Ailin is dead again?

Holy crap!

The first one was gold!

Ailin couldn't help but curse in surprise, his heart pounding like a drum, blood rushing to his head.

One golden light, followed by sixteen white lights, but the last one also flashed purple.

Double good fortune?

Or quadruple good fortune?

What luck did he have today?

Ailin focused, not daring to blink.

A golden light flashed.

Suddenly, a blast of cold air blew towards him.

Huh?

There was even tactile feedback?

As expected of the Drowners King!

Ailin praised inwardly, his focus sharpening.

"Buzz!"

A familiar, crisp sound came from in front of him.

Like a lake's surface cracking in the dead of winter.

Huh?

"Swish!"

An ice spike, as thick as a thigh, materialized from thin air and shot directly towards his chest.

What?!!

The blue-glowing projectile, like the most brilliant diamond, instantly grew larger before his eyes.

The Witcher apprentice didn't have time to say a word before he was pierced through the chest.

"Ah!"

Ailin jumped out of bed in shock, snapping the wooden bed frame with his foot.

"Ailin! What's wrong?"

Hughes, sleeping beside him, also jumped up, startled by the sudden commotion.

Fred and Bont also turned their gazes towards him.

Ailin, still shaken, felt his chest.

There was no hole, no blood, only his sweat-soaked linen undergarments.

"It's... it's nothing. Sorry, I just had a nightmare."

Hughes nodded in comfort, then shivered and went back to sleep.

The other two apprentices also looked away.

Ailin calmed himself for a few seconds, moved his bedding to another bed, and lay down.

Every time he drew a gold-quality item, it would maliciously scare him at the end.

But he knew those were fake.

However, the one just now was too real, exactly like what Ailin had seen with his own eyes that afternoon, and it didn't give him any time to react.

He had fallen for it instantly.

After taking a few deep breaths, Ailin reopened the Witcher's Handbook.

He wanted to see what treasure had scared him so badly.

[Ding! Acquired: Experience Orbs * 16, Skill: Ice Lance, Drowner Whistle Crafting Blueprint]

Ice Lance?

Was it what he thought it was?

The slight displeasure of being tricked vanished from Ailin's heart.

He tentatively clicked on the skill with his mind.

[Name: Ice Lance]

[Type: Water Element Sorcery]

[Learning Requirement: Water Affinity 2, Mysticism 20]

[Function: Summons an ice lance to shoot at a target]

[Note: Witcher, this thing is much more useful than Signs!]

It really was that Ice Spike!

No, it was the Drowners King's skill.

Though the name Ice Lance was crude, it couldn't hide its exaggerated power.

As Ailin, who had almost died from this skill, understood this deeply.

After using the essence from the two Drowners King hearts, his learning needs could also be met.

Witchers had swordplay for close combat, Signs for mid-range, but for long-range, they had no special means.

Ailin had already been troubled by this and was thinking of buying a crossbow after the Trial of the Mountains.

The appearance of this skill perfectly filled his last gap.

His gaze moved down to the Drowner Whistle blueprint.

However, despite its high quality, this item could only be put away.

Ailin already had nearly ten Drowner Whistles in his inventory.

Unlike Potions or Sword Oil, one Drowner Whistle would probably last over ten years.

After organizing today's haul, his HP only increased from 73% to 76%.

Clearly, he couldn't immediately drink the remaining Drowners King heart essence.

Ailin wasn't in a hurry, actually.

After all, he had already gathered most of the conditions for passing the Trial of the Mountains.

And so.

Satisfied, he glanced once more at the 5762 Lesser Experience Orbs and 61 Experience Orbs before the Witcher apprentice happily drifted off to sleep.

The next morning.

Vesemir uncharacteristically interrupted the teaching schedule.

He moved the teaching of the Heliotrope Sign, a Sign that defended against magical attacks, which was supposed to be taught a day later, to today.

However, for Ailin, there was no difference.

