Vesemir had barely finished speaking.
Four drowners were already lunging at him. Arwen held his training sword, his catlike pupils contracting.
With the powerful reflexes granted by [Dual Souls] and his mutations, his mind once again entered a state of intense focus, and time seemed to slow.
Arwen rolled and dodged among the drowners.
Rip!
A tear opened in the coarse linen shirt over his chest, and his skin burned with a searing sting.
"Hah!"
A drowner crouched low, a growl rumbling in its throat.
Arwen swung his sword, barely managing to drive back the drowner in front of him.
Fighting drowners with a training sword was far too difficult.
Sweat covered Arwen's forehead. If this stalemate continued, never mind that 75% mutagen-he might end up sharing Blyde's fate.
Whoosh!
A sharp rush of air sounded behind him, and a silver streak flashed through the corner of his eye.
Shing!
A long, slender blade plunged into the ground, dim, obscure runes engraved beneath its slightly angled crossguard.
Arwen's catlike eyes flickered. He decisively dropped his training sword and seized the hilt.
At the same time, a gust reeking of fish rushed into his face.
Arwen rolled backward, and a message suddenly appeared in his mind.
The white talent [Blade Perception] activated.
[School of the Wolf witcher silver sword: a silver sword from the Kaer Morhen armory collection, silver-plated steel core, blade engraved with low-level runes, thirty-seven flaws, total length thirty-eight inches, blade length twenty-five inches, weight forty ounces, center of gravity one inch from the guard, suitable for slashing]
It's a silver sword!
Delighted, Arwen quickly rose and gripped the hilt with both hands. In mere moments, he became familiar with the weapon in his hands.
"Hah!"
A drowner lunged at him. Arwen glared and swung his sword down.
The blade traced a silvery-white arc through the air and struck the drowner's head.
Clang!
The instant the edge touched the scales atop the drowner's head, the obscure runes on the blade shone.
Sizzle!
Like butter in a hot pan, they gave off a sharp hiss and melted instantly.
The drowner was cleaved open, head and all, and half its head flew past his ear.
[Drowner killed. Gained 25% drowner mutagen.]
Before Arwen could marvel at it, drowners silently closed in from both sides.
He spun, dodged their lunges, and slashed!
This sequence of movements had long since been engraved in his muscle memory.
Vesemir narrowed his catlike eyes, watching every swing of Arwen's sword, unable to keep himself from admiring him.
This apprentice swordsmanship was truly solid.
[Drowner killed. Gained 25% drowner mutagen.] [Drowner killed. Gained 25% drowner mutagen.]
"Hah!"
The last drowner frantically flailed its claws. Arwen raised his sword to block.
The silver sword's power split the drowner's palms, but the tremendous force of the impact also numbed Arwen's arms.
He pivoted forward to the side and brought his sword down.
The drowner's shrill howls gradually died away beside his ears.
Arwen panted heavily, looking at the murky blood covering the ground before him. Drowner limbs lay everywhere, their entrails spilling across the ground.
He lowered his head to look at the silvery-white blade in his hand, tightened his grip, and silently swallowed.
This was the power of a silver sword. It was the natural bane of magical monsters like these.
What a piece of junk that training sword had been.
Clap, clap!
Vesemir walked over, clapping.
"That was a splendid display of swordsmanship, Arwen. Your apprentice swordsmanship is very solid. Well done, my boy."
Geralt also stepped forward, nodded to Arwen, and held out his hand.
"Good work."
Arwen knew Geralt had thrown him the silver sword and handed it over somewhat reluctantly.
Geralt took it, flicked off the blood, and sheathed it.
Vesemir patted Arwen's shoulder. "No need to envy him. Once you become a witcher, you'll have a silver sword of your own."
With his little wish seen through by Vesemir, Arwen scratched his head in embarrassment.
Vesemir took a few steps forward into the scattered drowner remains and lightly nudged the head that had been split in two with the toe of his boot.
"Tsk, tsk. A very clean strike. A rare performance even among all our past apprentices, but not perfect."
Geralt shrugged, knowing Vesemir was about to start teaching again.
Arwen walked over with a solemn expression.
Vesemir crouched and pointed at the puddle of yellowish-brown soft tissue.
"I remember teaching you about drowner-related alchemy before. How much do you still remember?"
Arwen recalled his past alchemy lessons and his understanding of "The Witcher," then quickly replied, "I remember that drowner brains and tongues are alchemical ingredients. They can be used to make potions such as the Swallow Potion."
"Correct, but this drowner brain clearly can't be used anymore."
"An intact drowner brain can fetch one and a half crowns from an alchemist."
"The crown is one of the most commonly used currencies in the Northern Kingdoms. One and a half might not sound like much, but it's enough for a good meal at an inn. A hundred crowns can even buy you a fairly decent horse."
"And these, too-the drowners' scales, claws, and fangs. Take them to the quartermasters in the local military camps. They can use them to make small weapons, and you can earn a fair bit from them."
Arwen's eyes kept flickering.
He knew Vesemir was passing on valuable experience in handling life as a witcher.
Even the somewhat laid-back Geralt was listening carefully.
For him, who would soon leave the mountain to travel, this was all knowledge he could put to immediate use.
Vesemir stood. "All right, that's it for this morning."
Arwen and Geralt both gave the apprentice's salute.
Vesemir looked at Arwen. "This afternoon is scheduled for alchemy lessons. Go run, my boy. Since you performed well just now, you may run five fewer laps."
Arwen froze for a moment.
He had thought he had gotten out of running, but Vesemir still remembered.
"Yes!"
Arwen gave a short shout, turned, and ran toward the castle wall.
Watching Arwen's retreating figure, Vesemir's stern mouth curved into a rare smile.
"This boy is neither arrogant nor impatient. Truly good. How did I never notice that before?"
Geralt murmured thoughtfully. "The Trial of the Grasses, Vesemir. The Trial of the Grasses changes people's personalities. You said so before."
Vesemir nodded thoughtfully, then stretched his back.
"That's true. Geralt, let's deal with these drowners. Hiss, this old back of mine."
Geralt let out a breath. "Let me do it."
Vesemir narrowed his eyes, clearly in a good mood.
Not far away, Arwen silently opened his panel as he jogged beneath the castle wall.
[125% drowner mutagen detected. Synthesize?]
Don't disappoint me. Synthesize.
[Obtained drowner mutagen x1. Remaining drowner mutagen: 25%.] [Drowner mutagen (white): installing this mutagen slightly increases physical speed and grants the white talent Underwater Breathing.] [Underwater Breathing (white): the muscles in your cheeks are strengthened, allowing you to filter lake water for oxygen and move freely in shallow water for 20 minutes.] [Install mutagen?]