Arwen made his way to the second floor of Kaer Morhen.
The second floor was much smaller than the hall below.
A dim corridor ran down the middle, lined on both sides with individual rooms.
Only full-fledged witchers could live in these rooms.
Apprentices like Arwen could only crowd into the apprentices' quarters on the first floor with everyone else.
"Up the spiral staircase, second room on the left."
Arwen remembered the location Lady Viris had given him yesterday.
He walked straight to the door, then stopped.
He had a strange feeling about Lady Viris that he could not quite put into words.
Both his own impressions and Paul and the others' unusual behavior at dinner yesterday had shrouded Viris, the herbalist sister, in mystery.
After considering it for a while, he still raised his hand and knocked on the wooden door.
After all, from what he knew of Vesemir, the man was fiercely protective of his own.
If he knew Lady Viris posed a danger, he would never have let Arwen come here unprepared.
"Come in."
A clear female voice came from inside, and Arwen pushed open the wooden door.
A faint, fresh scent of chamomile drifted out of the room.
Arwen's pupils suddenly widened.
The room was neatly furnished with a full set of household necessities, a stark contrast to Kaer Morhen's dilapidated surroundings.
A red wooden desk faced the doorway.
Viris, the herbalist sister, sat upright in the chair behind it.
She set down her quill and raised her head slightly. Even indoors, she wore the white hood that marked her as a sister of Melitele, with only two curling locks of black hair showing.
Parchment, rolls of vellum, and books lay neatly arranged on the desk beside her.
She adjusted her cuffs and loosely folded her hands.
Together with the arrangement of her desk, it gave her an air of quiet authority.
"Arwen?" A slight smile touched her lips. "Good afternoon. Have you finished training for the day?"
Arwen came back to himself, then bowed in an apprentice's salute. "Good afternoon, Lady Viris. You're right, training is over."
"As we agreed, is there anything here I can help with?"
The herbalist sister's voice softened at his words, and she raised a finger to point to the left.
"There's a crate of newly arrived herbs under that shelf. I haven't had time to sort them yet. They're all very basic ones, so give it a try."
"All right."
Arwen's heart leaped with joy.
Experience points, here I come!
Following the herbalist sister's pointing finger, he also took the opportunity to look around her room.
The room was very orderly. The red-bordered carpet was spotless, and countless mysterious implements stood on rows of shelves.
Of course, what caught Arwen's eye most were the two rows of books filling an entire bookcase.
In this world that resembled the Middle Ages, books represented knowledge and were undoubtedly incredibly precious.
Viris, the herbalist sister, looked at him and chuckled.
"Hehe, it seems my little assistant is quite interested in my book collection."
"Have you read any of them?"
Arwen pointed to one. "The Book of Monsters. Master Vesemir covered it in our lessons on monsters."
"Yes, that's a required subject for witchers. As it should be."
"This is..." Arwen looked at an entire row of matching red volumes. "World History, by Roderick de Novembre. Lady Viris, is yours a complete set?"
"Of course."
Arwen was inwardly astonished. World History was extremely rare; even Kaer Morhen's library only had an incomplete set.
Arwen's gaze swept across the bookcase. The Secret World, The Golden Mirror... These were all books he had never read.
Suddenly, he noticed a book with a line of crooked characters on its cover.
This was not the Common Speech he knew.
"Ard Aercane. That's the Elder Speech, the writing of the elves."
Understanding dawned on Arwen, and he opened his mouth to ask what it meant.
Viris clapped her hands, interrupting him.
"All right, enough chatting. Nothing in this world comes without giving something in return. You should understand what I mean."
Arwen smiled somewhat helplessly.
He understood what Viris meant and wholeheartedly agreed.
Knowledge had to be paid for, and the more advanced the knowledge, the higher the price.
His way of paying was to sort herbs.
He quickly walked to the spot Viris had just pointed out.
Above the shelf were rows of drawers, their fronts fitted with labels engraved with the names of the various herb categories.
A wooden crate three feet wide was tucked beneath the cabinet.
A faint herbal fragrance wafted from the crate.
Arwen bent slightly, and a tearing pain shot through his back, making him frown a little.
But injuries like these were not enough to hinder him.
"Wait!"
Viris suddenly stood and walked toward Arwen.
There was a trace of anger in her voice, leaving Arwen puzzled.
"Take off your clothes."
"Lady Viris?"
"This is not a discussion. It's an order."
Arwen hesitated for a while, then slowly took off his shirt.
Viris looked at his upper body. Bruises covered his skin.
His back in particular bore several red welts, stark and alarming.
Viris could not help drawing a sharp breath.
"Where did these wounds come from?"
Arwen looked at Viris. The haze beneath her hood parted a little, revealing a pair of ink-black, furious eyes.
Her presence was terrifyingly intense.
Arwen answered truthfully, "I got them during training over the past few days."
"Training?" Viris lifted Arwen's arm and could not help cursing.
"Those lunatics! You're still a child. How could they do this!"
"I think those mutations have ruined their brains too, those damned, slaughter-obsessed fools."
Arwen froze. He had never expected this to be what had angered Viris.
"It must be banned! This experiment must be banned!"
Viris roared.
"Lady Viris..." Seeing her agitation, Arwen hurriedly said, "I think you've misunderstood. These came from my special training over the past two days."
"What special training?"
"Uh... windmill training, and more advanced swordsmanship training."
"Master Vesemir said it's better to sweat more in training than bleed while fighting monsters."
At that, Viris's terrifying aura subsided a little, and she considered his words for a while.
"I didn't expect you witchers to be capable of saying anything so philosophical. I thought you were all brawn and no brains."
With that, she first took a clean pair of linen gloves from beside her and put them on.
Then she rose onto her toes, pulled out a drawer at the top of the shelf, and took out a small piece of green salve.
A strong herbal scent filled his nostrils.
Arwen said, "I already applied medicine before I came."
"Hmph." Viris glanced at the grease-like stuff smeared over his wounds.
"Don't even mention that stuff you fished out of a rubbish heap."
"Hold out your arms and stand still."