Mary, hearing this, suddenly recalled their first meeting—when the little girl, beaten all over by her own father, was covered in bruises. With some sympathy, she gently patted Yennefer's head and softly said: "Allen isn't like that..."
"I know," Yennefer interrupted, "but I just don't want to..."
"I really don't want to..."
Yennefer's voice was small, but there was a stubbornness in her tone. Seeing this, Mary sighed, remained silent for a couple of seconds, then lightly patted Yennefer on the shoulder: "Then continue practicing your spell gestures," she said.
"This is an important step toward mastering magic."
"Without proper control through gestures, the chaotic magic you unleash will ignite your body in an instant..."
After saying this, Mary turned to go back inside to work on making sword oil.
Just then.
"Wait, Sister Mary..." Yennefer suddenly grabbed her hand.
"What's wrong?" Mary turned back, puzzled.
"Are you... are you making Specter Oil?" Yennefer asked in a trembling voice, "On the road here the other day, I was watching all of you closely..."
"I think... I think..."
Yennefer's voice became drier and drier.
But it was as if she had mustered a great deal of courage, and her tone became firm: "I can help too..."
Mary initially wanted to refuse.
During the past few days together, she had noticed that although Yennefer was quiet, she was actually very intelligent and far more mature than her age suggested. These few words weren't simply about wanting to help.
It was more about not wanting to be sent to Kaer Morhen, a place she'd never been. But through the gaps in the black cloth, Mary saw the flicker of fear and stubbornness in those violet eyes. In a fleeting moment, it was as if she saw her younger self.
Her heart softened.
She gently stroked Yennefer's bony back and, with a playful, soft tone, said: "Alright, let's do it together..."
"Show me how much you've secretly learned along the way!"
--------------------
Meanwhile, as soon as Allen returned to the sanctuary, he eagerly gathered the dwarf spirit, white myrtle petals, and the golem heart required for making Blizzard.
After thinking it over, he decided not to set up the cauldron in the sanctum. Instead, he walked down the corridor, stopping near the sanctuary doors, where he placed the cauldron and other necessary materials.
In addition to Blizzard, he also planned to try out the enhanced Necrophage Oil, Dragon's Dream, Moon Dust, and Alghoul Decoction he had formulated yesterday. Decoctions, sword oils, and potions could be made in the sanctum without much issue.
But Dragon's Dream and Moon Dust were explosives, and while their alchemy level requirements were only Level 2, there was always a chance something could go wrong.
To avoid the rumor, "Witcher blows up millennia-old sanctum during May Festival with a single potion," Allen had to find a safe spot.
The hallway near the sanctuary doors was perfect. It was far enough from the sanctum, spacious, with good airflow. Plus, the materials on the ground and the flame wouldn't be affected by natural winds.
Perfect!
"Thud~"
The cauldron was placed on the hard, white marble floor. The Witcher channeled his magic, bending his right index finger and drawing a line beneath the cauldron.
"Fwoosh~"
The alcohol in the glass bottle immediately ignited, casting a wavering blue flame. The difficulty of brewing Blizzard was Level 2, mainly due to the golem heart's preparation and the activation of magic.
It didn't take even half an hour.
As the golem heart melted into the solution of dwarf alcohol and white myrtle petals, a surge of magic suddenly flowed from the melting heart, causing a fierce, frost-like glow to sweep over the cauldron walls, before transforming into a pot of blue liquid.
"Not bad, not bad, that's at least ten servings of Blizzard."
Allen nodded in satisfaction, pouring the contents of the cauldron into the glass bottles he had prepared.
Blizzard was expensive to make.
Dwarf spirit and white myrtle petals were cheap, but a golem heart, which contained both life and soul attributes, was a highly potent material that required several stages of magical refinement, much like Archgriffin decoction. Moreover, this refining method came from the elves, part of the secrets of the Aen Elle.
Of course.
It wasn't that no humans could refine it, but the process was rare and difficult. So rare, in fact, that across the entire Northern Continent, aside from the elves hiding in their corners, only three people could refine a golem heart. And once the golem heart was prepared, creating a golem itself was relatively simple.
That's why a golem heart alone could cost at least 30,000 Orens, more than the price of a Zerrikanian sword.
