The entire tower was ancient, with shattered stones and broken steps everywhere. Most of the items had long since beco ruined and useless, but Victor did not give up. Although he did not know what "Alzur" had researched here, it would not hurt to look. What if there was sothing good?
Alzur, a brilliant madman. This mage from several centuries ago had achievents in biological mutation and magic that no one had matched to this day.
He had once used "Alzur's Double-Cross," a terrifying summoning spell, to create a giant centipede that destroyed half a city. Later, he inherited the research legacy of his ntor, Cosimo Malaspina, and mass-produced witchers.
As for his achievents in magic, one only needed to think of Alzur's Thunder and Alzur's Shield, two imnsely powerful spells nad after him and written into textbooks, to understand his mastery.
Walking through a magic tower where such a person had once lived, the young man's search was cautious and careful, advancing step by step.
Thinking of Alzur's Thunder, Victor sighed in frustration. Mages truly deserved to be considered the first rank of combat power. His first ti witnessing powerful magic had not disappointed in its might. The instant the thunder and lightning flashed into motion, he had almost no room to react!
Then again, maybe not necessarily... perhaps after mutation, he would improve?
But although it troubled him, his mood was not bad. On the contrary, he was rather relaxed. After all, the White Wolf's injuries would soon heal, and so would his own.
Last ti, after successfully killing that fool Albert, even though he had repeatedly warned himself not to be careless, deep down, he had inevitably looked down sowhat on mages as a group. So experiencing a small setback was actually a good thing.
In this encounter, he had learned a great deal. Casually throwing fireballs was still the thod of a beginner mage. Judging from Alzur's Thunder, there were definitely high-speed fireballs or other even more threatening spells.
As expected, the vast space for improvent still existed. It was not yet ti to feel lonely. Cutting down the Professor and Azar would definitely be very enjoyable!
...
So ti later, in the second-floor library, the young man found bookshelves that had been emptied. Two or three remaining manuscripts on them proved how abundant the collection had once been.
The search had been fruitless. Just as Victor was preparing to leave, footsteps sounded behind him. He turned and stared at the other person. It was a witcher.
A steel sword and a silver sword, along with those cat-like pupils. This brown-haired man wore leather armor and kept an appropriate distance from the young man.
He did not speak. He rely looked over the surroundings. Based on Victor's rich experience interacting with witchers, he knew this fellow was using extraordinary senses to gather information.
The eyes saw subtle traces, the nose slled faint scents, and the ears heard indistinct sounds. Combined with a witcher's life experience, these could let them make astonishing deductions like Sherlock Hols.
"I'm not your enemy! Victor Corion, I am Berengar, a witcher of the School of the Wolf. I ca to help Geralt, but the traces of battle outside the tower abruptly ended. In the end, only one set of footprints entered the tower." The man with a headscarf said this.
Victor raised an eyebrow. Azar and the Professor had left through a portal, and so had Geralt and Triss. Indeed, the only footprints that could be traced outside the tower were his.
The explanation was reasonable. However, this witcher before him, who called himself "Berengar," was a gray-listed na in the young man's heart, leaning toward black. Victor strongly suspected that he needed to bear so responsibility for Kaer Morhen being invaded.
...
Many who live may deserve death, while so who died may have deserved life. Can you return life to them? If not, do not rush to decide who should live or die. Even the very wise cannot see the ending of all things.
J. R. R. Tolkien
...
The rain kept falling.
Alzur's Tower, in the ruined first-floor hall, still retained a few functions. For example, a fire could be raised in the center to dry soaked clothing, and two people whose status as friend or foe was hard to distinguish could temporarily reconcile.
Several hours later, Victor and Berengar chatted beside the fire, because this person was not so wicked that life and death had to be decided between them. Perhaps, as soone had once said, even a hateful person had pitiable aspects.
Although Victor did not approve of his actions, the young man also did not feel that he could judge or punish him, especially after he had spent ti with Geralt, had his conscience awakened by Geralt's verbal persuasion, and was now trying to make up for the mistakes he had committed.
The person who had sold out the "side-path" route into Kaer Morhen, as well as the fact that the fortress held the Grass Draught formula, was him. As for why he had done it?
"...Do you know why? Because I wanted to marry, have children, make friends, and live the life of an ordinary person! But my identity as a witcher took that chance away from .
"You aren't a witcher yet. You can't understand the pain of that loneliness. Ten years, twenty years, thirty years, and this foreseeable future may continue for hundreds more!
"Must I live that way until the day I die?
"Victor! I'm unwilling to accept it. I envy you. I envy that you can still choose. People all hate . I swing my sword for them, but when they look at , their eyes are full of fear and contempt...
