With Old Maotou no longer a threat, the two were less cautious than before and began chatting.
"Witt, your Axii Sign really was powerful. You scrambled Old Speartip's brains in one go!"
Witt asked in confusion, "Wasn't that something we did together?"
Geralt shook his head. As a master witcher who had cast Signs countless times, he naturally knew his Axii Sign was nowhere near that powerful.
"The fight was already over before my Axii could take effect. I never expected you to have such a powerful talent for magic."
"Wasn't that thanks to Petri's Philter?" Witt then told Geralt what he had seen after drinking the potion.
Geralt quickly said, "We can't see tangible Chaos magic flowing like a river the way you described, and drinking Petri's Philter doesn't have such an exaggerated effect on us, either. You were like... a sorcerer, tearing Old Speartip's brains apart so easily."
Then he added, "I've only ever seen sorcerers use magic like that." As he finished, a trace of nostalgia appeared on Geralt's face again.
"Looks like I might become a master witcher renowned for his Signs someday! Haha!" Witt said with a laugh.
"Yes, Master Witt of Lyria." Geralt laughed along with him.
As they joked and chatted, the two emerged from the cave.
Not long after they stepped onto the ancient path outside, a head-sized stone was hurled at them from one side.
Sure enough, the three troll brothers appeared on the hill before them.
Trolls were made almost entirely of stone. They were ugly on the outside, but surprisingly simple at heart, and could communicate with humans. Some were even hired by humans to build bridges or guard homes.
They even stayed with the same mate for life, their hearts filled with a love of stones and alcohol.
One of them... all three trolls looked the same. The troll at the front spoke. "You witchers go farther, we trolls throw stones. Witchers understand?" His tone was steady, seemingly filled with world-shaking wisdom.
Geralt and Witt exchanged a glance and simultaneously released their grips on their sword hilts.
Geralt spoke to them. "We understand, trolls, but we need to reach the Circle of Elements on the other side."
"Listen good. We trolls don't go witcher house. You witchers don't go troll cave," said the troll in the middle, the same one who had spoken before.
"Troll cave, cave has pretty stones," the troll on the left added.
Geralt spread his hands helplessly. "We aren't going to the troll cave, and we don't want your pretty stones."
The three trolls seemed startled by Geralt's words and said incredulously, "Witchers not go cave, not want stones, just passing? Witchers... good people?"
"That's right. We're good people, and so are you," Witt joined the conversation.
"Little witcher, you smell of bad person," said the troll on the left.
"Yes, smell of bad person's blood," the other two agreed.
Witt knew what they meant, so he took the pouch from his waist, pulled out Old Speartip's heart, and showed it to the trolls.
At the sight of the bloody heart, unmistakable terror appeared on the trolls' simple faces.
"This belonged to Old Speartip. We've already dealt with him. If you want, you can have his body." Witt put Old Speartip's heart away.
"Little witcher kill Old Speartip. Good person."
"Give us food, too. Good person."
"Not want our stones, either. Good person. You witchers go through."
With that, the three troll brothers cleared the path and headed toward the cave behind Geralt and Witt, allowing the two to pass easily.
Before they had gone far, Geralt stopped and looked at Witt with a complicated expression.
"Aren't you curious why I negotiated with the trolls?" Geralt asked, curious at how Witt seemed to take it for granted.
"Don't we only kill monsters that harm people? Besides, those trolls were pretty cute. As long as they don't hurt anyone, I think they have the right to live in this world, too."
"Yes. I've always felt that intelligent monsters, or creatures capable of communicating with people, aren't really that different from humans. As long as they don't endanger anyone else's life, I won't take the initiative to hurt them. I hope you'll also..." Geralt expressed his views tactfully.
"Even though we witchers are human, don't ordinary people treat us as monsters, too?" Witt expressed his thoughts with a question of his own.
"Besides, I might even be a dryad's child. In some people's eyes, wouldn't that make me no different from a monster?"
Geralt nodded. He was glad someone shared his views and felt relieved.
"No matter what, we're the ones who are family now. Geralt, you, me, the old man, Lambert, and Eskel."
"That's right. How did that saying go again? Only a pack of wolves can survive the bitter winter of the Dragon Mountains."
After several dozen more steps, an ancient path appeared before them. Several man-made stone pillars stood beside it, with long-rusted torch brackets nailed to them.
This was the Circle of Elements, built for the Order's mages during the glorious age when the Order of Witchers still existed.
The Circle of Elements stood on a cliff, with four metal torches positioned around it to activate the altar. An ancient, intricate magic circle was carved into the ground, and directly ahead stood a long stone altar, with a few candles still left on it for illumination.
Witt stepped onto the Circle of Elements and took in all of Kaer Morhen amid the distant mist. Mountain winds howled through the gorges and rivers, and swaying pines and cypresses played a melody, adding another touch of tranquility to the Blue Mountains.
If not for his desire to investigate his past and repay Vesemir for raising him, Witt probably would not have chosen to leave this secluded paradise.
If there were no more monsters in this world, there would naturally be no more witchers. When that time came, he hoped the forgotten ones who returned here to await death would not disturb the silence of these mountain forests.
Perhaps that had also been the mages' original intention in founding Kaer Morhen.
"Do you know how to use the Circle of Elements?" Geralt asked, returning from his contemplation of the view.
"Light the four torches representing water, earth, air, and fire in order. Chaos magic will be drawn to the magic circle inscribed with ancient runes and charge the magical items placed on the altar."
"That's right. Go ahead and do it. Let me rest a while. Simple tasks like these should be left to youngsters like you."
Geralt spoke with satisfaction, then sat down on a nearby rock, produced a bottle of liquor from somewhere, and began drinking.
Witt smiled and placed the witcher medallion he carried against his chest on the altar. Then, following the runes inscribed on the metal torches, he used the Igni Sign to light the torches representing the four elements that made up the witcher world, one after another.
If he was merely using the Igni Sign to light a fire rather than set an enemy alight, Witt could now cast it a dozen or more times without exhausting the Chaos magic stored within him.
The moment the torches were lit, Witt "saw" Chaos magic separate into four differently colored elemental powers, slowly flowing into the School of the Wolf medallion on the altar through the burning torches and the magic circle on the ground.
The medallion on Geralt's chest also began to vibrate faintly. This was normal; after all, the medallion vibrated whenever magic appeared.
Witt was full of questions. The effects of Petri's Philter should have worn off long ago, so why could he still see the flow of magic? He could only attribute the answer to the magic circle gathering elemental power beneath his feet.
"All right. Now we just have to wait for the surrounding magic to fully charge the medallion, and you'll be a true witcher, Witt," Geralt said.
Witt nodded but did not reply, because he had sensed further changes in the Chaos magic.
Of the four streams of elemental power, the torrent representing fire was clearly stronger than the other three, and it came mainly from somewhere below the cliff.
"Geralt, I want to go down and take a look. I've noticed an abnormal flow of the fire element." Witt frankly described what he had seen.
"You sensed an anomaly in the elemental power?" Geralt rose from the ground and walked over to the altar. He had visited the Circle of Elements at least seven or eight times over the years and had never discovered anything unusual.
Watching Geralt ponder, Witt said firmly, "Trust me."
"I can't sense anything. Looks like your magical talent is at work. Let's go down and take a look, then. We can't leave a potential danger here. This place is too close to Kaer Morhen."