It was priceless.
After all, just two of them could serve as powerful weapons, capable of defending a high-level mage's secret lab. And except for those found in elven ruins or dungeons, most golem hearts were monopolized by sorcerers, particularly male sorcerers, making them almost impossible for outsiders to obtain.
Of course.
That's for outsiders.
Allen had Vera.
As one of the finest alchemists in the world, and the owner of multiple alchemy workshops, she was a top-tier capitalist...
Among the three alchemists capable of refining golem hearts on the Northern Continent, the Blood Red Fox was one of them. Sometimes Allen suspected that with every snap of her fingers, Vera was somehow accessing a vast "treasury of kings" full of rare magical materials.
"But ten bottles of Blizzard, at 1,000 Orens each, that's not cheap."
"Let's hope it's worth the price..."
The Witcher muttered to himself, picking up one of the Blizzard potions.
Hmm...
"Still cold, even right after brewing..."
He found it amusing, rubbing the frosty surface of the crystal bottle and admiring it for a couple of seconds.
"No wonder it's called Blizzard..."
He opened the sanctuary doors and stepped out into the open grounds. The sky was nearing dusk, the evening breeze gently rustling the trees, and the golden leaves at the treetops were shimmering.
"Gulp~"
The Witcher took a deep breath, then downed the potion in one gulp. The liquid flowed straight down his throat into his stomach, but the icy sensation seemed to shoot up along his spine, all the way to his brain.
In the next second.
The Witcher opened his eyes.
At this moment.
Not only were his pupils blue, but even the whites of his eyes had taken on a translucent, icy-blue hue. The veins around his eyes bulged, pulsing as if they were about to burst.
Feeling the slight swelling in his brain, more intense than drinking three Cat potions in a row, Allen knew...
With his current physique and resistance to toxins, he could only handle two bottles of Blizzard at most.
Of course.
That's assuming he didn't use the White Honey potion to detoxify.
"So... where's my bullet time?"
The witcher glanced around. Although the environment had slowed down slightly, it was still not as effective as when in the monster-hunting state. However, he didn't rush. Instead, he took a second to feel the cold sensation near his eyes gradually fade away.
"Shhh!"
With a swift motion, he pulled out the knife used for handling monster materials from his waist and slashed toward the back of his left hand.
"Buzz~"
Instantly, his adrenal glands on both sides of his waist secreted pheromones, and his brain suddenly became icy cold.
In that moment.
The rustling sound of the wind blowing through the leaves stopped, and the distant golden leaves, illuminated by the setting sun, seemed to freeze in time. But the speed at which the witcher's right hand thrust the knife slowed by less than a tenth.
"Zzz—"
The sharp steel knife barely penetrated a micrometer into the back of his hand before meeting resistance. The force caused it to slip towards his wrist, striking the steel rings on his bracer and sparking. Then, time in the witcher's world returned to normal.
The cold sensation near his eyes seemed to have diminished by about a third.
Allen focused for a second, then raised the knife in his right hand and stabbed his left hand again.
Once again, time stopped abruptly.
Another small cut appeared on the witcher's left hand. After time resumed this time, he didn't stop to think but raised the knife and stabbed again.However, this time, time didn't slow down.
The knife stopped abruptly just as it was about to touch the back of his hand.
"After drinking Blizzard, I'm in a semi-activated state... the energy in my mind... let's just call it Blizzard energy..."
"In this semi-activated state, the Blizzard energy is consumed very slowly..."
"But once danger arises and bullet time is activated, the energy is rapidly depleted..."
"Based on the previous attacks, the energy would only be enough to block three attacks..."
The whites of the witcher's eyes had returned to normal, but the bulging veins at the corners of his eyes, once dark blue, were now slowly fading. However, Allen didn't pay much attention to this.
Instead, he closed his eyes and carefully recalled the process of using Blizzard just now.
"The energy activation isn't so much triggered by the crisis itself but rather by the pheromones secreted by the adrenal medulla, that is, adrenaline..."
"This adrenaline might be uncontrollable for normal people, but with enough training, witchers, through their mutated organs, can certainly control the activation of bullet time..."
"If someone were a bit more talented, or trained for even longer..."
