"Hoo... hah..."
Arwen ran with sweat drenching his head. Geralt chased him in a circle around Kaer Morhen a full eight times, making him feel like his lungs were about to burst.
His legs went soft, and he collapsed straight onto the ground, turning his head to see Geralt walking up with a gloomy face.
"I can't do it anymore... Geralt... I admit defeat..."
Arwen tossed his training sword aside, waved his hand, and declared surrender.
Veins bulged on Geralt's forehead. There was nothing about the opponent that resembled a witcher apprentice; he looked more like a street scoundrel in Vesemir's descriptions.
Yet seeing the opponent sitting on the ground and panting like a dying stray dog, his anger dissipated quite a bit.
"No, you won."
?
Confusion flashed in Arwen's eyes, and a rich, rusty smell rushed straight into his nasal cavity.
[School of the Wolf Witcher Swordsmanship XP +3!]
[Quen Sign XP +3!]
Geralt put away his training sword and extended a hand toward him.
"Get up and walk around. The dogma should state that you must not sit down directly after training."
Arwen took the other man's hand and managed to stand up from the ground.
Aiken and the others also rushed over in a flurry, their faces full of concern.
"What's the situation now? Who won?"
"Needless to say, it has to be Geralt. Arwen is truly miserable, he can't even stand steady."
"Sigh... If I could fight Geralt like this, I'd wake up laughing in my dreams."
Geralt gave a dry cough. "No, according to the rule set before the duel, I am not allowed to cast Signs."
"But just now I used the Aard Sign to break his Quen Sign, I have already violated the agreement."
"So," Geralt patted Arwen on the shoulder, "you won, Arwen."
"Ah? Arwen won?"
"Not allowed to use Signs? Did Geralt say that before?"
Aiken glanced sideways at Horton. "He said it, Geralt said it himself."
The apprentices fell into a brief silence, their gazes burning bright, leaving only heavy breathing.
"Oh, we apprentices won!"
"Goddess above, Geralt lost, haha!"
The apprentices shouted excitedly, hoisting Arwen into the air.
Hearing the cheers, Arwen slowly came to his senses.
"I won?!"
"Haha..."
He just wanted to laugh out loud a few times, but caught sight of Geralt's rapidly darkening face out of the corner of his eye.
He hurriedly coughed a few times to force the laughter back in.
He knew his donkey-school swordsmanship violated the spirit of the duel, but winning was better than losing.
Under a flurry of flattery from Paul, Arwen drifted a bit, getting carried rapidly toward the Kaer Morhen keep.
"We have to tell Master Vesemir this good news, Arwen won!"
Geralt looked at the backs of the crowd, the corner of his mouth lifting as he silently followed behind them.
Inside the kitchen, Vesemir had already prepared lunch.
It was no different from usual: bacon and eggs, two-stuffed-mushroom chicken, and white bread.
The only difference was that Vesemir allowed the apprentices to drink a glass of iced pale ale.
At the long table, the apprentices passionately discussed the duel that had just taken place. Vesemir put on a shocked expression, incidentally reprimanding Geralt along the way.
After everyone was full of food and drink, Vesemir led Arwen and the others to see Geralt off at the portcullis of Kaer Morhen.
Geralt slung his steel sword across his back, led a grey mare out of the stable, stepped into the stirrup, and mounted the horse's back.
He raised a hand to tighten the hair tie binding his white hair, and adjusted his black leather jacket.
The silver sword, silver chain, witcher potions, as well as luggage and crown gold coins, were all placed by Vesemir in the pack at the horse's flank.
Vesemir rubbed the mare's mane. "Be careful on the road, kid."
Geralt nodded silently.
He did not look back, pulled the reins tight with his right hand, and let out a low shout.
The sound of hooves moved, kicking up a gust of dust as they trotted across the drawbridge and quickly vanished from everyone's sight.
Watching, Arwen felt a slight reluctance, but even more, a surging passion.
A long while later, Aiken suddenly spoke up.
"I'm going to go practice swordsmanship."
With that, he turned and walked toward the training yard.
Whether it was the duel just now or Geralt's departure, the blow to him was quite significant.
"I'm going too!"
Paul, who usually liked to slack off, became proactive this time as well.
"Let's go, Arwen."
Arwen uttered an acknowledgement, and Vesemir's voice suddenly came from behind.
"Arwen, Lady Viris wants to see you."
Arwen's body paused. "Yes, Master Vesemir."
All the way to the second floor of the keep.
He was surprised to find that the door to Viris's room was open.
He walked over quickly, his cat eyes narrowing.
Most of the familiar furnishings inside the room had vanished, and even those heavy shelves were nowhere to be seen, leaving only the empty red carpet.
Viris was focused on packing the documents on the table.
Arwen knocked on the door first, his tone somewhat apprehensive. "Lady Viris, are you leaving?"
Viris did not look up, her voice hurried.
"Obviously, I have stayed here for a very long time, and the work over there has piled up for quite a while, so it's time to return."
She tidied up the documents in her hand and quickly placed them into the iron box beside her.
Arwen raised a hand to help, but was stopped by Viris.
Her tone was gentle. "Arwen, being able to teach a clever child like you these past few months, as an educator, I feel extremely pleased."
"You did not disappoint my expectations, learning a lot of knowledge, but wanting to completely digest it still requires good sedimentation."
"Calling you here this time is simply to bid you farewell."
"Isn't this a bit too hasty..."
Having two people who were both mentors and friends leave one after another in a single day made it impossible for Arwen not to feel distressed inside.
Viris packed the last bits of documents, raised a hand to lock the iron box with magic, and picked it up with one hand.
"Hoo..."
A strong, silvery-white beam of light burst out from behind her, expanding from a small point of light to the size of an entire wall. Space rippled, and a fierce wind blew the hem of her pure white robes.
Viris thought for a moment, then suddenly smiled.
"At the moment of parting, I should also send you some things, hoping they can help you in the future."
Suddenly, two rays of light flew out from Viris's pouch and landed in Arwen's hand.
One of the herbs exuded a silver radiance and powerful vitality.
Under [Alchemy Perception], Arwen captured those ripples of soft magic.
"You recognize this; it is moonlight grass. It can be used as an alchemy material, and can also assist you in your daily meditation training."
"But most importantly, it itself contains magic. When you encounter a strong enemy and your magic is exhausted, it might just save your life."
"As for the other business card, you will naturally understand once you look at it."
Arwen flipped the card in his hand.
The card was only half a palm in size, with an island painted in the center, featuring magnificent elven palaces with carved beams and painted pillars.
At the top of the card was a line of gilded lettering in the Elder Speech.
Aretuza Academy.
The most powerful magical academy for women on the Continent.
And what shocked him the most was the signature in the lower right corner.
He jerked his head up.
The other party had already stepped into the portal.
"You are..."
She suddenly paused her steps, holding the heavy box with her right hand, her body leaning slightly, and made a silencing gesture with her left hand.
"Shh..."
"My little witcher assistant, I am very glad to have met you, and I also expect that one day you can come to Thanedd Island to visit."
"But before that, make sure not to die in the Trials."
With that, she smiled at Arwen, turned around, and stepped into the portal.
The dazzling beam of light vanished in an instant, taking along the sorceress dressed in the robes of a Melitele nun.
Arwen smelled the faint lingering scent of chamomile in the air, his emotions rising and falling unpredictably.
His grey cat eyes returned once more to the business card.
Headmistress: Tissaia de Vries
The sorceress closest to legend.
Arwen clenched his palm, tucked the business card close to his chest, and paid a respectful apprentice's bow toward the spot where Viris had vanished.