Plans and Departure

"Awake, kid? How do you feel?"

At the low, hoarse greeting, Roy struggled to open his swollen eyes. His entire body ached as he looked around and discovered that he was lying in a tavern room.

It was close to noon. The light outside the window was painfully bright, and the tables, chairs, cabinets—everything around him—seemed coated in overlapping afterimages... making it impossible to see clearly.

He closed his eyes again and shook his dizzy head. After a long while, the overlapping phantoms faded, and the scene before him returned to normal.

"Letho, how long was I unconscious?" He frowned and raised a hand to block the light reflecting off the gleaming bald head beside his bed. "Could you sit somewhere else? You're dazzling me."

The Witcher shrugged helplessly, shifted onto a chair, and handed him a bowl of plain water.

"You were unconscious for a day and a night, shorter than I expected. That means you're in good physical condition." The Witcher spoke evenly, like a doctor giving a patient his assessment.

"I don't feel very good. It feels like I died once."

Roy greedily drained the entire bowl of water.

At last, there was a trace of coolness within his body. In contrast, he recalled the utterly wretched state he had been in after drinking the Pre-medication.

It was as though a fire had been lit inside his chest. Every blood vessel and every cell had burned, shrieking with scorching pain, while a thousand sharp weapons stabbed back and forth through his bones and flesh. Simply put, it had felt like someone was using a red-hot knife to carve away his flesh and scrape his bones.

"You should have warned me more severely back then..." There was a hint of dissatisfaction in Roy's voice, along with a faint shadow of fear in his heart. He never wanted to experience that feeling again in his life. It had been worse than death.

"It did differ from my judgment," the Witcher said, narrowing his eyes and forcing out an apologetic expression. "I thought you would quickly pass out under that kind of extreme pain. In reality, over the past century or so, most apprentices who took the Pre-medication failed to last five minutes. Ninety percent lost consciousness in under three minutes. Their suffering lasted only that long, but you—"

"What about me?"

"You lasted six minutes." Letho pulled out a dusty notebook, flipped through several pages, and said solemnly, "Throughout the process, you showed no symptoms such as incontinence, delirium, convulsions, or vomiting blood."

Roy suddenly felt a chill down his back and became immensely grateful that he had deliberately raised his Constitution attribute beforehand.

"Why didn't you tell me about those possible side effects in advance?"

"Aren't you fine now? You made it through." Letho patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. "Don't worry, kid. Only the first dose of Pre-medication causes pain this intense... Future doses will hurt half as much, then less and less... Once you fully adapt, it'll only make you frown."

"I thought I only had to take one dose?" Roy swallowed, a look of fear surfacing on his face. Even half the pain would still be agonizing. "How many more do I have to drink?"

"The treatment lasts three months in total, one dose per week. So you have eleven doses left."

"..."

Roy took a deep breath and rubbed his sweat-soaked, clammy face. Things had come this far. If he did not continue drinking it, wouldn't all that torment worse than death have been for nothing?

"Your Willpower and physical condition surpass those of ninety-nine percent of School of the Viper apprentices." Letho watched his expression from the side. Seeing that Roy did not object, he secretly breathed a sigh of relief and immediately changed the subject. "It may also be because you're older and your body is more fully developed. Other apprentices start taking Pre-medication before they turn ten. You're nearly fourteen, aren't you?"

"By your reasoning, being older is an advantage. Then why do Witchers still prefer to train younger apprentices?" Roy suppressed his doubts and asked.

"A child is a blank sheet of paper... full of limitless possibilities, waiting for a guide to paint their future upon it..." The Witcher was unusually patient. "A child's body has not yet fully developed, allowing it to undergo systematic reshaping under the effects of the Grass Potion. An adult body that has finished developing is already fixed in form. Reshaping it is far more difficult than reshaping a child's. Most cannot endure until the mutation is complete—their bodies collapse first, and they die."

Reshaping, collapse?

Roy was beginning to truly understand the meaning of the Trial of the Grasses, rather than seeing it as merely the simple phrase he had first read: "a seventy percent mortality rate."

If one failed to endure it, the body would collapse. But what if one endured it, then endured it again?

"Can mutation only be performed once?" Roy voiced a question that had long been on his mind. "If someone drinks the School of the Viper's Grass Potion and successfully endures it, can they continue drinking the Grass Potions of other schools? For example, the Wolf School or the Griffin School?"

Based on what he had known before, every school's Grass Potion formula differed, and the focus of their enhancements after mutation and reshaping differed as well. The School of the Cat wore light leather armor, moved with agility, and struck like ghosts; their mutations mainly enhanced Agility. The Wolf School was more balanced, strengthening every attribute to some extent. Griffin Signs were tremendously powerful, mainly favoring mental attributes. The Bear School wore heavy armor and wielded two-handed swords, capable of consuming more potions in a short period; their enhancements should logically favor Constitution...

If someone could survive the Trials of the Grasses of several schools, what kind of being would they become?

Theoretically, after surviving one Trial of the Grasses, the body's resistance to toxins would rise greatly. Would undergoing a second one become easier?