"I did not beco a witcher willingly... Back then, they tied to an operating table and stripped away everything that made human! Child, tell , at that mont, what difference was there between dear Kaer Morhen and Salamandra's base?"
Victor could not answer his question. Vesemir had indeed ntioned that Berengar had not been willing. He and Lambert were both children sold away by the Law of Surprise.
"Salamandra forced to reveal the formula and sent to undergo simple experints, but I did not resist. They paid generously... and promised they would turn back into a human!"
The young man sighed softly. "Believe , they can't do it. How could you believe they can do sothing even Alzur could not?"
"I had no choice. I wanted to try." The witcher looked dejected and dim.
Lambert had not been willing either, but he adjusted his mood by using his poisonous tongue on others, while Berengar had clearly failed to adapt.
"I talked with Geralt about many things, about the damage Kaer Morhen suffered because of , and about the evil consequences of Salamandra abusing the potions. So now I want to help the White Wolf..."
Listening to his confession, the young man's thoughts drifted elsewhere. He sighed inwardly, as expected of Geralt, the Sword of Destiny of the witcher world. Turning enemies into friends was basic operation, no need to make a fuss.
This witcher was a wordy fellow. If soone was willing to listen to him, he could talk on and on without end. Perhaps he truly was very lonely.
"As far as I know, Salamandra is searching for Alvin. I don't know why, but he is extrely important to them. Perhaps protecting that boy can also ruin their plan..."
The campfire was warm. Listening to Berengar ramble, Victor narrowed his eyes. He had not expected to hear news about Alvin here. Unfortunately, it was temporarily of no use.
...
Several hours later, the wind stopped and the rain cleared. Waving farewell to Berengar, Victor watched his departing back, unable to describe the complicated feelings in his heart.
Before his own mutation, eting such a senior left that man's final advice still ringing in his ears. Berengar had repeatedly and firmly urged the young man not to beco a witcher. He said Victor would definitely regret it in the future, and while he still had a choice, he should leave quickly.
Unfortunately, he did not understand that Victor, who had reconciled with Corion, was already looking forward to cutting people down, cutting down stronger and more wicked people.
Praise be to the thrill of slaughter! Punishing evil with a steel sword was the main objective, and slaying monsters with a silver sword was added value.
Very childish, but very happy!
In life, it was rare to do what one liked!
Turning back into Alzur's Tower, Victor activated the door-sealing chanism and went down to the basent. When he had searched earlier, he had discovered that this place was very hidden. It was no worse than his original plan, and it was closer to Vizima.
He lit an oil lamp, took out sound-absorbing paint, and began painting the walls.
After so ti passed, all six walls had been painted black. Victor then nailed the iron bed to the ground, took out auxiliary equipnt such as handcuffs and shackles, and installed specialized facilities such as guide-tube supports.
He handled the whole process very seriously and carefully. The legendary potion guaranteed success as long as there was no interference from external forces, but if even the injection process failed, the ending would definitely be failure.
Finally, the preparations ca to an end. Victor lay down on the iron bed and took out the Grass Draught. He had painstakingly prepared for two years, and now, at the mont when his long-cherished wish was about to be fulfilled, as he stared at the deep green liquid in the tube, he suddenly rembered last night.
...
On the fold-out sofa, Victor and Shani sat on opposite sides, separated by the distance of a pillow, conducting a discussion on the ethics of life.
The atmosphere was warm and interesting, with a hint of ambiguity, until,
"Give a child," Shani said.
His torso turned to stone. He raised his head and looked at the ceiling. Victor hoped he had misheard, but he was also very clear that there was nothing wrong with his ears.
He silently counted to thirty in his heart. She still did not take back that sentence, so he had no choice but to give up escaping.
The young man turned sideways toward her. "I'm not ready to be a father yet! I like you, but I'm not sure if this is love! Senior, you're joking with , right?"
The lines he had brewed in his heart above all vanished into nothing the instant their eyes t,
My journey is to the sea of stars, but her eyes shine brighter than the stars!
He was left stamring, speechless.
Shani reached out with both hands, gently caressing Victor's face, sliding over the scar from the knife marks across his bridge and cheek, clearly seeing the young man's hesitation and confusion.
Letting go, she smiled sweetly. "I was joking! Did I scare you?"
He stared blankly.
She extended a finger and poked the young man's forehead. "Vic, what kind of expression is that? Don't tell you took it seriously? You want to give birth to your child? In your dreams!"
Finally, the petrification was undone.
The young man scratched his hair and gave an awkward, helpless laugh. "Ahaha! I knew Senior was joking... ah... so funny!"
