Vesemir Returns! Do You Know You're... Pregnant?

After burying it, the Grand Master said with certainty, "The feedback increased, didn't it?"

This was a statement, not a question.

Ailin felt a warm current flow toward the Mutated Organ beside his heart and glanced at the Witcher's Handbook that appeared in his vision.

[Name: Ailin]

...

[Attributes: Strength 99, Agility 99, Constitution 99, Perception 99, Mystery 158 (+1)]

"It really did increase." The witcher nodded.

The old Druid with the grizzled beard immediately burst into smug laughter and proudly explained every detail behind "burying it two finger-widths deep." Once he finished, he fixed the witcher with a direct stare from eyes that seemed to see through people.

But instead of instinctively trying to avoid his gaze as he had when they had first met, the witcher froze for a moment, gave two awkward chuckles, and praised him stiffly.

"Grand Master, you... you're truly amazing. I've learned a great deal."

The Grand Master did not mind the awkwardness in the witcher's words. His lips immediately curled upward in satisfaction, like a child whose vanity had been indulged.

This was utterly unlike the witcher's initial impression of him: a venerable, learned, solemn man of few words.

Well...

Other than the learned part...

"I'll teach you another little trick..."

The old Druid secretly raised a hand over his mouth, seemingly unwilling to let anyone else hear. Yet there were only the two of them in this woodland. Simmons and Orga had accepted a task arranged by the Circle of Druids two days ago and left.

Naturally, Simmons and Orga had been reluctant to part with him, but they were different from Ailin.

Ailin was merely a guest who could leave at any time, while Simmons and Orga were Druids of the Druid Circle of Myna.

It was their duty.