A New Life Begins with Reading

An unfamiliar ceiling...

Where was I?

I was lying fully dressed on a rather hard bed, the bedding carrying a faint smell of mildew.

After lying awake for several minutes, Victor, being a realist, did not question it much and simply accepted the fact that he had transmigrated into another world again. After all, transmigration was like cross-dressing: there was only zero times and countless times.

Of course, the starting point in this new world was far worse. Not only had he lost all the relationships he had painstakingly built, but the bloodshed and brutality of the witcher world far surpassed those of his former alchemy world.

Fortunately, as he slowly recalled things, he believed he could remember a great deal about the witcher world. Those things might not let him battle heaven and earth, but they would certainly help him stay away from danger.

This was Kaer Morhen. As he descended the stone stairs of the ancient castle, he had already determined that he was in Kaer Morhen, the inheritance ground of the School of the Wolf witchers.

As expected, beside the fireplace in the castle hall, Victor saw the spiritual mentor of all School of the Wolf witchers—Vesemir, whom Ciri called Uncle but truly regarded as a grandfather. He had gray eyes, catlike pupils, and a head of snowy white hair.

As for specific events, the game's content probably could not be applied directly to reality. Even the slightest difference in the process could lead to a vastly different outcome. Still, the characters' basic settings should not differ too greatly. That was the conclusion he had reached after spending time with Ciri.

Their gazes met. He nodded in greeting and gave this old witcher—a man who had devoted centuries to slaying monsters and never wavered from his principles—a friendly smile.

After finishing the old witcher's simple yet unappetizing homemade lunch, Victor and Vesemir sat on the steps in the inner courtyard and chatted.

After hearing Vesemir relay Ciri's words entrusting Victor to his care, Victor felt both annoyed and amused. So he really had been treated like a child. Yet he was also somewhat happy that she had valued him so deeply.

Thus, when it was his turn to speak, he did not mention much of Ciri's private life. He simply described why he had been brought into the witcher world. He felt that he knew too much—many details that Ciri, in her normal state, would absolutely never have revealed.

Ciri had probably told him those things last night because she believed they would never meet again, and because she felt guilty about hiding things from him for half a year. If he poured all of it out to the old man, it would only make their future interactions more awkward.

"...That was what happened. She lived with me for half a year. Last night, she had a nightmare and said she had to leave. Then, while I was seeing her off, we were attacked by the Aen Elle. Ciri could only pull me onto the horse and flee."

"So, you are someone from another world." Having heard the full story, Vesemir's expression turned somewhat grave. "Child, from now on, you must not tell anyone else about your origins.

"Our world has a natural phenomenon called the 'Conjunction of the Spheres.' When it occurs, many places overlap with other worlds, causing environmental changes and the migration of living creatures.

"And the otherworldly creatures brought by the Conjunction fifteen hundred years ago included ghouls, blood thorn corpse demons, higher vampires, basilisks, and other monsters.

"So you can imagine how people feel about creatures from other worlds."

Victor nodded. "I understand, Uncle Vesemir!"

Victor had no psychological resistance to calling him Uncle. The man was a living fossil several hundred years old; even calling him Grandpa would have been perfectly justified.

"Then I'll have to trouble you to look after me for a while. I'll do my best to adapt to this place. Are there any taboos or restricted areas in Kaer Morhen?"

Though he worried about Ciri's safety, Victor knew he could do nothing. By now, the battle's outcome had most likely already been decided. All he could do was remain at Kaer Morhen and wait for news.

Vesemir said, "You took care of our child, so you are family. I promise you, there are no taboos or restricted areas for you in Kaer Morhen. You are as free here as you would be in your own home."

Victor thought for a moment. "Then... please tell me about witchers. Ciri only had time to tell me a little. I hope to begin understanding this world by first understanding you."

Vesemir did not refuse, but neither did he explain immediately. Instead, he led Victor to the library on the third floor, had him sit at a desk, then selected several books from the shelves before returning to his side.

He first handed Victor Northern Royal Bloodlines and The Slaughter of Cintra. "These two books describe Ciri's background.

"The Witcher: Not As Evil As You Think presents a neutral view of witchers and introduces them.

"Monsters: A Portrait of Witchers, Volume One presents the view of those who hate witchers. It is also the mainstream view in the outside world.

"After you finish those two, you may continue with The Trial of the Grasses and Other Secret Witcher Training—My Personal Account, which describes how we become witchers.

"Finally, Witcher Signs and Art Is Explosion—Have You Exploded Today? introduce two auxiliary methods of attack commonly used by witchers."

After hearing the choices and introductions, Victor sensed Vesemir's thoughtfulness. To avoid misleading him in his understanding of the world, Vesemir had even placed views prejudiced against witchers before him to read.

"Child, I'll be reading in the chair over there. If you have any questions, come ask me. I'll do my best to answer them," Vesemir said gently.

"Thank you, Uncle Vesemir."

For Victor, there was no better beginning to entering a new world than reading. Reading would never be wasted. Books could not only help him recall memories buried and forgotten, but more importantly, they would allow him to complete the learning process he should have gone through on the surface. If he needed to demonstrate foreknowledge in the future, he could avoid many unnecessary suspicions.

Those transmigrators who began exposing secrets, displaying foreknowledge, making flawless calculations, and intellectually crushing everyone without even putting on a superficial act had not gotten themselves killed only because they possessed protagonist plot armor.

He took that as a warning.

When Vesemir woke from his evening nap, he was surprised to find Victor still seated at the desk, diligently reading without putting down his book.

From the side, the slanting rays of the setting sun fell across his ordinary profile. A faint, satisfied smile rested at the corner of his lips. For some reason, the sight gave Vesemir the feeling that a quiet strength was gathering within him.

He rose, walked over to Victor, and patted his shoulder. "Let's eat first."

Setting down the book, Victor looked up. "Uncle Vesemir, in the world where I used to live, everyday life held almost no danger. But in this world, slaughter and conflict are clearly everywhere.

"I want to train harder and learn swordsmanship to protect myself, but I don't know where to begin. Would you be willing to train me?"

Vesemir did not answer at once. He studied Victor's serious expression. After their eyes met for several seconds, he said, "Do you mean you want to become a witcher?"

The boy shook his head.

"Witchers, also called monster hunters, are mutants created through potent potions by mages after the Conjunction of the Spheres, in order to fight the monsters brought by the Conjunction. They possess greater speed and strength than ordinary people, extraordinary senses, and long lives. Their common traits are mutated pupils and reproductive isolation.

"I respect witchers for their struggle against monsters, but becoming a witcher myself?

"No!

Absolutely not!

I had no desire whatsoever to undergo the Trial of the Grasses—the seven days of seizures, high fever, nosebleeds, vomiting, pain that reached deep into the organs, and a failure rate as high as seventy percent, ending in death." His tone was decisive, leaving no room for doubt.

Hearing his answer, Vesemir let out a breath of relief, though there was also a trace of disappointment. He certainly did not wish to see another child endure such inhuman torment, yet he could not help regretting the severing of the legacy.

"You read well. An excellent summary—the symptoms were all correct." He patted Victor on the shoulder in encouragement. "Of course I can train you. After dinner, get some rest early. We start at five tomorrow morning."

Victor smiled happily. "No problem. Let me make dinner tonight. I'm very good at cooking."