He learned it instantly.

Then, under the envious and admiring gazes of the apprentices, he headed towards the Alchemy Room.

Along the way, Ailin was thinking about how to use the art of language to refuse the alchemy lessons after today, while minimizing any damage to Lady Mary's self-esteem.

As he reached the door of the Alchemy Room, Ailin was about to knock.

"Creak~"

The door opened by itself.

Ailin froze for a moment before retracting his half-extended hand.

Had the Sorceress returned?

Didn't she say she might not be back before the Trial of the Mountains?

With a hint of doubt, Ailin walked in.

A faint scent of orange mixed with cardamom.

The familiar smell that wafted towards him made the Witcher apprentice feel a bit nostalgic.

It was only then that he suddenly realized that the smell wasn't from the Alchemy Room, but from the Sorceress herself.

Mary was slumped over the table, seemingly asleep.

The Sorceress remained seated in her usual spot, dressed simply, sitting upright.

Although she had a poker face, after so many days of interaction, Ailin could clearly sense that the Sorceress's mood at the moment did not seem very good.

At this moment.

Ailin suddenly remembered that Vesemir hadn't returned the Drowner Whistle to him yesterday.

And that night, the Witcher Master seemed to be looking for the Chieftain to deal with the Drowners King materials.

And Leto had said that the Chieftain and...

No!

He couldn't think of Leto!

Even though he was definitely enjoying himself in that small town right now.

It's just that...

"It can't be that coincidental, can it?" Ailin thought, then quickly cleared his mind.

"Good morning, Lady Vesemir."

"Good morning, have a seat."

"Alright, Lady Vesemir."

There seemed to be no abnormalities… Ailin sat obediently.

After sitting down, Ailin didn't ask Vesemir why she returned so early, avoiding questions that would cause trouble for himself.

He acted as if Vesemir hadn't left yet and listened to the lesson obediently.

"Snap!"

With a snap of her fingers.

A dark, heavy book that exuded an ominous feeling flew over.

"Thud!"

The book landed on the alchemy table, and Ailin felt the tabletop sink considerably.

He glanced at the cover curiously.

"The God of Ill Omen and Great Old One Sacrifices"

?

Why was she teaching this today?

Was Alchemy also related to Great Old Ones?

After looking at the cover, Ailin tilted his head and glanced questioningly at the sorceress.

Uncharacteristically, whenever Vesemir saw Ailin's confused gaze, she would usually stop and ask gently.

But this time, the sorceress ignored his expression and began speaking with a blank face.

Something was wrong; Ailin had a premonition that a storm was about to break.

It was quiet yet oppressive.

"The God of Ill Omen, a deity that advocates misfortune and ill omens…"

The Witcher apprentice grew more confused the more he listened.

"What is this God of Ill Omen, and what does it have to do with Alchemy?"

Ailin wanted to ask the sorceress.

But seeing Vesemir's icy expression, he wisely chose to remain silent.

"Skulls, finger bones, and toe bones are common offerings at the altar of the God of Ill Omen…"

Vesemir paused, looked at the Witcher apprentice, and asked:

"...Believers offer sacrifices, and the deity bestows ritual implements..."

"Witcher apprentice Ailin, do you know what ritual implements the God of Ill Omen bestows?"

Witcher apprentice Ailin's attention was completely off Vesemir's lesson at this moment.

He heard a familiar mechanical voice.

[Ding! Do you wish to spend 7001 Lesser Experience Orbs to unlock an Alchemy skill?]

Ailin: Huh?

It's already costing 100 Lesser Experience Orbs?

New author, new book, please follow, comment, collect, and vote for monthly tickets!

Thanks to readers "I'm a hooligan," "Uproot Evil," "Arcane Missile Karrick," "151219092731994," and "Ion-kun" for their monthly votes.

Thanks to readers "20210628145444561," "Vengeful Gaze," "Forefathers Plant Trees," and "zerolce" for their rewards.