Chereads / The Witcher: Wolf School's Hunting Notes / Chapter 263 - 264. The Witcher's Epic Advancement.

Chapter 263 - 264. The Witcher's Epic Advancement.

Lysa looked into the witcher's blue, cat-like eyes and suddenly felt a pang of sadness.

In order to hunt down the powerful monsters that threaten humanity, witchers have no choice but to consume potions that cause great harm to their bodies. Yet, despite making such sacrifices, they are still shunned by many humans, targeted by nobles and sorcerers through conspiracies, defamed for certain benefits...

Mutants, monsters, freaks—creatures punished by the gods, creations that defy nature...

Malicious curses compiled by schemers have been treated as jokes by the ignorant, even regarded as truths...

Seeds of contempt and hatred are sown, yet no one knows what kind of flowers they will bloom into.

Ironically, these people are the very ones who benefit from the existence of witchers. As she thought more about it, her mood sank even lower, and she didn't know what to say or do.

After all...

She was just an ordinary priestess at the Temple of Melitele.

Allen noticed that Lysa, after hearing just two sentences from him, was now looking at him with sudden pity. Her eyes were filled with compassion, sympathy, and admiration, as if he were someone terminally ill, still fighting hard for the career of his corrupt boss.

Scratching his head, he wondered where his words had been misunderstood.

After thinking about it for a long time and still not figuring it out, he could only sigh and mutter, "Women are really hard to understand," before changing the topic:

"What's for dinner tonight? When I heard your voice from across the little garden, I've been looking forward to it."

Hearing his words, Lysa remembered why she had come over in the first place. She quickly collected her emotions and smiled: "Tonight's food isn't from the temple cafeteria."

"In the inner city of Ellander, the bearded innkeeper of Big Beard Tavern asked Nenneke to help with a delivery, and I was assisting her nearby..."

"Afterward, I noticed that the tavern's homemade black pepper sausages and raspberry jam bread were quite good, so I brought you a portion..."

As she spoke, she lifted the clean linen cloth covering the basket. The enticing scent of greasy meat and the fresh sweetness of food instantly wafted out, stimulating the appetite.

"Ah," the witcher exaggeratedly took a deep breath, "it looks amazing, I can hardly wait."

Though the food at the shrine was already quite good.

Lysa often brought him food like this, whenever she accompanied Nenneke on her trips for deliveries or healing and found something tasty.

To be honest...

Apart from breakfast, he hadn't eaten much from the temple's cafeteria in quite some time. Even though the food there was also pretty good.

"Hehehe~" Lysa giggled sweetly and handed him the basket. "If you like it, I'll buy you more next time I go out..."

Then, as if suddenly remembering something, she hesitated for a moment before asking awkwardly: "You... could hear my voice from across the little garden?"

The witcher took the basket and nodded with a smile. "Then, did you... did you hear... um... like..."

The young priestess stammered, her cheeks flushing bright red.

"You hum very well," the witcher gave her a thumbs-up, "I didn't expect your voice to be so beautiful..."

Before he could finish his sentence.

The blush quickly spread across the priestess's entire face, even reaching her slender, pale neck. The sight was especially striking against the backdrop of clouds dyed red by the sunset.

"I just remembered there's something I need to do for Nenneke, I should go..."

The young priestess hesitated for two seconds, then quickly turned around.

As if she truly had some world-saving task to handle, she dashed toward the garden in small steps, her robe fluttering as she hurried off.

"The basket?"

"Keep it! I'll get it tomorrow morning..."

-----------------------

After Lysa left, the witcher finished his lunch while it was still hot, then resumed brewing potions.

Apart from enhancing necrophage oil, which required Alchemy Level 4 due to a specialized method for refining regular necrophage oil, the rest of the potions and bombs only needed Alchemy Level 2. So Allen quickly processed the materials and brewed several portions.

However.

Since it was already night, and with many pregnant women at the temple, Allen decided to put away the bombs Moon Dust and Dragon's Dream that he had crafted. He planned to head out into the Mahakam Mountains tomorrow to find a suitable place to test them.

As for the enhanced necrophage oil, he'd need to wait until he encountered necrophages again to test its effectiveness. After all, he wasn't about to go hunting monsters just to test a potion.

Besides, ordinary ghouls probably wouldn't show much difference between regular necrophage oil and the enhanced version.

Of course.