Noticing Victor's embarrassnt, Shani happily stretched out a foot and kicked him. "All right, all right. Who are you putting on an act for? Take out that hundred-percent-success Grass Draught of yours and let have a look."
After being ssed with, the young man rubbed his nose and handed a tube of Chaos Roar, Reverse-Logic Void, Myriad Phenona, Divine Advent, Heaven-and-Earth Creation, Super Turbo Six-Speed, Never-to-Be-Reprinted Power-Enhanced Version of the Grass Draught to his senior.
Gazing at the deep green in the test tube in her hand, Shani suddenly clenched her fist. "Hey! If I smashed it right now, would you be unable to undergo the trial?"
Victor shook his head. "Sorry, I refined a whole cauldron that day. There are still more than twenty identical tubes in my herbal satchel."
...
He poured the deep green liquid from the test tube into a drip bottle, connected the guide tube and pump, picked up the erald-green decoction, and drank it dry. The young man stuffed in a mouth gag and lay down on the iron bed covered with bearskin.
He cuffed both feet, then cuffed both hands. Lying face-up, able to see only dim candlelight, Victor suddenly thought of Luffy, that man who had cursed him with his life. Judging by things now, his curse could at least be realized halfway. He truly was about to endure several tis that man's pain.
When Luffy had been on the iron bed, hovering near death, the scenery he saw in that mont was exactly like what Victor saw before him now.
The young man's voice was cold and clear. "Listen carefully. You will endure pain for fourteen days. You are very lucky. The trial's success rate is one hundred percent, but as the price, the psychological and physiological torture will both be doubled."
"Chk!" The needle pierced his wrist. The air stirred, and the "legendary Grass Draught" silently entered his blood vessels. Wherever the deep green liquid flowed, it mixed with the red blood into brownish black. Because of the agonizing pain that penetrated into his marrow, the young man suddenly began to convulse and tremble.
He closed his eyes. "I do not pity you, just as I do not pity myself."
Very quickly, Victor lost consciousness, but the intense pain kept him spasming without end.
The legendary Grass Draught would spend six days squeezing out all his potential, making him break through the limits of the human body, then four days combining with the mutagenic substances, and the final four days allowing his body to restore its functions.
...
At the sa ti... in the New World of a certain world.
"Vic! No!!" Ciri scread from her dream and woke in a cold sweat. She had dread that her beloved little brother Victor, whom she regarded as family, was bound by handcuffs and shackles to an iron bed in the dark, gagged and injected with an unknown liquid, his body constantly convulsing and spasming.
Although the image she saw was very blurry, and Victor's appearance had many changes, the most obvious being that he had grown much taller again, she could still recognize that simple, honest face from the four knife scars on it. That was her dearest little brother, and he was trapped in trendous pain!
Pulling over the towel by the bed and wiping away her cold sweat, she knew that her vacation had ended again. Although she had previously gone through countless hardships, broken into the world of the Wild Hunt, rescued the amnesiac Geralt from the palace, sent him back to Kaer Morhen, and successfully escaped here.
But she knew that the Wild Hunt's pursuit had not stopped there. They were still searching for her constantly.
Jumping off the bed, she put on her leather armor and walked out of the tent.
Ciri was now in a world of unknown era. Its weapons were a fusion of the ancient and the future, and the little companion who had taken her in was a beautiful, petite girl nad the Sapphire Star, who was currently by the fire maintaining her weapon.
What she was skilled in using was a greatsword. The problem was that the sword was taller than she was, and its width and weight were even more exaggerated. Although they had spent a long ti together, Ciri still could not understand how they could swing such absurdly heavy equipnt!
It was said that this petite girl had once defeated Nergigante alone, defeated Kushala Daora together with the Sword-and-Shield Ace, hunted Teostra alongside the Huntsman, gone to the Rotten Vale to beat Vaal Hazak senseless, and finally uncovered the truth of the Elder Crossing, successfully killing Xeno'jiiva and returning safely.
In other words, their daily life was dragon-slaying...
"Ciri, looking like that, are you leaving?" Putting down her greatsword and beckoning her Palico to climb onto her shoulder, the Sapphire Star showed a lonely expression.
Carrying her sword Zireael on her back, Ciri stepped forward and hugged the girl tightly. "It's my brother. He is in trendous pain. I don't know what happened to him, but my journey must begin again!"
The Sapphire Star hugged Ciri back. "I understand. Take care. Promise you'll co see again when you have the chance."
Ciri agreed, kissed the Sapphire Star's forehead, and under her worried gaze, once again activated her unreliable crossing, heading toward the next unknown world.
//Check out my P@tre0n for 30 extra chapters //[email protected]/Razeil0810
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