The Wolf School's Secret Ultimate Killing Technique

Last autumn, Kaer Morhen library, during afternoon tea conversation.

"Ah... so... Vesemir, are you saying witchers don't normally carry bombs on them?"

"Of course not! Child, why would you have such a strange idea? Saltpeter is scarce and expensive. If a bomb is mishandled after being made, it can explode. Carrying one for long periods also makes it prone to dampness. Naturally, such things are only prepared when needed."

"Oh... I thought a witcher's usual fighting style was to hold a sword in one hand, control Signs with the other, and throw bombs..."

Blinking, the old witcher's face revealed a nostalgic expression. Then he shook his head and laughed heartily. "Ah... using the Igni Sign to light the fuse amid fierce combat, then throwing a 'Honeycomb' to help fight many enemies alone—this style of combat is indeed very powerful, but it isn't suitable as the norm."

"But there was once a monster-slaying master who excelled at this kind of layered attack. He even left us the masterpiece Art Is Explosion. It was after reading that book's introduction that I assumed all witchers fought this way."

"Hehe, child, you have a good memory! But when you mentioned the title, you shouldn't have left out the subtitle. I added it specially—The Monster-Slaying Master's Final Fate."

"..." Remembering that subtitle, Victor was immediately left speechless.

"We witchers are 'professional' specialists, so taking 'cost' and 'safety' into account, after that master, miraculous things like 'explosive swords' basically became a lost art. In fact, most of the time, the swords in our hands are already enough."

"Secret Art—Explosion!"

Victor thrust his left hand into his herb pouch, pulled out a "Honeycomb," and hurled it directly at Knight Tylles. At the same time, he spun and rolled backward.

"BOOM—!!"

The thunderous blast behind him startled birds into flight and shook fallen leaves from the forest canopy...

Ordinarily, crude, impure black powder had limited power. Without an iron casing to seal it, the bomb would be even weaker. But for Victor, who had mastered Incredible Alchemy, none of that was a problem.

His method was simple. He mixed black powder according to the ideal proportions in his memory, tossed it into a cauldron and stirred to purify it, then slept for three hours to recover his focus. After that, he added iron ingots and continued stirring, producing sealed iron-cased bombs. The two-stage process took seven hours in total and cost around forty Crowns, yielding two fist-sized "Honeycombs."

As for not being able to use the Igni Sign and thus being unable to light the fuse at any moment in fierce combat, that was no problem either. Victor simply lit the Honeycomb's fuse before storing it in his herb pouch, thereby recreating the Wolf School's secret art, lost for many years.

While rolling backward, he had seen clearly that Tylles had no idea what the object was. The Honeycomb exploded at point-blank range in front of the knight. Victor refused to believe any normal human could still move after taking that hit.

Rolling onto his back, he propped himself up with one hand and sat up. Suppressing the agony of the fracture in his right foot and his internal injuries, Victor slowly rose, unable to hide the shock in his eyes. As the black powder smoke cleared, it revealed the Order of the White Rose knight, his armor scorched and battered, yet still standing where he was.

Shock did not hinder action. The youth forced himself to stand and calmly reached into his herb pouch. If one wasn't enough, then he would use another!

But perhaps Tylles had also been intimidated by the secret art's power. He did not press forward again, merely standing where he was and facing the witcher apprentice from afar.

A moment later, just as Victor was wondering whether he should limp forward and throw another bomb, there came a "Clang!"—the sound of the knight's knees striking the ground. Then, like a mountain collapsing and a jade pillar falling, Tylles hit the ground with a thud and did not move again.

Victor did not know whether to laugh or cry. So it was "standing dead"... He snarked irritably, With your level of skill, you think you deserve that? Even in death, you still have to scare people?

Limping forward, he kicked the knight's sword far away. Then he drove the tip of his Mahakam sword through a gap in the armor, pinning Tylles's elbow to the ground. The knight still did not react at all.

Having ruled out the possibility of being ambushed by a feigned death, Victor finally turned Tylles over and lifted his visor... only for the witcher apprentice to be shocked by the knight once more. The bastard was actually still alive. He was merely bleeding from all seven orifices from the blast and deeply unconscious...

The strange whisper of the "sound of slaughter" wound around his ears again. Pulling out his Mahakam sword, Victor hesitated between stabbing and not stabbing. As the whisper continued its chant, he had a powerful premonition that if he obeyed that voice and killed someone, something terrifying would happen.

In his hesitation, an eagle's cry swept through the sky, followed by the rustling of bushes.

"Captain! What happened?"

Hearing the familiar, reassuring cry of the wild girl, Victor relaxed. He could no longer remain standing and swayed as if about to fall. Angoulême hurriedly rushed over from behind and caught him in time.

Seeing Victor's face covered in blood, then seeing Tylles lying on the ground, the girl immediately understood everything. Furious, she drew her longsword and was about to strike. But she remembered Victor saying that killing this man would cause trouble, so she still waited for the youth's instruction.

"Do it! There's no turning back now." The breath that had been holding Victor up finally gave out. His voice was as weak as a thread, but his meaning was perfectly clear.

When the sharp blade pierced his brain, Tylles convulsed violently for quite a while in unconscious spasms, and then he lost all interest in this world forever.

Gently laying Victor flat on the ground, Angoulême saw him slowly close his eyes. Tears immediately poured from her eyes as she cried out helplessly, "Captain... no... don't die... please, don't leave me alone."

"You idiot, don't shake me!" Victor had merely wanted to rest for a while, but Angoulême's shaking forced him to open his eyes and scold her softly. Otherwise, she would only worsen his internal injuries.

"Don't worry. I'm badly hurt, but I'm still very, very far from dying... I'll drink some potion, sleep, and be fine in a few days."

"Potion, right, there's potion! Captain, do you still have that life-saving potion I drank before? That stuff was practically divine medicine. One drink closed up external wounds and made my body warm again."

"Pah, in your dreams. How could there be anything that good? My grandmother only gave me three life-saving doses. Two went to Ciri, and I drank the last one myself when I had lockjaw." As he spoke, the youth pulled out two vials from his herb pouch, bit off their stoppers, and drank them. "Mine are still far inferior, but they're enough for simple healing."

After speaking, he watched Angoulême stay by his side, waiting earnestly for instructions. For some reason, the gloom from being ambushed and beaten faded considerably. So he patted the grass beside him. "Come, come... lie down too. Lie here. The sunshine is very pleasant right now."

"Hey... stop fooling around, Captain! What do we do next?" Angoulême was somewhat helpless. Victor's flaw was that he often liked making jokes only he understood, or doing inappropriate things whenever the mood struck him.

Knight Tylles's corpse was still lying over there. She had no idea whether anyone passing by had heard that deafening explosion just now. Yet the captain was asking her to lie down and sunbathe with him. If he had not been badly wounded, she would have wanted to grab him by the collar and remind him that this was a crime scene.

Seeing the girl's tense expression, Victor sighed for her. He regretted that, even if only for a few minutes, the wild girl would not have the fortune to enjoy the sunshine by Bluewater Lake.

"Relax, it's fine! Don't be so nervous. Put down that bundle of alchemy materials first. You came on horseback, right? Did you leave anything important at the inn?"

Already used to Victor's seamless shifts between childishness and composure, Angoulême answered decisively, "Mm... no. Just as you instructed in your letter, I changed lodgings every few days. I happened to check out today."

As she spoke, believing she had grasped her leader's intention, Angoulême moved to help Victor up. "Captain, do you mean we should escape together?"

Then the youth slapped away the hand she had reached toward him.