He needs a thorough detoxification method.
Lann scanned the scattered documents, bottles and jars that were on the lab floor. Using such dangerous creatures to conduct experiments, how could the laboratory not have the corresponding antidote?
Even if there is no antidote, there must be other detoxification methods.
This pile of experimental notes that are enough to reach the ceiling and enough bottles and jars to fill several walls is not something he can review in a few hours. Lann needed more time.
The last skill point, add points - Ability Branch: General - [Gourmet]!
[Gourmet]: Eating food regenerates Vitality for 20 minutes.
With this, if he had enough food, he should be able to have enough time.
Lann glanced at everything in the laboratory, and then he saw Black Wind. The poor horse lay on the ground, with broken bones and bleeding all over its body, unable to get up.
This kind of injury is already fatal to the horse, and it is hard to say whether it can even survive.
Seeing his master staggering over, Black Wind rolled his eyes in joy and wanted to neigh but had no strength and could only snort a few times. It saved Lann more than once today.
Lann looked sadly at the horse that used to run across the battlefield like the wind, stroking its mane gently as he murmured: "I'm sorry, Black Wind."
"But please, hold on a little longer. I'm sure there must be something in Tomas Moreau's notes that can help us. Once I detoxify, I will find a way to help you. Those deadly mutagenic agents will surely come in handy."
"If I don't find a solution, I'll go find Mousesack. He can surely save you."
"Even if you can't run anymore in the future, I'll still take care of you. The stud life isn't so bad, is it? Hang on a little longer, Black Wind, just a little longer."
After saying that, he looked towards Jerome Moreau's cultivation chamber. The metal chamber had been completely destroyed, but the infusion tubes connected behind it were still usable.
These were the nutritional fluids and mutagenic agents that had kept Jerome Moreau alive for over a hundred years without eating or drinking.
Although he knew it would be of little help, Lann reluctantly inserted these tubes into Black Wind's body. These agents were much gentler than those used in animal experiments, and Lann could feel Black Wind's body immediately relax.
"Wait a little longer, Black Wind. It may take me a few days or even weeks. Hold on a little more".
After saying that, Lann stood up, took the axe, walked towards the giant centipede's body, and slashed at it. The centipede's huge body was frozen into an ice sculpture by Jerome's Sign and then shattered into pieces the size of a human head, the thick shell of it becoming extremely fragile.
Lann chewed hard on the ice chips, unable to taste anything due to the numbness caused by the poison.
He couldn't go out and eat humanoid monsters like ghouls and drowners. Fortunately, the centipede cut by the portal was more than a meter long and thicker than a human. It can be eaten for a long time after breaking it into ice cubes.
The rate of decline in health was quickly offset by the recovery speed increased by [Gourmet]. Lann grabbed a knife and cut his swollen black leg, releasing a large amount of poison along with blood.
This time the health value dropped drastically, but eventually the recovery speed and poison damage reached a weak balance, keeping the health value at an alarmingly low value.
The loss of blood made Lann feel dizzy again. He bandaged the wound, vigorously chewed the frozen centipede meat, and began viciously reviewing Tomas Moreau's notes, muttering incoherently. "Come on, Tomas Moreau. I've lost count of how many times we've fought, but this time I'll beat you, I'm sure of it."
...
Toussaint, an unknown lakeside.
Swade's eyes slowly opened, and he felt as if his body was almost falling apart, as if he had been hit by a horse.
He tried to remember what had happened before he fainted, and suddenly sat bolt upright.
"My Lord the Earl!" The attendant shouted loudly.
In front of him stretched a calm and beautiful lake. The surface of the lake is like emerald. In the center of the lake was a small island, surrounded by dense forests, and in the background were tall mountains.
An old voice sounded behind Swade: "There is no earl of yours here... What do you think of this?"
Swade turned around abruptly and saw an old man dressed in a rough brown robe crouching behind him, and a man with white hair and black armor lying unconscious on the ground.
"Mr. Geralt!" Swade said in surprise, stepping forward with concern.
The old man took two steps back and said to the alert Sward: "It seems that he is not your earl anymore... is he your comrade? The injuries are much heavier than yours, but they are not fatal. Don't worry."
Swade hesitated for a moment, then let his guard down and thanked the old man. "I'm sorry to bother you, sir. I guess you saved us, thank you very much. Could you tell me where we are and how I should address you?"
"We are at Lac Célavy, and I am just a nameless hermit." The hermit replied, apparently pleased with Swade's thanks, he pulled something out from behind him. "I take it this is yours too, right?"
Swade looked closely and saw that it was the lion-headed sword that Lann had given him. He couldn't help but feel sad and fell to the ground holding the sword.
The hermit looked at Swade's emotional change and suddenly said: "This is a good sword, and its owner is also a brave warrior. Looking at your clothes, you seem to be a knight?"
Swade knelt on the ground for a while before calming down slightly. At this moment, he just wanted to take Geralt back to Beauclair to find his teammates and search for Lann together. But when faced with his savior's question, Swade made an effort to calm down a little and answer the hermit's question. "I am not a knight, I am just a squire. This is not my sword, this is the sword of my lord the earl."
The hermit nodded in understanding and continued: "A squire can also be a 'knight'. A knight is not just a status, but a symbol of virtue."
