Maybe I Can Help

At Kraun's house, in the backyard.

It wasn't very big, only about fifteen square meters.

He had already tidied up, piling all the miscellaneous items together.

"Big brother, you'd better be careful. I won't go easy on you. If I'm going to earn money, I have to show how dedicated I am to my work."

Alan said with a grin, swinging a practice sword.

"Then you'd better put some effort into it!"

As soon as Kraun finished speaking, he lunged at the boy.

Alan retreated half a step to the side and raised his sword to block.

The moment their swords clashed, both were secretly surprised.

Kraun was surprised that he'd used eight-tenths of his strength, yet the boy had blocked him with ease.

Alan was surprised that the shock of his opponent's sword had left his own thumb and forefinger webbing aching.

Though he was only thirteen, his physical abilities were already close to the limits of an ordinary person. He only needed to get the necessary potions before he could undergo the Trial of the Grasses.

Big brother's physical abilities are definitely no worse than mine.

The boy's expression grew serious, and his focus sharpened until it matched the concentration he brought to training with his teacher.

Kraun let loose and attacked with all his might, his Swordsmanship fierce and nimble.

Alan's defense was flawless. Every now and then, he counterattacked, forcing Kraun into a flurry.

An hour passed, and the two stopped to rest.

Kraun summoned the Golden Wall to check his training results.

[Basic Swordsmanship: 724/5000; Tier 3]

[Cross Sword: 816/2000; Tier 2]

Seeing that both skills had made considerable progress, he felt a surge of delight. "That money was well spent!"

Basic Swordsmanship had gained more than a hundred proficiency points, and Cross Sword had gained sixty.

"Alan, how are you so strong?" Kraun ladled two bowls of herbal drink from the pot and handed one to the boy.

It was herbal iced tea he'd prepared, meant to clear heat and toxins, quench thirst, and produce saliva.

The boy took the large bowl, sniffed it, then licked it before tipping his head back and drinking it down.

Kraun saw his reaction and burst out laughing.

"You're so cautious. Did you think I'd poisoned it?"

"It's just a habit. Witchers aren't affected by most poisons," the boy said with complete conviction.

His expression quickly fell. "I haven't undergone my first Trial of the Grasses yet, so I can't be considered a true Witcher."

"What exactly is the Trial of the Grasses? Is it some kind of mysterious ritual?"

Kraun guessed that the trial was like the ritual Knights underwent to elevate their life force.

"It's delicious. It's a little bitter at first, but there's a faint sweetness afterward." Alan set down his bowl and explained, "The Trial of the Grasses involves drinking a potion called 'Grasses.' It changes an apprentice's physiology, giving us greater strength and speed, as well as the ability to cast simple spells."

"Apprentices have to undergo this trial to become true Witchers."

"It sounds similar to other professions advancing to Transcendence."

"There are some differences." Alan's eyes dimmed slightly. "Of all the professions, Witchers and Spirit Controllers have the most dangerous advancement trials. You should understand, big brother. Only three or four out of every ten Witcher apprentices succeed, and the success rate for Spirit Controllers is even lower."

Kraun nodded slightly. He didn't know how orthodox Spirit Controllers achieved their power. He only knew that even with a skill specifically suited to the task, his own chances had been one in ten.

If that night, when he'd fought an Evil Spirit for the right to survive, happened all over again, he didn't know whether he'd come out on top.

"You haven't chosen to undergo the trial because you're not sufficiently prepared?"

He was growing more and more curious about Geralt's true strength. Alan hadn't even undergone the trial, yet he was already so capable that he could steadily overpower Kraun, a man with a cheat. He couldn't imagine how badly a Witcher would beat him in a fight.

Sometimes, even a tiny increase in strength or speed could make all the difference.

For instance, a wooden board needed to withstand a certain amount of force before it could be broken. If you fell just short of that force, you simply couldn't break it.

"I reached the standard for undergoing the trial a year ago. I've improved since then, and I've nearly pushed my body to its limits. I haven't undergone the trial because we don't have a suitable Alchemist to make the Grasses Potion for us."

"For certain reasons, my teacher and I left the Witchers' holy ground, Kaer Morhen. We need to find a suitable Alchemist to make the potion. The Alchemist my teacher knows doesn't have much confidence in making such a niche potion, one used exclusively by Witchers. We only have two sets of ingredients, so she doesn't dare risk it."

"Maybe I can help someday. I can already reliably brew Blood-Boiling Potion, a potion from the Transcendence domain."

Alan gave him a polite smile and said nothing.

He doesn't believe me. Kraun didn't explain. No one could imagine how much fun it was to have a cheat.

He finished his own bowl of iced tea and stood up. "We've still got an hour of training. I'd better make the most of it."

If he'd paid for it, he might as well get his money's worth!

The two continued their practice.

As soon as they crossed swords again, Alan could tell that something had changed. His opponent's swordsmanship had become smoother and more fluid.

He'd felt something similar toward the end of their first spar, but at the time, he'd thought it was just his imagination.

The boy focused even harder and brought out eight or nine-tenths of his strength.

"Creak." The room door swung open.

Geralt glanced over, then continued what he was doing.

The Witcher wore nothing but a pair of shorts, revealing perfectly sculpted muscles brimming with explosive power.

He was rubbing a red ointment over his body.

"How did it go? Easy money this time, right? Help me rub some on my back." He handed the jar to his student.

"It wasn't easy." Alan took the jar and expertly applied the ointment to his teacher's back.

"At the beginning of the spar, I used seven-tenths of my strength and felt completely at ease. By the end, I was using eight or nine-tenths, but I still couldn't completely overpower him. It felt like he was improving every moment. Teacher, are people like that real?"

Geralt straightened his back and thought for a moment before replying, "Perhaps his Spirit Familiar gave him some additional abilities. If Kraun had always possessed that kind of talent, the Church's priests would have noticed him long ago."

"He doesn't keep his affairs secret. I heard from the innkeeper that he used to be an ordinary herbalist, but now he's doing business with Gisai merchants. The Gisai may be stingy and mean, but they're good judges of character."

Alan thought for a moment, then smiled. "The way you put it, I don't think he was joking when he offered to help me."

"What did he say?"

"He said he could help brew the Grasses Potion." The boy sealed the jar and patted his teacher on the shoulder. "All done. If his Herbalism improves as quickly as his Swordsmanship, then perhaps he really can."

The Witcher gazed out the window, his eyes distant, and said softly, "Winter is almost here. We'll stay in town until the snow melts, so we can afford to wait and see."