"They could even control the production speed of adrenaline and manage the duration of each bullet time, allowing them to enter bullet time multiple times in critical moments..."
"And after entering bullet time, the time in the surroundings slows down to at least one-twentieth of its original speed..."
"Wait a minute..."
The witcher looked down, recalling something.
"The slowing down of time in the environment may not be fixed; it's probably related to one's perception attributes..."
"These next few days, I should give Vesemir a bottle to try, so we can compare..."
"But if it's true that as attributes increase, the bullet time effect also strengthens..."
The witcher swallowed nervously.
"That would be incredibly powerful!"
Especially for Allen.
Both the Ice Spear Spell and Monster Hunt would receive significant boosts from this potion. With this potion, his overall strength could increase by at least half.
"No wonder this potion was considered central to various witcher schools in my previous life. Whether for survival or attack, its effects are unparalleled."
After pondering for a while how to integrate the Blizzard potion with his abilities and combat system, the witcher was about to return to the sanctuary corridor to continue brewing the remaining potions.
Just then.
Allen's ears twitched, and he turned his head toward the garden.
"...There was a girl born into the royal family, the most beautiful among them..."
"...Every night, she wakes up in a stone castle, sleeping alone..."
"...No sound, not even the dead, could awaken this sleeping beauty..."
"...Until a stranger came from a distant land..."
-------------------
Lysa was skipping lightly through the garden, carrying a basket covered with a checkered cloth, softly humming a soothing tune. The witcher stopped in his tracks when he saw this, a small smile curling at the corners of his mouth: "I never expected the usually mature and dignified Lysa to have such a girlish side..."
After a pause, he suddenly remembered that Lysa seemed to be only sixteen years old now, indeed still a girl.
This thought brought her background to mind, and he sighed softly.
"Allen!!!" A surprised voice called out from afar, breaking his train of thought, "What are you doing here?"
The witcher looked up.
Lysa stood at the entrance to the garden, one hand holding the basket, the other covering her mouth in astonishment.
It seemed she had just noticed Allen.
Before the witcher could speak, the young priestess took several quick steps toward the sanctuary, then stared intently at his face, asking in a worried voice: "Allen, what happened to your face?"
"It's nothing..." the witcher waved his hand, "I just finished experimenting with the effects of a potion..."
Seeing the concern on the young priestess's face hadn't lessened, he thought for a moment and explained further: "Most of the potions witchers use are like this. It may look scary now, but after it metabolizes for a bit, it will go away naturally."
"Really?" Lysa still didn't seem fully convinced.
The deep blue veins spreading across the corners of the witcher's eyes and his pale blue, corpse-like complexion...
It made him look like an evil knight possessed by a demon.
Seeing he couldn't explain it clearly, Allen simply took out a bottle of "White Honey" from his potion bag and drank it down with a gulp.
Within seconds.
The bulging veins on the witcher's face quickly faded, and his complexion gradually returned to normal.
At this point.
The worry on the young priestess's face hadn't completely disappeared. She looked back and forth between the corners of his eyes and the empty potion bottle in his hand, then hesitated for a moment before softly advising: "Allen, the priests who teach herbalism and medicine at the temple always say..."
"Any potion that can enhance physical strength, power, or agility in a short time is harmful to the body..."
"If it's not necessary, you should try... try not to use them too much..."
"It's fine." Allen smiled warmly.
"But how could you say it's fine after what you looked like just now?" The young priestess, growing anxious, shook the basket and unconsciously took a step closer.
Who among the temple priests would think he was fine after seeing what he looked like just moments ago?
"It really is fine," the witcher replied, catching the sudden scent of carnations in the air. As the young priestess stepped closer and raised her voice, he instinctively stepped back half a step, explaining hurriedly: "I'm a witcher, not human."
"The toxins in the potions will quickly metabolize."
Lysa froze when she heard that.
"I'm a witcher, not human…"
A witcher… isn't human?
....
📢20 advanced chapters on p@treaon📢
For advance chapters: p@treon.com/Uchiha_Itachi007 (replace @ with a)
264. The Witcher's Epic Advancement.
265. Blood and Fire.
266. The Consequences of Spreading Rumors About the Wild Hunt.
267. Vesemir's Little Note.
268. Offensive and Defensive Reversal.