Eilin averted his gaze from Vesemir's penetrating look, feigning interest in the intricate patterns adorning Elsa's sheath.
He studied the designs as if they contained the universal truths of existence.
Vesemir, sensing the tension in the air, sighed as he turned his attention to the future of the Wolf School.
Platinum, deep crimson, emerald green.
Three pairs of round, cat-like eyes focused intently on Vesemir's face.
Didn't the school say that apprentices shouldn't have to dig into their own pockets for lessons? Vesemir thought grimly.
The chances of a second apprentice wielding a steel sword to defeat a water wraith were nearly nonexistent.
But what if?
He had no spare "Elsa" to give away.
As for breaking promises?
Witchers of the Cat School would never stoop so low!
Before he could devise a plan, the Chief spoke up.
"Absolutely!"
"As long as you all defeat a water wraith with steel swords, my silver sword shall belong to you."
"But that's only one sword," Shus chimed in innocently. "What about the three of us?"
The Chief chuckled, "Naturally, it will belong to whoever strikes the killing blow first."
Before Shus could ask further, the other apprentices crowded forward, eager to take their chance.
Vesemir sighed in relief, his heart lightening as he nodded gratefully to the Chief, quickly organizing the lineup.
If it hadn't been for the Chief's intervention, he might have been forced to draw Letho's silver sword in frustration.
With the commotion subsided, the practical class resumed its course.
Seeing the focus shift back to the training grounds, Eilin exhaled, silently commanding: "Panel."
A translucent panel unfurled before him, displaying a series of system messages.
As he glanced over the reward summary, a familiar sensation washed over him—just like the end-of-level recap from a game.
Materials, experience orbs, treasure chests—it all bore the hallmarks of a mundane title.
Lost in memories of his past life, Eilin sighed.
Though the grind of corporate life was tiring, at least it was safe.
In the world of Witchers, who could predict what tomorrow might bring?
Monsters?
A sorceress?
Or perhaps a pitchfork stabbed from behind?
A chill ran through him as he drew his focus back to the panel.
While he couldn't decipher how the Monster Hunting Log assessed the water wraith's level, the reward summary provided a glimpse into the evaluation of a monster hunt.
It began with the outcome of the kill, assigning a base rating.
Then, it would score based on the monster's level compared to Eilin's, the method of kill, and the task completion.
The number of rewards was tied to the overall rating.
Yet, what in the world was the essence of a water wraith's heart?
"What to do with that?"
The system popped up a prompt: "Do you wish to use the 'Essence of the Water Wraith's Heart'?"
Eilin blinked, confusion clouding his thoughts.
Can I use it directly?
With a hesitant pause, he decided to go for it.
Instantly, the icy liquid coursed down his throat, flowing into his stomach, igniting a warm surge that spread through his veins.
The exhaustion from the battle vanished in an instant—his body felt as if it had returned to its prime.
No, it felt even better than before.
With renewed energy, he opened his character panel.
[Name: Eilin]
[Age: 13]
[Title: Child of Miracles]
[Level: 1]
[Health: 94% | Stamina: 54/54]
[Attributes: Strength 5.2 (+0.1), Agility 5.3, Constitution 5.4 (+0.2), Perception 6.9, Mystique 3.1]
[Special Skills: Monster Hunting LV1, Appraisal LV1]
[Technique: Wolf School Two-Handed Sword LV1 (0/100)]
[Evaluation: Useless!!!]
"Hmm!!!"
Both strength and constitution saw increases!
Eilin glanced again, confirming the boosts weren't illusions.
Though only a 0.3 rise, the water wraith was one of the most common monsters in this world.
Every Witcher encountered them regularly; most first contracts involved slaying these wretched beasts.
A single water wraith increasing by 0.3 attributes meant ten would give him three points.
And in this world, there were countless water wraiths.
Killing twenty or thirty wouldn't present much of a challenge, would it?
But the thought of the mountain trial doused Eilin's excitement like cold water, quickly sobering him.
An apprentice bound to Kaer Morhen couldn't venture out—what good were the water wraiths roaming the world?
Yet the tangible boost to his attributes offered a glimmer of hope amid the threat of death lurking in the mountain trial.
He continued sifting through the rewards.
To Eilin's dismay, he noticed that his Wolf School Two-Handed Sword skill hadn't gained any experience.
Was it because he hadn't utilized it long enough, or was it strictly through experience orbs?
The Monster Hunting Log remained silent.
Of course, he mused, the original owner had trained for nearly a decade in two-handed swordplay to reach LV1.
In that brief time, how could there be any significant change?
After a moment's thought, Eilin decided not to dwell on it but rather to reap the rest of his rewards.
After using all ten minor experience orbs, he watched in awe as his Wolf School Two-Handed Sword skill leveled up.
His muscles twitched as new knowledge flooded his mind.
In a fleeting moment,
it felt as if Eilin had spent two years training under a master Witcher's guidance, coupled with an additional year of real combat experience.
His entire body now moved with improved coordination and efficiency.
Simultaneously, his character level also rose.
"Ah!"
A cry of dismay shattered Eilin's moment of triumph.
He raised his head to find a steel sword lying quietly on the ground.
The first apprentice had fallen in the encounter.
Letho, his expression unreadable, walked toward Eilin with the defeated apprentice in tow.
Dust smeared across the latter's face, a mix of disbelief and frustration etched into his features, while his right arm dangled limply, likely dislocated.
"Eilin," Shus said, nervously fidgeting with a small stone on the ground, "How did you do that?"
As Eilin prepared to conjure up a clever excuse, Vesemir called out:
"Next, Bont!"
Following the voice, Eilin noticed Vesemir toying with the water wraith.
Indeed, it was sheer mockery.
He hadn't even unsheathed his steel sword; Vesemir dodged the water wraith's attacks, effortlessly keeping the creature's attention fixed on him.
What a master Witcher indeed, Eilin thought.
Then, an idea struck him, and he decided to assess Vesemir.
[Name: Vesemir]
[Attributes: Strength 46, Agility 57, Constitution 65, Perception 70, Mystique 41]
What sort of monster was this, so terrifyingly powerful?
Eilin couldn't help but gasp.
With a minimum strength score of 46, he outstripped Eilin ninefold.
To put that into perspective, while "Eilin" was just 13 years old, his physique had reached the level of an average adult after the herbal trial, even surpassing the resilient physique of his former self—a corporate worker who often burned the midnight oil and hit the bottle.
In wonder, Eilin used the skill to scan a few more Witchers.
[Name: Letho]
[Attributes: Strength 28, Agility 34, Constitution 57, Perception 61, Mystique 15]
Most adult Witchers had attributes similar to Letho's.
Even the weakest among them had a strength score above twenty.
Were Witchers in the game really this powerful? Eilin pondered.
With such formidable attributes, how could any Witcher succumb to a farmer's pitchfork?