"Oh my God!"
Before Vesemir could fully process what was happening, Triss let out an excited shriek, her voice taking on a childlike glee.
With some effort, the sorceress pulled her foot free from the sea of gold coins. Without missing a beat, she dashed over to Wayne, jumped onto his back, and clung to him like an affectionate cat.
Her voice was brimming with excitement as she whispered into his ear, "Oh my gods! Look at all this gold! I swear, even if we emptied every vault in Vizima, it wouldn't compare to this!"
"You're incredible, Wayne! I don't even know what we're going to do with all this gold!"
While Triss was clearly overjoyed, Vesemir, who had finally collected himself, looked on with concern. His weathered face bore a mixture of disbelief and wariness as he turned to Wayne.
"Child," Vesemir began, his voice measured, "there are more Orens here than I've ever seen in my life. I doubt anyone in Temeria, not even the king, has this much gold in his coffers."
"Can you tell me—where did all this gold come from?"
Wayne gently adjusted Triss from his back into his arms and looked directly at his old mentor. His expression grew serious as he spoke.
"Teacher, I was prepared for this question. I'll explain everything in detail tonight, over a good drink—just you and me."
He gave Vesemir a reassuring smile. "But you can rest easy. I haven't strayed from our path. This gold is no stolen treasure—it's a reward from people I helped. Every task I completed was honorable, worthy of a hero's name."
Vesemir studied his apprentice with a solemn gaze, then gave a slow nod. "I believe you, Wayne. I've always known you were a good lad."
The old witcher gave a weary sigh and ran a hand through his silver hair. "Still, this is... overwhelming. Even in my wildest dreams, I never imagined such wealth. We witchers are used to empty pockets, sometimes even going hungry. Who hasn't dreamed of striking it rich?"
Wayne laughed softly, tightening his embrace around Triss. "That's the trouble with getting old, teacher. People get too comfortable with the way things are and fear change."
"But the world is vast, constantly shifting. We need to keep up with it."
A grin slowly crept across Vesemir's face. "You're not wrong, lad," he admitted, "but don't think you can lecture me just yet."
He gave Wayne a mock glare. "You've been causing quite a stir this past year. One moment, it's armies and giant magical circles spanning miles. Now you've returned with a mountain of gold. How's an old man supposed to keep up with all this?"
Wayne couldn't help but chuckle, though there was a flicker of guilt in his eyes. "I know, teacher. I've been a bit... ambitious." He paused, then added with a sheepish smile, "But I promise—things will settle down. At least for a few years."
He shifted his tone to something more earnest. "You're the heart of our Wolf School, Vesemir. These children will need your wisdom and care. We won't push them like before—only the most talented will move forward. And in the future, I'll bring more children to join us."
"As for the Trial of the Grasses," Wayne continued, "I won't allow it until our sorcerers can ensure a success rate of over ninety percent. There's no rush—our legacy will endure, but it'll take time."
Vesemir gave a slow, thoughtful nod. "There's no need to hurry. As long as we're moving forward, I can wait."
After their visit to the vault of gold, Wayne led Vesemir and Triss back to the main hall of the castle. Instead of cooking himself, Wayne shared some rare delicacies from Middle-earth with everyone.
During the evening, Wayne took the opportunity to catch up on recent developments at Kaer Morhen over the past two months.
First, he learned about the progress of two dryads overseeing the magic vegetable gardens. The first harvest of these enchanted crops had matured, and the oversized vegetables were now stored in massive, low-temperature warehouses. Unlike ordinary produce, these magical vegetables had an extended shelf life and could now be regularly supplied to the giants living in the nearby village.
The village of giants, managed by Berengar, was thriving as well. In just two months, many giant-sized homes had been built, alongside various public facilities. With proper housing in place, the giants were able to take on more labor-intensive tasks, including logging and mining. Raw materials were now being transported continuously to Kaer Morhen, ready to fuel the construction of new expansions for the Witcher Order.
The only thing left was to assemble a team of skilled builders to begin erecting the new structures for the Order's growing community.
Meanwhile, Triss had also made impressive strides in her research. As the Order's chief sorceress, she had delved deeply into the history and procedures of witcher mutations. Her goal was to optimize and improve the mutagenic processes, increasing the success rate for future initiates undergoing the dangerous Trials.
Despite initially claiming her role within the Order was part-time, it was clear that Triss had dedicated herself fully to the cause. Most of her energy was now invested in supporting Wayne's ambitions.
After seeing the enormous reserves of gold earlier, it became evident that her attachment to the Order had grown even stronger. Triss seemed increasingly enamored with her role as the chief sorceress, and the allure of serving as a mere royal advisor elsewhere was losing its appeal.
As the evening wore on, Wayne poured a rare, elven wine into goblets for Vesemir and Triss, raising a toast to their shared accomplishments. Then, after taking a sip, Wayne turned to Triss with a thoughtful expression.
"Triss, I have a proposal," Wayne said, his tone warm but serious.
The red-haired sorceress, slightly tipsy from the wine, looked at Wayne with affection, her green eyes twinkling. "A proposal? Tell me, my love, what brilliant idea do you have this time?"
Wayne smiled, taking her hand in his own. "It's not a grand idea, just a thought. I believe the magical responsibilities within the Order are becoming too burdensome for one person."
He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "I think it's a waste of your talents to handle all these tasks alone. Your abilities should be directed toward something greater."
Wayne leaned closer, his eyes full of affection. "So, I was thinking... How about we establish a new magic academy within the wards of Kaer Morhen? And you, will be its dean."
"Not only can we train skilled sorcerers for our Witcher Order, but we can also recruit suitable allies as teachers or consultants to help share the workload," Wayne said warmly, meeting Triss's gaze as her emerald eyes sparkled with excitement.
Seeing the glimmer of enthusiasm in her expression, Wayne's smile deepened. "With the funds we have now and your mastery over chaotic magic and enchantments, we're more than capable of opening a magic academy of our own."
"There are many children across the world with untapped magical talent," he continued. "We have the means and the knowledge to guide them properly."
He leaned closer, his tone both affectionate and encouraging. "And the best part? You'll name this academy, my love. You'll be its founding headmistress—the one whose name will go down in history as the visionary who created it."