Not everything he brewed was impossible to test...

"The speed at which adrenaline builds up... until the enemy hits you..."

The witcher swirled the dark red potion in his hand, resembling thick blood, and muttered about the effects of AlAlghoul decoction. He hadn't thought much of it before.

But after brewing the decoction, an idea suddenly struck him—it reminded him of the potion Blizzard. That potion also manipulated adrenaline to enter a "bullet time" state.

So...

"What would happen if I drank AlAlghoul decoction first, then Blizzard?"

The witcher was quite curious about this. But due to Blizzard's toxicity, he could only safely drink two bottles in a row.

In general, decoctions were far more toxic than regular potions. So Allen wasn't sure if his body could handle the combined toxicity of both AlAlghoul decoction and Blizzard.

"Haah—"

Taking a deep breath, the witcher gulped down the thick, iron-tasting decoction. As soon as it passed down his throat, he felt like a red-hot iron had branded his throat. The burning pain was almost unbearable.

Next.

The pain traveled down his esophagus and into his stomach. The entire path felt as if molten lava was flowing through him.

"Ugh—"

Allen frowned deeply, letting out a stifled groan. Because the mutagen in AlAlghoul decoction was hard to come by, after brewing one dose in Vengerberg, he hadn't encountered another opportunity to obtain more. So after crafting it, since he hadn't faced much danger, he'd been reluctant to use it.

In fact, he'd considered using it when facing the Archgriffin a few days ago. But to his surprise, the creature fled without even putting up a fight. So this was Allen's first time using a decoction.

And it sure gave him a painful first impression.

Once it reached his stomach, the burning pain eased significantly. However, unlike ordinary potions, this decoction was absorbed very slowly. Allen estimated it would take at least three hours to fully digest.

"So, this decoction's effects should last at least three hours," Allen thought.

The next second.

A wave of heat rushed to the witcher's kidneys, as though soaking both kidneys in a slightly hot spring. It wasn't exactly a pleasant feeling. So, after carefully sensing the changes, the witcher focused. He tried to stimulate his adrenal medulla. In the past, if he wasn't in danger, it would take at least a second to activate this response.

But this time...

The adrenal medulla instantly released adrenaline at a rate half again as much as it had a few hours earlier.

After this surge of adrenaline, the Witcher's breathing visibly quickened, his heart and blood flow accelerated, as if a river was rushing through his veins. The bright blue cat-like pupils not only became perfectly round but even expanded by a quarter.

The Witcher could feel his strength, agility, and reflexes increase by twenty percent. This kind of dramatic improvement had never happened before, even when adrenaline was triggered in the past.

It was hard to tell if this was because the Witcher's body was far more powerful than a regular human's and had been further modified.

In the past, when Allen triggered adrenaline release from his adrenal medulla, it would at most give him a one percent boost. But this time, although only fifty percent more adrenaline was secreted, it was as if he had crossed a threshold, with a sudden leap in enhancement.

"Whoa!"

"Not to mention other effects, just the overall power boost alone makes this AlAlghoul decoction worthy of being called a miracle drug..."

The Witcher was a bit excited.

The best part was that this enhancement effect could last for at least three hours. Next, Allen tested using Signs and the Ice Spike spell. Their power had increased, but this was merely due to the overall attribute boost.

It wasn't like in the game, where after casting a Sign, it consumed a segment of adrenaline, allowing you to instantly cast another Sign.

As for abilities like "Undying" in the game, where when health dropped to 0%, you could immediately consume adrenaline to restore a certain percentage of health...

The Witcher, a bit overwhelmed by the incredible effects of the AlAlghoul decoction, thought about it, cooled down his brain... and didn't dare to test it. Still, even without some of the more cheat-like effects from the game, Allen was satisfied.

A twenty percent boost to overall strength...

For three hours!!!

What more could you ask for?

And the Alghoul decoction's formula was much easier to obtain than other potions that required months to produce a single dose of mutagen. The ghoul marrow Allen had harvested from killing that Ghoul was enough to brew two or three hundred bottles of decoction.

"Wow, the wonders of the world are truly fascinating!"

The Witcher once again experienced the power of adrenaline coursing through his veins and couldn't help but marvel. Back in his previous life, when playing the game, he had never used the AlAlghoul decoction.

He wasn't a pro gamer, after all. Unless he had a significant level advantage, pulling off a flawless kill on a monster wasn't easy.

