The year 1230 of the Resurrection Era.
The autumnal equinox, noon.
A breeze swept along the banks of the White Stone River, rippling the water and gently swaying the reeds.
Among the burdock and nettles not far from the bank sat a fairly flat stone.
A youth wearing a black leather jacket knelt on it.
His head was lowered, his hands loosely cupped before his lower abdomen. He remained motionless, like a solid rock.
"Caw, caw, caw..."
The raven on the rocky cliff opened its beak and let out a piercing cry.
Arwen slowly opened his eyes, revealing gray, slit pupils.
His gaze fixed on the reeds by the bank. The golden reeds bent to either side with a faint rustle.
He planted his palms on the ground and stood.
Reaching over his shoulder, he drew his longsword.
The silver blade reflected a dazzling gleam in the sunlight.
[School of the Wolf Witcher Silver Sword]
He rolled his neck, leaned forward slightly, and twirled the silver sword in his hand.
Several blue shadows emerged from the reeds, baring hideous fangs beneath lifeless fish eyes.
"Hah!"
The Drowners roared and attacked first.
There was not a trace of fear on Arwen's face. Instead, he looked utterly calm, as though he had long since grown accustomed to this sight.
He lunged forward and pivoted on his right foot, delivering a powerful diagonal slash.
The sharp silver sword cut the leading Drowner clean in half at the waist.
His gaze shifted to the second, then the third...
He moved as casually as if taking a stroll, sword flashing as murky blood spattered.
Suddenly, a Drowner darted out of the reeds and launched a surprise attack at his back.
Arwen did not even look straight at it. He merely raised his hand and cast an Aard Sign into the air.
A fan-shaped shock wave burst from his palm.
Boom!
The blast sent water on the ground spraying and knocked the ambushing Drowner flat.
Only then did he turn and stroll over to it.
The creature struggled to rise. Arwen simply raised his sword, thrust hard, and twisted, slicing open its throat.
"Rustle, rustle..."
The reeds swayed. All that remained in his ears was the sound of the autumn breeze passing through.
He glanced over the scattered Drowner corpses. Their blood had stained the water pooled in the muddy hollows.
The raven flew down from the rock face and feasted on the Drowner corpses, gulping down mouthful after mouthful until its belly bulged, its black feathers glossy.
[Drowner killed. Obtained Drowner Mutagen 25%] x5!
Arwen glanced at the panel and combined the loose Drowner Mutagen fragments.
[Mutagens: Drowner Mutagen (green) x3, Drowner Mutagen (white) x4...]
On the spring equinox that year, Vesemir had held a Drowner-hunting event.
Arwen had taken first place with twenty-seven Drowner ears.
His prize had been the witcher silver sword now in his hand.
[Drowner Mutagen (green): Equipping this mutagen slightly increases physical speed and grants the green talent Underwater Breathing.] [Underwater Breathing (green): The muscles in your cheeks are strengthened, allowing you to filter lake water for oxygen and move freely underwater at depths of up to 250 meters for 30 minutes.]
The improvement from white to green was not much.
Arwen took an oilcloth from his belt pouch and wiped the foul blood from his blade.
By his careful count, the one before him had been the 136th Drowner he had killed.
To be honest, he was getting tired of killing them.
Abruptly, his ears caught the sound of the raven beating its wings, and a powerful palpitation surged through his chest.
Danger was approaching.
A sharp rush of air rang out.
Arwen reacted instantly. His left hand formed the Quen Sign, and a pale blue barrier enveloped him.
Crack!
Before the sound of the shattering barrier had faded, he had already thrown himself sideways and rolled out of the way.
Hum!
Steadying himself, he cast another Quen Sign on himself.
His cat eyes swept over the spot where he had just stood. A splattered lump of mud now lay there.
The attack had clearly been aimed at his face. Had he been unfortunate enough to take the hit, his vision would certainly have been impaired.
If that happened here beside the Drowner-infested White Stone River, even an experienced witcher could not claim it would leave him entirely unaffected.
A swift figure flashed through the reeds.
Arwen rose quickly, his brows drawing together slightly.
"Not a Drowner. Drowners don't have the brains to throw mud."
"Heh, heh..."
A strange cry followed.
"Hah!"
The reeds burst apart.
A hunched humanoid leaped out, reaching forward with sharp claws.
Arwen turned aside, dodging the attack.
His nostrils flared, catching a stench of stagnant drains mixed with fish.
"Heh, heh!"
The hunched humanoid hopped in place and tilted its head, seemingly not expecting him to dodge.
Holding his sword in his right hand, Arwen circled it, his cat eyes studying it constantly.
The monster before him had disheveled hair as tangled as a clump of waterweed.
It stood hunched over on bent legs, completely naked, its skin covered in wrinkles and warts. Long bony protrusions jutted from its back.
Its hands hung to the ground, tipped with ten nails as sharp as sickles.
A Water Hag!
According to The Book of Monsters, those claws were every bit as formidable as a werewolf's.
Arwen curled his lip.
"Disgusting."
Especially when it had hopped just now, making those sagging things on its chest, like shrunken sponges, jiggle violently. It was an outright eyesore.
As though it understood Arwen's meaning, the Water Hag opened its mouth, exposing two rows of rotten teeth. Green poisonous mist seeped out as it roared and charged at him like a lunatic.
It was much slower than a Drowner.
Having tracked its attack, Arwen's cat eyes filled with disgust and impatience.
He would rather fight Drowners all day than have this hideous thing pollute his mind.
"Get lost!"
His left hand cast the Igni Sign. Magic surged, and an orange spark instantly expanded.
Boom!
A fan of flame erupted, sending out a scorching wave of heat.
"Aaah!"
The Water Hag howled, clawing incessantly at its burned cheeks. Its nails tore through wrinkled skin, exposing murky blood.
As the flames faded, a black hobnailed boot suddenly appeared against her hideous face.
Thud!
The Water Hag was kicked back several steps.
Arwen covered the distance in a few quick strides and got behind it in the space of a single breath.
Planting his right foot firmly on the ground, he spun with the momentum of his charge. A silver arc swept out to meet the staggering Water Hag.
Shick!
A streak of blood flew out as the blade severed its neck.
The ugly head flew high like a clump of waterweed, then landed heavily on the muddy riverbank and rolled several times.
[Water Hag killed. Obtained Water Hag Mutagen 25%] [School of the Wolf Witcher Swordsmanship experience +1!] [Quen Sign experience +1!] [Igni experience +1!]
Arwen took a deep breath. Seeing that he had gained three experience points, he considered it a decent haul.
He glanced at the sky. The sun had already slipped behind the western cliff face and would set before long.
It was time to head back.
Today was the autumnal equinox. His heart, which had only just settled, began to stir again.
"Caw, caw, caw!"
The raven circled overhead. This was very unusual.
During these days of hunting Drowners, he had long since grown used to the raven's presence. He could even call it a companion.
Whenever a monster approached, the raven would cry out in warning.
He, in turn, dealt with the monsters and took any useful alchemical materials, leaving the corpses for the raven to enjoy.
But now the raven showed no intention of landing to eat.
"More monsters?"
His gaze was cool as he tightened his grip on the sword hilt, remaining alert to his surroundings.
"Rustle..."
His gaze instantly locked onto a thicket a short distance ahead along the river. A figure slowly emerged.
The man was tall and powerfully built, wearing a red leather jacket with black patterns and silver studs set into its shoulder guards.
He raised his head, revealing amber cat eyes beneath short brown hair.
Arwen's pupils widened. The wariness vanished from his face, replaced by delight.
"Eskel!"