Chapter 125

Bang bang bang! Clang clang clang!

In the training ground, Wayne and Eskel were conducting their daily swordplay training again. The two iron training swords, under their control, constantly collided to spark intense sparks. The sound of metal clashing filled the entire training ground. Two agile figures came and went, fighting inseparably, while the few witchers watching from the side also had different expressions.

Wayne's swordplay followed a fierce and light route; every move was aimed at vital points and was ever-changing, forcing Eskel to concentrate all his spirit to barely defend.

Eskel's swordplay, on the other hand, was open and close; every move and every style was powerful, fast, steady, and had a very wide range.

Even with Wayne's agile skills, he sometimes had to take a few moves head-on to completely avoid them.

Although neither of them used their full strength, gradually, Wayne felt that his attack patterns had been seen through by the opponent, and dealing with them was becoming increasingly strenuous.

Finally, when the iron sword in his hand was slashed continuously until it was almost deformed, he was the first to raise his hand and surrender.

Seeing him raise his hand to surrender, even with Eskel's steady personality, he couldn't help but show a smile.

Since the swordplay training during this period, this young junior had put more and more pressure on him, and he was also afraid that one day he would lose his face as a senior like Lambert.

Fortunately, the large red mutagen was indeed very effective. Since implanting this mutagen, Eskel could clearly feel that his strength and agility were constantly increasing. Currently, it had only been less than a week, and it had already increased by about one-tenth.

Such an increase, for witchers whose bodies would no longer change after they were set, was undoubtedly a very pleasant thing.

Wayne wiped the sweat from his forehead. The stamina consumed by the fight just now, which lasted less than ten minutes, was very serious. However, looking at the witcher senior opposite who was also covered in sweat, he said with a smile:

"It seems the transplant surgery was very successful, Eskel. Congratulations, I can already clearly feel that your strength and speed have increased."

Eskel, who was less articulate, hadn't answered yet, but Lambert, who was watching the battle from the side, couldn't help but shout: "Damn, didn't expect this thing to be so effective. The old man didn't tell me earlier. Every time I finished killing a monster and saw this thing, I was too lazy to even pick it up; it was all wasted."

"Don't know if I've missed such good stuff."

Geralt smiled crookedly upon hearing this and said: "Who told you not to study hard? Among us few, you are the laziest, the least patient, and read the fewest books."

"You might not know yet that besides being able to perform transplant surgeries, mutagens can also be used to brew special decoctions. Although they are highly toxic, they are precious resources that can save lives at certain times."

"Even small and medium ones are very valuable materials. Selling them to sorcerers can also exchange for quite a bit of money."

"When we gather next year, you can sell the mutagens you've collected to me. Don't forget, you already owe me fifty crowns in gambling debts."

Hearing Geralt mention this in front of his junior, Lambert immediately felt that he couldn't save face and shouted loudly:

"Geralt, you didn't forget, did you? Thirteen years ago, when we were executing a contract together in Novigrad, you were detained by a brothel because of debt. Who was it that scraped together money to bail you out?"

"If I hadn't sold my beloved meteorite dagger, I'm afraid you would have had to stay in jail for half a year back then."

"Now, how are you embarrassed to bring up such a small gambling debt in front of me every day?"

Geralt's mouth twitched upon hearing this. The two had agreed not to tell others about this matter back then. He didn't expect Lambert to be so unprincipled and talk about it now.

Wayne laughed out loud. Lambert's mouth could always bring happiness to everyone in unexpected places.

Just as the four were chatting, they suddenly saw an old man with a tall stature, white hair and beard, and wearing what seemed to be a bear-skin coat walk in from outside the gate.

Wayne looked at the man. He was bowing his head, with a bandage tied around one arm. Although he was wearing Wolf School armor, Wayne couldn't recognize who he was at first.

However, Eskel, who had just finished comparing swordplay with him, saw the man and walked around from the side passage, saying: "It's Berengar. He's injured; I have to go see him."

So it was him—Berengar, the one in the Wolf School who hated his witcher identity the most. No wonder Wayne didn't recognize him. In Wayne's memory of staying at Kaer Morhen, he had only seen this man once when he was very young.

If other Wolf School witchers returned to Kaer Morhen for a reunion every year, Berengar was a lone wolf who didn't fit in, always taking the initiative to exclude himself from the group.

Geralt and Lambert also walked down upon seeing this, and together they helped carry Berengar into the castle's great hall.

The old man Vesemir looked at Berengar, who had fallen into a coma, sighed, and said: "I ran into him when I went fishing by the lake."

"He should have also returned here before the heavy snow blocked the mountains, but he didn't return to the castle and instead lived in a cave on the back mountain."

"If it weren't for hearing the sound of him fighting with drowners, we probably wouldn't know even now that he had returned."

Except for Vesemir, among the few, only Eskel was most familiar with Berengar. He took off Berengar's armor and found that not only was his arm wrapped in bandages, but even his lower abdomen was wrapped in a thick layer of bandages.

It might have been because the fight with the drowners caused his wounds to reopen; at this time, fresh blood had already seeped through the bandages.

Geralt's expression was solemn as he looked at Vesemir and asked: "Do you know how he got injured? Did an enemy appear, Vesemir?"

Vesemir took a roll of new bandages and needle and thread from his waist bag, handed them to Eskel, signaled him to help Berengar stitch up the wounds, and then sighed and said: "At first he hadn't fainted yet. It was on the way I sent him back that he lost blood and fainted."

"Actually, it's nothing. He didn't intend to return to the castle this year either, but last month, when he was accepting a contract in a village in the Kingdom of Kaedwen, he fought with an endrega queen and suffered many injuries. As a result, after completing the mission, not only did he not get a reward, but he was also besieged by several farmers with pitchforks."

"The other side had many people, so in order to escape, he fought his way out while injured, and his luggage and equipment were also lost, leaving only a silver sword in his hand."

"However, I don't know why he chose to hide his whereabouts and just stayed in the cave on the back mountain alone, refusing to return to the castle."

The others were somewhat silent upon hearing this. Compared to the united Wolf School witchers, Berengar was undoubtedly an outlier.

He was always alone, didn't like dealing with other witchers, and even if he returned to the castle, he didn't eat with everyone and always stayed in his room silently alone.

Lambert was straightforward and hummed: "Don't you know? This guy hates his witcher identity very much. If it weren't for being afraid of death, he might have committed suicide long ago."

Vesemir glared at Lambert and then turned to look at Wayne, saying:

"Child, go get some hemostatic herbs, and by the way, make some food—meat broth or wheat porridge is best."

"Berengar has been living in a cave alone; his body should be quite weak."

"He should already be unable to withstand the toxicity of Swallow potions."

Wayne nodded upon hearing this and was just about to go get some herbs to treat external injuries when he suddenly thought of something. After thinking for a moment, he still took out the last bottle of intermediate healing potion from the storage bag on his chest, handed it to Vesemir, and said:

"Teacher, use this potion. This is something I got from a druid; it has no toxicity, and the healing effect is quite good."

This wasn't Wayne talking nonsense. Although the healing potion in the druid's hands was completely different from the bottle in his hands, these protectors of nature did indeed have potions that could treat the injuries of ordinary people.

After leaving Kaer Morhen this time, Wayne planned to go to the forest in Wyzima to visit the druid elder Kaenster, ask him for advice on animal taming, and by the way, get some more healing potions from him.

Although witchers didn't need this kind of potion, sometimes, this kind of non-toxic potion was still very useful.

(End of chapter)