Who would've thought that after crossing over, the effects of the Alghoul decoction would be this powerful?

Calming his breath, the Witcher pulled out a bottle of Blizzard potion from the vial pouch at his waist.

After a few moments of thought, he also retrieved a bottle of White Honey and placed it nearby. The toxicity of the Alghoul decoction and the Blizzard potion should not have reached his tolerance limit.

However, just to prevent a situation where the toxicity suddenly spiked due to the combination of the two potions, the Witcher kept the White Honey, which could neutralize toxins and cancel potion effects, within easy reach.

Then...

"Gulp~"

The moment the blue potion was swallowed, the Witcher's temples throbbed, feeling like they were about to burst.

Allen couldn't help but let out a muffled groan, but once he got used to it, he could bear it. Soon, the whites around his bright blue cat-like pupils were once again tinted with icy blue.

"It works!"

The Witcher let out a quiet cheer of delight.

He could feel that the Blizzard energy in his mind was about a quarter stronger than the last time he used it. Moreover, with just a thought, the adrenaline surged out.

The "bullet time" state seamlessly activated, and the slowing effect of "time" seemed to have improved from one-twentieth of the original speed to one-twenty-fifth.

"Alghoul decoction and Blizzard potion—what a perfect combination!"

After carefully feeling the effects, the Witcher excitedly recalled the times he had hunted monsters in the past.

Without a doubt.

In this state, he could hunt a Archgriffin on his own without relying on Vesemir and Marie's assistance!

After trying it a few more times, the Blizzard energy faded. But the potion's side effects—the throbbing pain in his temples and brain—didn't disappear. This was a warning from his body that the accumulated toxins were nearing critical levels.

"If only there were abilities in real life that increased toxin tolerance..."

Feeling the slowly metabolizing toxins in his body, the Witcher sighed.

He didn't need any of the other effects from the alchemy path. If he could just unlock the talent to quickly metabolize toxins, the Witcher couldn't even imagine how strong he'd be after drinking all those potions...

At this thought...

He couldn't help but remember Tomas Moreau, who should be in the dungeons of Kaer Morhen.

"Although there's no talent for enhancing toxin resistance in the second mutation skill tree in the game..."

"But from the effects of the Alghoul decoction, it's clear that many of the game's effects will have realistic functionality here..."

"So, the second mutation will undoubtedly enhance the Witcher's toxin resistance in real life..."

"I just don't know when I'll be able to get information on the second mutation from Tomas Moreau..."

--------------------------------

Meanwhile.

On the cliffside by the Pontar River, less than a kilometer from Vergen, by a certain fork in the road...

"Headmaster, the last traces I could find of Thomas Moreau and Macao are here..."

A black-robed sorcerer adorned with stars hesitated for a few seconds before standing up from the ground. A bright silver arrowhead-shaped glow of magic slowly faded into the earth. He respectfully approached the middle-aged sorcerer standing beside him.

The middle-aged sorcerer remained silent, staring at the spot where the arrow had disappeared for a long time. The evening wind howled through the mountains, making his black robe flutter dramatically.

"Someone deliberately erased their tracks," the middle-aged sorcerer said.

It was a statement, not a question. Before the other sorcerer could respond, the middle-aged sorcerer continued his analysis: "They aren't dead, but someone deliberately erased their traces."

"And to do it so cleanly, even you can't divine their whereabouts..."

"It's because my skills aren't refined enough..." The sorcerer humbly bowed.

The middle-aged sorcerer waved his hand, cutting him off: "I'm not blaming you..."

"Covering tracks is always easier than tracking. If even I can't sense any magical disturbances, there's probably no better trace-finding sorcerer on the Northern Continent than you..."

"I'm just puzzled..."

The middle-aged sorcerer paused.

"What puzzles you, Headmaster?" the other sorcerer asked.

"What kind of person would risk offending Ban Ard to attack our people..." The middle-aged sorcerer lowered his head and murmured after two more seconds of contemplation: "The dead are always easier to hide..."

"So what exactly did Tomas Moreau and Makarov discover..."

"That would make someone willing to take such a huge risk to capture them alive?"

....

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265. Blood and Fire.

266. The Consequences of Spreading Rumors About the Wild Hunt.

267. Vesemir's Little Note.

268. Offensive and Defensive Reversal.

269. The Spirit-Summoning Ritual.