"I know of a better sword, hidden at the bottom of this lake, but only someone who combines the five virtues of a knight can take it."
"I have lived near here for a long time, waiting for someone capable of taking the sword to appear. A knight who has Valor, Honor, Compassion, Wisdom and Generosity. Do you want to try it?"
Swade had already checked Geralt's situation at this time and felt that the hermit's words were ridiculous.
He was very grateful to the hermit for saving him, but his comments about the sword in the lake made him feel that the old man was so old that something was wrong with his brain.
"I am not a knight, and I cannot blatantly admit that I have the five virtues of chivalry that you mentioned. I am just an oath-breaker who failed to protect my sworn lord."
"The five virtues of chivalry that you mentioned I have only seen in my Lord Earl, he is a true knight."
Swade carried Geralt behind his back and asked the hermit: "I'm sorry, Mr. Hermit, I need to take my companion back to Beauclair for treatment as soon as possible. Do you know how to get to Beauclair?"
The hermit pointed in a direction: "Even if you walk from here, you are still very far from Beauclair, not to mention carrying someone on your back."
"I have a proposal for you. If you tell me the name of the earl who possesses the five virtues of a knight, I can help you quickly reach Beauclair."
Swade was shocked: "Do you have a bullock cart?"
He looked around but was a little disappointed when he didn't find what he was looking for. But when faced with the hermit's question, he still said sadly: "My lord's name is Lann Lannister, but his life and death are unknown now. I want to return to Beauclair to find my companions just to save it together."
The hermit nodded with satisfaction: "Lan Lannister? Since his life and death are unknown, I just want to do you a favor and let me take a look..."
Have a look? Swade stared at the hermit who seemed to be in a daze in confusion, secretly thinking that the old man who saved his life might have been a man obsessed with chivalry stories when he was young, so that he got dementia in old age.
He no longer hoped for the help of the hermit, and when he was about to carry Geralt on his back, he suddenly heard a loud roar from the lake behind him.
Looking back, he saw that the water on the shore of the lake was slowly rising in a flow contrary to common sense, as if a large hand made of lake water was enveloping the entire lake.
On the small island in the center of the lake, the hermit slowly floated up.
Swade opened his mouth wide, stunned by the scene in front of him. He didn't even notice Geralt slowly sliding off his back to the ground.
He was about to say something about the miraculous scene in front of him, but suddenly he heard the hermit in the center of the lake begin to scream.
The hermit screamed in mid-air in fear. The scream seemed to be distorted and changed from an old male voice to a shrill female voice. And his old body was transformed before Swade's astonished eyes into a naked, green-haired woman.
Swade was stunned and felt as if he had lost the ability to speak. In his mind, all the poems and legends he had heard collided, and only four words resonated in his head: Lady of the Lake
And right after Lady of the Lake revealed her true form, she jumped into the water like a frightened fish.
Swade quickly stepped forward to take a look, but through the crystal clear surface of the lake, only the rocks and sand at the bottom of the lake were visible. Where was Lady of the Lake?
Everything that happened seemed like a dream. Only the soil moistened by the water splashed by the explosion could tell a little bit about what happened here.
Swade staggered into the lake, roaring and shouting: "Lady of the Lake! You just saw the Earl, right?"
"Is he still alive?"
"Tell me!"
"Tell me!"
The squire's screams echoed on the shore of the lake, only the trees could hear them. In the end, his voice became breathy, and he finally knelt on the ground.
...
Jerome Moreau returned to his father's laboratory, and he found Lann unconscious inside.
When Jerome had just forcibly opened a passage outside the laboratory, he discovered that the secret laboratory was actually built beneath a fortress called 'Mont Crane Castle'.
He once visited this place and had a drink with the captain named Augustus Fierabras who was in the fortress at that time. Unfortunately times have changed and now the place has been occupied by a group of gangsters.
Although Jerome is over 200 years old, due to his imprisonment in the underground laboratory, his knowledge of the outside world was still more than 140 years ago. He was surprised by the historical traces of Mont Crane Castle; when the bandits discovered Jerome, the unknown words they spoke further increased Jerome's confusion.
Jerome, who had just woken up, was vulnerable and sensitive. The strong emotional fluctuations awakened the power that had been dormant for more than a hundred years in his body, and at this moment some suppressed talents appeared.
Frost, flames, storms, purple beams, and various forms of energy burst out from the man's body. It was a tyrannical force that far exceeded the Signs, and it did not require the use of magic spells like a mage.
The robbers who spoke arrogantly and had evil intentions paid the price. But Jerome felt at a loss what to do with his own changes.
At this moment, he missed his mentor, his partners, and his home—the headquarters of the Gryphon School, Kaer Seren Castle.
Then, the blue portal opened in front of him.
Jerome was the son of a sorcerer and by nature possessed innate magical talent. The children of sorcerers in this world often succumbed early due to their uncontrollable magical power, but the witcher's mutations could suppress this talent. In a sense, it was thanks to becoming a witcher that Jerome survived.
And now, this talent had awakened again. And it was controllable.
When Jerome stepped through the portal, he arrived at Kaer Seren, which is located in one of the most remote corners of the world.
Before him stretched a ruined site that was once a castle, now long abandoned.
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