The two walked down from the altar, and Geralt took the rope from his waist and tied it to a sturdy stone pillar nearby.
This specially made cowhide rope, soaked in drowner oil, was a product of Aedirnian craftsmanship. It was tough and resistant to wear without losing its elasticity; even ordinary swords and knives struggled to cut through it.
Following what Witt could see, the two descended to a protrusion below the cliff.
Directly beneath the elemental site, a stone platform jutted out from the cliff face. It did not look naturally formed.
Geralt stared at the platform in surprise. He had never imagined there was a hidden spot beneath the Circle of Elements he knew so well.
Near the platform was a cave concealed by thick weeds and vines. The torrent of fire elemental energy originated there.
An impulse stirred in Witt's heart. He extended his left hand and formed the gesture for the Igni Sign. At the same time, the invisible torrent of fire elemental energy in the air dragged the other elemental energies along with it, surging wildly toward him.
Perhaps it was an illusion, but Witt felt as though someone was whispering something in his ear, in a language he had never heard before.
At that moment, the medallion on Geralt's chest began vibrating violently in response to Witt's action.
"Witt, careful! There's mag-"
Before he could finish, a massive dragon of flame, as dense and viscous as lava, erupted from Witt's left hand with terrifying force that threatened to sweep away everything.
Geralt hurriedly threw himself to the ground. He could not see what was happening to Witt; all he could see was fire.
The flames erupted endlessly, seemingly intent on setting the entire world ablaze, but the caster's ability limited the process. After one final roar, the flames gradually died down.
The weeds and vines on the stone platform and within a dozen or so meters of it burned to nothing beneath that roar.
"Witt! Are you all right?"
After the flames had ravaged everything, Geralt hurriedly scrambled up and came to Witt's side, examining the strange changes in him.
Witt's head was drenched in sweat. His right hand gripped his constantly twitching left hand, which was as red as fire. His face was contorted with pain, and he could not utter a single word.
Geralt anxiously looked toward the cave blasted open by the flames. A stone pillar roughly as tall as a person, with a circular opening in it, stood inside. An ancient elven rune representing fire among the four elements floated at the center of the opening, releasing elemental energy that kept his medallion trembling.
"Phew..."
After an unknown length of time, Witt recovered from the pain.
He felt a searing agony in the left hand he had used to cast the Sign, and the Chaos magic within him had been completely drained by that earlier release.
Geralt, who had been examining the Place of Power, saw Witt gradually return to normal and asked with concern, "Are you all right, Witt? What... happened to you just now?"
Witt frowned as he recalled it. "I... I don't know either. I just felt someone saying something in my ear that I couldn't understand, but that sounded very familiar. Then, somehow, I cast the Igni Sign, and afterward... the flames swept over everything, including me..."
"Well..." Geralt, who loathed magic and knew nothing about it, did not know what Witt's words meant.
"...Maybe this was the cause." Geralt pointed at the stone pillar standing inside the cave.
"Is this... a Place of Power?" Witt exclaimed.
"A Place of Power? Was it mentioned in the books at Kaer Morhen?" Geralt asked curiously.
At that question, Witt fell silent for a long time. He racked his brains before finally remembering that a book at Kaer Morhen really did mention Places of Power, then hurriedly blurted out, "It was The Secret Art of Alchemy, by Lunin and Tyls!"
I can't exactly say I learned about it from a game in my previous life!
"Really? You certainly study hard." Geralt scratched his head sheepishly.
"Yes! The book said Places of Power are gathering points for elemental magic. Spellcasters can draw elemental magic from them to strengthen themselves. But no one knows their exact origins. Perhaps they were built by the elves who once ruled the continent."
As Witt spoke, he walked toward the Place of Power, but Geralt stopped him halfway.
"Wait. Let me try first."
Without waiting for Witt's agreement, Geralt walked toward the Place of Power. After casting the Quen Sign on himself, he reached out and slowly, cautiously touched the stone pillar.
In Witt's eyes, a moderately sized wisp of fire elemental energy broke away from the Place of Power and entered Geralt's body through his fingers the instant he touched it.
Geralt felt a warm current travel through his body, driving out the chill within. At the same time, the magic he had expended fighting Old Speartip was replenished, and the mental fatigue caused by toxicity vanished.
An involuntary sigh of pleasure escaped his lips. "Ooh..."
Geralt slowly opened his eyes and moved his body about. Only after he felt no discomfort did he agree to let Witt touch the Place of Power.
Before Witt even touched the Place of Power, merely drawing a little closer, the fire rune on the stone pillar burst into brilliant light.
Watching this, the delight in Geralt's eyes deepened.
"It looks like our School of the Wolf is going to produce someone remarkable."