Of course, it was even more likely that different Grass Potions concealed fatal contradictions and conflicts with one another.

For now, this was merely one of Roy's ideas.

"You mean undergoing mutation and reshaping multiple times?" A dangerous gleam flashed in Letho's eyes as he warned him sternly, "Kid, why would you entertain such arrogant and ignorant thoughts?!"

"I've lived for decades, and I've never heard of anyone daring to take two different Grass Potions, even one after the other. No such fool exists in this world! If there ever was one, he must have become a pile of bones already!"

"Enough, kid. You haven't even made it through the Pre-medication stage, so don't indulge in pointless fantasies." Letho's voice softened again as he braced the notebook on his knee. "Now tell me, do you feel any changes in your body? The first dose of Pre-medication usually brings some small benefit."

"Changes?" Roy temporarily set aside his fantasies and turned his attention to the panel.

Health: 30/55 (Poisoned)

It had fallen by a full twenty points, showing just how potent the Pre-medication's toxicity was. Compared to it, the toxicity of the Berberis Fruit and Dandelion Mallow he had consumed before was practically negligible.

As his gaze moved downward, his eyelids twitched.

Of all his attributes, Willpower had changed: 5.8 → 6.

It had risen by 0.2. In Roy's view, it was only natural that his Willpower would be tempered after enduring torment worse than death. But he suspected that effect would only work the first time.

Other than that, there were no further changes in the panel.

"Could it be because my Constitution already surpasses that of ordinary people, so it didn't increase?"

He had originally thought he would gain some ability related to toxins. Had he not taken enough Pre-medication?

"There was indeed a slight change..." Roy said. "I can feel it... My thoughts and Willpower have become firmer, more solid."

"All right." A flicker of disappointment passed through Letho's eyes. "That matches the results of my examination just now. Perhaps it's because you're a little older... But it's fine. We won't know the final result until the first stage is complete."

After Roy rested for two days and his body fully recovered, he prepared to leave Edersberg with the Witcher.

He did not intend to bid farewell at House of Cadell either. It would only add to the sadness.

The dwarf wine merchant suddenly came looking for them.

With hearty laughter, he strode toward them in high spirits. It was clear he had been living quite comfortably these past few days. His chest-length beard had been groomed neat and tidy, glossy black, and his face was radiant, bearing no trace of the insomnia that had once plagued him.

He behaved as if he were meeting long-lost family, tightly clasping Roy's and Letho's hands with his large, black-haired hands.

"This time, I truly have you both to thank for your wholehearted assistance. At last, the great weight on my heart has been lifted. If you ever return to Edessberg, be sure to visit my home and allow me to fulfill my duties as host."

Roy waved it off indifferently. In truth, the benefits he had gained from this "transport job" had already been considerable.

The dwarf continued.

"You and Master Letho are heading west and will soon cross Mahakam. But recently, strange creatures have been causing trouble in the mountains, and there are checkpoints set up by the elders everywhere. If you go empty-handed, you may encounter many obstacles along the way."

"But how could I let my friends and brothers suffer embarrassment? I offer you a handwritten letter of introduction. With it, the two of you may travel unimpeded through Mahakam. Seville Hogg still has some influence there."

As he spoke, he winked at Roy. Roy accepted the envelope, though he felt slightly uneasy.

"Seville, you don't have some other motive, do you?"

He felt that the dwarf's wink carried a special meaning.

"What are you saying? I am no ungrateful man. I would never use schemes and tricks to treat my friends and brothers."

After the dwarf repeatedly assured him, Roy relaxed somewhat and glanced over the letter's contents:

Brothers of Mahakam,

The two gentlemen before you are highly skilled Witcher masters from the School of the Viper. They helped me resolve a great concern in Edessberg and have become my good friends. I ask all brothers to show them the respect and goodwill they deserve, and let them pass through Mahakam on their journey.

With respect,

Your brother, Little Squirrel of Mahakam, Seville Hogg

November, 1260

It truly was only an ordinary letter of recommendation, so Roy stopped dwelling on it.

After some final hesitation, he asked the dwarf wine merchant for one favor—watch over the children and teachers of House of Cadell.

The other man readily agreed.

Not long afterward, the two finished packing their luggage and sat quietly with their eyes closed for a while to rest.

They did not have much luggage—only a few changes of clothes prepared for Roy, potions, and alchemical tools. Two packs were enough.

In the past, when Letho had traveled the world alone, he had never needed extra clothing.

Out in the wilderness, he waded through water and mud. Going ten days or half a month without washing was commonplace. Once half a month had passed, he would head to a tavern, wash himself clean, find a woman for a night of pleasure. He was little different from sailors, coachmen, guards, and other lower-class men who made their living through hard labor.

But Roy was far more particular than ordinary people of this era. He bathed often, preparing for the future. It made the less fastidious Letho somewhat uncomfortable.

Chatting casually, the two left Edessberg through the city gates and followed the western path toward Mahakam, shrouded in clouds and mist.

Thanks to Tianya Jihui Shou for the generous support! Thank you all for your support!