"Not bad." Lambert glanced at the corpses on the ground, a rare glimmer of approval in his eyes. "How do you feel?"
"I... I'm fine."
Lynn wiped the blood off his silver sword on a Harpy's feathers.
Lambert shrugged and said with some surprise,
"Look at all these corpses, the nauseating stench of blood in the air, and that mix of rotting flesh and bird droppings unique to Harpies... and you're fine?"
"Looks like you were born to be a witcher."
Only after Lambert pointed it out did Lynn realize.
Standing among these piles of corpses, surrounded by the nauseatingly thick stench of blood, he felt no urge to vomit or even the slightest nausea.
It wasn't that he couldn't smell anything.
In fact, a witcher's enhanced senses were far more sensitive to smells than an ordinary person's.
Yet he truly felt no panic, tension, or fear.
Of course, he wasn't getting wildly pumped up like some lunatic, either.
He just felt... very calm.
Perhaps, as Lambert said, he really was a born witcher.
After cutting the useful materials out of the Harpies, the two climbed into Lambert's little boat.
"I'll steer."
"Why?"
"Because it's my boat. That's why."
There was no mist over the lake that morning, and Lynn could easily make out the cave entrance on the opposite shore.
The little boat glided gently across the lake, leaving a long, narrow ripple behind it.
Ripples spread outward from the boat's path, fanning out like tiny fish scales on the surface of the lake.
After a while, the boat finally reached the shore.
There was nowhere on this side to tie a rope.
So Lynn helped Lambert drag the boat ashore.
That would keep the current from carrying it away.
Although both he and Lambert were strong swimmers, sitting in a boat was naturally more comfortable than swimming across the lake, exhausting themselves and getting soaked.
"Let me think. How did that pearl of wisdom go again? Tread lightly. Don't wake Old Speartip."
Old Speartip was the Cyclops that had long lived in the cave.
He was also one of the toughest "examiners" in the Trial of the Medallion.
Many apprentices had fallen at Old Speartip's hands.
Cyclopes usually lived very long lives, and no one knew exactly how old Old Speartip was.
"Why don't we get a wooden stake, sharpen it, and use it to blind the Cyclops? Then we can disguise ourselves as sheep and sneak out of the cave."
"Ha ha ha. Funny joke, but don't tell it again."
As the two bantered, a cry for help suddenly came from far away.
Lynn turned to look.
But he could see nothing except the tall, dense reeds along the shore.
Lambert looked at him. "Hear something?"
Lynn nodded.
"I heard it."
"And?"
"Ignore him."
He had indeed just heard a child calling for help.
And Lambert had heard it too, which meant he wasn't imagining things.
But Kaer Morhen lay deep in the rarely traveled Blue Mountains.
And their current location was even deeper in the mountains than Kaer Morhen.
Never mind children-even the villagers living at the foot of the Blue Mountains wouldn't venture this far into the interior.
Besides, among the books in Kaer Morhen was a text specifically recording information about this kind of monster:
There was a type of necrophage called a Foglet.
They excelled at deception, luring people in, and clouding their minds.
Wherever there was thick fog, there might be Foglets-marshes, mountain passes, and the banks of rivers and lakes.
If there was no fog, Foglets could create or summon thick fog themselves.
If the air around you grew heavy without any wind blowing, it meant a Foglet had arrived and was ready to attack you at any moment.
The thick fog wasn't just somewhere for a Foglet to hide. It was also its weapon.
They manipulated the fog.
They could isolate travelers, leaving them unable to see the road or hear any sounds.
Like fireflies, they gave off a faint glow to lure lost travelers into their lairs in swamps, caves, or ravines.
Sometimes, they didn't even need to attack people. They only had to drive their prey mad and into a swamp, then wait for them to drown.
Recalling what he had read, Lynn could be almost certain.
That child's voice was a deliberate imitation by a Foglet to lure them in.
Lambert spoke in a tone that begged for a punch.
"Oh, aren't we going to take a look? There might be some poor child who needs our help."
Lynn rolled his eyes at him in exasperation. "Do I look like a three-year-old to you?"
"I'd say you look four."
Lynn didn't indulge him, either, and gave him the middle finger.
"Well said. Don't say it again."
Jokes were jokes and banter was banter, but once they were done fooling around, neither forgot what they were there for.
"Ready to enter the cave?"
Lynn nodded.
The smile vanished from Lambert's face. "Before we go in, drink a Cat Potion. Do you still remember what it does?"
Lynn also grew serious and said,
"Cat Potion is one of the potions witchers use most often. It's suitable for drinking before entering dark areas such as caves or tombs, or when lingering in dangerous areas in the middle of the night."
"After drinking it, a witcher can see in complete darkness to avoid ambushes by any nocturnal creatures."
"This potion allows the drinker to see ordinary creatures, as well as creatures made of inanimate matter, even through a wall."
"But like the other magical potions witchers use, it causes a slight buildup of toxins."
Lambert nodded.
Then he handed over a Cat Potion. "Looks like you really have committed all that knowledge to memory. Good."
After watching Lynn drink it, he took out another Cat Potion and drained it himself.
"In the cave ahead, there's a Cyclops called Old Speartip. Don't ask me how long he's lived. When I was your age, he'd already been living in that cave for years."
"Kid, make sure you remember what I'm about to tell you."
Lambert held up two fingers.
"When we enter the cave, there are only two possibilities:"
"The first, and the most common, is that Old Speartip is fast asleep. As long as we don't make any loud noises, we can get past safely."
Lynn nodded.
He knew Old Speartip was the only giant in the entire cave, and there were no other monsters.
As long as they didn't wake him, they would succeed.
"What about the second?" he asked.
Lambert was silent for a while before answering.
"The second is what happened when I took the trial back then... We'll need to escape right under Old Speartip's eye while he's awake."
"Of course, none of us wants that to happen. So from now on, tread lightly, and even watch how you breathe."