My Alchemy Can Do Anything

It was summer, just like now—one year ago, in Kaer Morhen's library—

"Nekkers were creatures that came with the Conjunction of the Spheres. They were small, standing about three to four feet tall, though a few rare variants could reach five feet. They had pale skin, long, wide jaws, sharp teeth and claws, and a simple intelligence. They usually attacked in groups."

Vesemir clapped twice. "A nearly perfect description, child."

The boy smiled but didn't stop there. "Their meat is tough and unfit to eat. Their blood, claws, and eyes can all be used as alchemical ingredients, and an albino Nekker's heart is a catalyst for special potions.

"A silver sword, along with Ogroid Oil—made by drying and crushing Moon Rose petals, then boiling them with bear fat—can greatly improve your killing power."

"Impressive!" The witcher master nodded in satisfaction.

In a real fight, an individual Nekker was truly nothing to worry about. Their lunges and bites were swift and powerful, but their size put them in the category of large beasts at best. They were usually dangerous only when they outnumbered their prey and attacked from both sides, striking at vulnerable areas.

Fortunately, the leather armor reinforced with iron plates that the group had bought in Vergen wasn't just for show. Quality varied in all things, and even leather came in different grades. Back then, the plain and unassuming Victor had naturally chosen the best hard leather available.

Their armor was first-rate, their weapons sharp, their sword oil top-quality, and their potions fully stocked. It began when the first Nekker came charging from afar and leaped at them; a silver sword split it from head to spine in a single stroke.

In an instant, the air filled with the Nekkers' hoarse cries. The two were surrounded by the little monsters, and the irreconcilable conflict between hunter and hunted erupted.

With the potions boosting him, Victor's enhanced reflexes and strength made short work of the encircling monsters. Even the one or two Nekkers that tried to burrow underground and ambush him were spotted in advance and pinned beneath the soil. Before his silver sword, they stood no chance.

Angoulême was already strong, and the potions made her stronger still. Her Mahakam steel sword didn't have the silver sword's bonus damage against monsters, but Ogroid Oil was more than enough to support her as she put on a spectacular display, cutting through their ranks again and again.

Under the moonlight, the girl's dazzling performance was all footwork and relentless strikes: a downward slash, an upward cut, then another downward slash. Three swings of her sword cleaved three Nekkers into six pieces.

Honestly, that scene of blood raining through the sky was like a poem, a painting—an absolute delight to behold.

Victor baited another Nekker into lunging at him with a feint, twisted aside to dodge, then stepped forward and slashed upward across its chest. The five or six Nekkers left let out furious howls, leaving behind twice as many dead companions as they scattered and fled.

They had come in a rush and left just as quickly. In the blink of an eye, calm returned, leaving only the mess on the ground to prove that a struggle for survival had taken place.

In the cool night breeze, Victor and Angoulême exchanged a glance and let out long breaths. Then they burst into laughter at the same time, releasing the tension that had built up while facing an unknown number of threats.

Their laughter gradually faded. Angoulême returned to the campfire and sank down beside it, staring blankly into the flames, lost in thought.

Victor walked over to Angoulême. "Are you hurt?"

She shook her head.

Victor took out a tin of ointment, rubbed some beneath his nose, then handed it to the girl. "Apply it under your nose. You won't smell anything for a while."

Then, on his own, he drew his dagger and swayed over toward the treasure scattered across the ground—very smelly treasure.

"Seriously, Captain, I'm really curious how bad you smell right now." The girl asked as they walked in the first light of dawn.

The boy finished collecting the treasure, somewhat disappointed that there was no albino Nekker heart. With dawn approaching, the group tidied up quickly and continued on their way. Catherine refused to perch on the girl's shoulder again, because Victor was walking beside Angoulême.

"If you really want to know, I can give you the antidote to the nasal ointment. Personally, I'd rather not find out," Victor said expressionlessly.

Angoulême thought for a moment, then spat by the roadside. "Never mind... Catherine said it's terrifying."

A shaft of golden sunlight rose in the distance beyond the horizon.

Without Catherine there to talk to, Angoulême fell back into her habit of chattering at Victor. "Captain, what were those three potions we just drank? I felt full of strength after drinking them, like I could do anything!"

"They're enhancement potions witchers drink. Ordinary people would be poisoned by them, but we drank an improved, nontoxic version. The enhancement is much weaker."

Angoulême protested, "That was the weak version!? If I could have a set like that every time I fought, I'd think I was invincible!"

"Oh... Are you confident you could beat Iophis?" the boy coolly retorted.

Her bold claim caught in her throat. The girl's voice shrank. "...Probably... still not."

"At your level, you think you can have a set every time? Keep dreaming. Do you know how many crowns the ingredients for one set of potions are worth? Or how much the finished potions are worth?

"And do you know that sword oil has to be boiled with bear fat? I spent all morning leaping around to take down that bear, and how much fat do you think I got out of it?

"Yesterday's fight was an unavoidable extravagance when we didn't know what we were dealing with. Ah... the more I talk, the more my heart bleeds... And I haven't even counted the wear on our steel and silver swords. Let me tell you..." Victor mercilessly launched into Grandet's endless lecture, aimed at Angoulême's naïve belief that things came cheap when you weren't the one paying for them.

The real world wasn't a game. There weren't herbs lying everywhere for the taking, and some herbs couldn't be bought even if you had the money. On top of that, carrying and storing potions was a major problem. Given the preservation methods of this era, they could easily spoil after a while. It was only thanks to the herbal pouch's preserving properties that Victor could diligently stockpile all kinds of potions.

Another witcher would likely have had to rely on swordsmanship alone in a sudden situation like the one the night before. If injured, they would have had no choice but to save themselves with potent drugs of unreliable quality.

Grandet's lecture left Angoulême speechless. She could only hang her head and hurry along, and it continued until past noon, when Ellander came into view in the distance.

As they paid the fee to enter the city, Victor noticed the gatekeeper's undisguised disgust at the stench. Smiling, he raised the long string of Nekker ears in his hand to greet him. The man stumbled backward in fright and nearly fell over.

With her hood up, Angoulême kept a little distance from Victor as they entered the city. Not long after, she stopped in front of the "Lame Anton" inn, tapped her sword hilt three times, and went inside.

At the sound of the taps, Victor glanced back at the sign and the girl, then continued on his way.

This was his first time traveling under a witcher's name. In theory, he could claim a reward for the string of Nekker ears at the town hall. Out of caution, and to avoid any unnecessary trouble, he had asked Angoulême to keep her distance from him as they entered the city and find a place to stay on her own.

He also had to visit the Temple of Melitele, where, if all went well, he would stay the night. Angoulême hated all temples. It didn't matter that this one worshipped Melitele, the ancient goddess of love and peace.