As the torrent of fire elemental energy poured in, Witt felt his depleted Chaos magic replenish, while his maximum capacity for storing magic increased a little as well.
The burning agony in his left hand also gradually eased, though a faint stinging sensation then appeared in his left forearm.
Witt hurriedly undid the leather straps and removed his gauntlet. A rune glowing fiery red flickered in and out of sight on his forearm, like a tattoo.
He could feel the rune on his arm constantly absorbing Chaos magic from the air for him.
Though it was somewhat slow, this was the first time Witt had sensed the constantly restless fire elemental energy in the air without Petri's Philter.
At present, he could only sense the presence of fire elemental energy within Chaos magic and reach slightly toward that Chaos magic. He still had a very, very long way to go before he could command it at will like a mage.
"Witt, I suppose this was a blessing in disguise for you," Geralt said as he climbed up the rope.
"What about you? You got a huge windfall for nothing. You'd better treat me to drinks in Novigrad, Geralt." Witt pulled on the rope from above.
"Ha! You little rascal. Careful, or I'll tell Vesemir you asked me to take you to a brothel. He'll put you in your place."
Witt looked thoroughly deflated.
"Hahahaha..."
The two returned to the altar at the elemental site and collected the fully charged School of the Wolf medallion.
Looking at the lifelike metal wolf's head, Witt was filled with emotion.
"What are you standing around for? Let's head back. Tomorrow, we'll have Vesemir and the others come take a look at this Place of Power too. I feel like the magic in my body has made a tiny breakthrough. Not bad, not bad. Quite a haul."
Watching Geralt walk ahead, Witt put on the medallion, straightened the wolf's head, and followed.
On the way back, Witt did not encounter the three troll brothers. Old Speartip's corpse and the winter provisions were gone as well. Presumably, the hardworking trolls had carried everything back to their cave to enjoy.
The two retraced their route and returned to Kaer Morhen at dusk.
"Whew... You stink to high heaven again. Witt, did you fall into Old Speartip's shit?" Lambert held his nose as he opened the castle gates.
Eskel came over from the side and said, "Nothing serious happened, did it? Why are you both covered in dirt and ash?"
"That's a long story," Witt said.
"Did you kill Old Speartip? That monster had plenty of witcher blood on his hands." Lambert gritted his teeth.
Witt took Old Speartip's heart from his waist and said, "With Geralt and me working together, of course we dealt with him."
"That damned monster! This is for Wodhe! Pah!" Lambert spat viciously.
Wodhe had been a witcher apprentice in the same cohort as Lambert, and the two had been very close. Unfortunately, he had not survived Old Speartip.
"You're back? Come in and eat." Seeing that Geralt and Witt had returned safely, Vesemir called them all into the dining room.
Over the meal, Witt told the other three about discovering the Place of Power beneath the Circle of Elements and about its effects.
Amid his amazement, Vesemir could not help scolding Geralt and the other two.
"Look at you lot. I tell you to read some books, but you won't listen. You couldn't even recognize a Place of Power when you came across one. The future of our School of the Wolf will have to depend on Witt."
Geralt lowered his head with a smile, while Eskel gave Witt a thumbs-up.
Only Lambert pursed his lips and muttered, "And who was it who lived at Kaer Morhen for a century or two and visited the Circle of Elements at least fifty or sixty times, but still never found it?"
Vesemir's face instantly darkened. "You little bastard! I'm old, not dead. I can hear you!"
"I wasn't talking about you, Vesemir..." Lambert explained feebly, his face stiff.
"It seems someone needs extra training after dinner!"
With that, Vesemir grabbed Lambert and walked out of the main tower.
"Wait! Vesemir, I haven't finished eating!"
"I think you've eaten too much!"
The three exchanged smiles. Accompanied by Lambert's wails, they ate their ordinary potato stew as though it were a sumptuous delicacy.
The next day, Witt slept until noon before getting out of bed.
He had just come downstairs when he saw Vesemir, Lambert, and Eskel coming in from outside.
As Lambert walked, he kept muttering:
"How strange. Usually, those foul-tempered trolls won't let anyone through easily, no matter what you say. Today, not only did they let us pass, they kept saying, 'Good people, good people.'"
Lambert imitated the trolls' strange laugh, making Witt feel that perhaps this fellow had been a troll himself in his previous life.
Seeing Witt approaching, Lambert gave him a bear hug without another word.
"Thanks, Witt! I feel full of energy, enough to party at the Passiflora for three days and nights!"
Eskel then followed Lambert's example and gave Witt a bear hug too, saying with a smile, "Thank you, my brother."
Vesemir looked at Witt and said wistfully, "The boy has grown up."