Alvin stepped onto the “comb.”
Cold wind whistled past his ears.
He did not sprint right away.
Instead, he first used his cat-like eyes to observe the staggered wooden stakes and murmured to himself.
“There are nine stakes on the left, eleven on the right, and the distances between them are all different…”
Suddenly, his cat-like eyes flashed, as if something had occurred to him.
He had not noticed it while standing below, but now that he was looking down from above, the seemingly chaotic arrangement gradually connected into a single line.
This seemed to match the footwork of the Wolf School Witcher Swordsmanship.
Yes.
Yes, it was exactly the same.
Joy rose in Alvin’s heart.
He adjusted his breathing and leaned forward slightly.
His rear foot suddenly exerted force, and his body shot forward.
Following the memory of last night’s training, every step landed precisely on the next wooden stake.
The Windmill Dummy drew closer and closer.
[Dual Soul] activated.
His cat-like eyes narrowed, and his concentration sharpened to the limit.
The dummy’s claws began to slow, and their path gradually became visible.
He had found the opening.
Alvin locked onto the Magic Stone on the dummy’s chest and thrust his sword out.
Hum.
The blade struck the surface of the Magic Stone, sending out a ring of ripples.
Click, click, click!
A series of mechanical sounds came from the Windmill Dummy.
The wooden rods on its body trembled a few times before being caught by the locking mechanism.
Vesemir looked at the hourglass.
“Eighteen seconds.”
At those words, every apprentice present froze, staring at Alvin in shock.
“Eighteen seconds.
That’s eleven seconds faster than Aiken.
I’m not seeing things, am I?”
“Good gods, when did Alvin get this strong?”
“Right?
Yesterday he killed one, no, five Drowners.
Unbelievable.”
Paul rubbed his eyes and shouted excitedly, “Alvin, well done!”
Aiken, who had still been full of himself a moment ago, widened his eyes when he saw the result.
His lips moved slightly, but he did not know what to say.
Just as Alvin was about to put away his sword, a sharp gust of wind suddenly struck, making every hair on his body stand on end.
The stopped Windmill Dummy suddenly began moving again.
The Magic Stones on its body glowed crimson, and its wooden claws lashed out fiercely.
Alvin hurriedly stepped back and dodged the blow.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!
The wind roared.
No, something was wrong.
Alarm bells rang in Alvin’s mind, and Geralt’s words from the night before surfaced in his thoughts.
“Block!
You must block after dodging!”
He raised his sword.
Thud!
Alvin’s body swayed as a pinewood Pendulum slammed hard into the blade, sending him stumbling.
In a panic, he leaped onto the wooden stake to his left.
The intense feeling of emptiness beneath his rear foot made his heart race like a runaway horse.
He looked down and saw that half his foot was already outside the outer wall.
The mist that had been shrouding the valley had dispersed a great deal, revealing the steep, immeasurable cliff below.
On a branch jutting from the cliff face, he even glimpsed a skeleton.
“Was that a Pendulum?”
“Master Vesemir, Alvin almost fell!”
Paul cried out in alarm, and Horton and the others hurriedly looked toward Vesemir.
Vesemir, however, remained perfectly calm.
At some point, the hourglass that had been in his left hand had been replaced by a wooden button mechanism.
The mechanism was aimed toward the tower above.
The Pendulum that had just swung down had been released from there on a chain.
Pendulum Training.
Vesemir shouted at Alvin, “Don’t just stand there!
Move!”
“Just like before.
Block!”
Hearing him, Alvin turned and leaped, using his sword to knock away the rapidly returning Pendulum.
“Good.
That’s it.
Block, then strike!”
After shouting, Vesemir turned to the white-haired young man beside him.
“Geralt, you taught him real swordplay?”
Geralt nodded.
“According to the Witcher’s Code, his Apprentice Swordsmanship meets the requirements for learning it.”
“You…” Vesemir’s tone held no blame.
“Next time, remember to tell me beforehand.”
Geralt watched Alvin keep dodging on the “comb,” and the corner of his mouth lifted.
Vesemir carefully studied Alvin’s footwork.
“When did you teach him?”
“Last night.
It took him about three hours to grasp the basics.”
“Three hours.
Very good.”
A trace of delight passed through Vesemir’s cat-like eyes.
True geniuses were rare.
He did not expect every apprentice to be like Geralt, a once-in-a-century prodigy.
“If he has that kind of talent, then one Pendulum probably isn’t enough.
Geralt, what do you say we raise the difficulty a little?”
Geralt said, “Of course.
I believe in him.”
After receiving his answer, Vesemir pressed the button on the mechanism with his thumb.
Whoosh!
Amid the apprentices’ cries of alarm, a second Pendulum was sent out from the tower’s transport belt.
It hung from a chain and smashed toward Alvin’s position.
Alvin’s mind was highly focused.
He spun, and the Pendulum whistled past.
Rip!
A searing pain came from his back.
He had barely dodged that one, but the Pendulum had still scraped across his back.
“A Witcher doesn’t only face one enemy.
Underestimating danger will get you killed.”
Vesemir’s voice rang out.
Alvin’s cat-like eyes moved rapidly, locking onto the paths of the two Pendulums.
He raised his sword to block, turned forward, and swung hard, knocking away the incoming second Pendulum.
His body closed in on the Windmill Dummy.
Vesemir decisively pressed the mechanism again.
A third Pendulum entered motion.
Alvin’s pupils shrank in horror.
This time, the Pendulum was not attacking from either side.
It came straight at him from the front.
He was forced to retreat, stepping onto the wooden stake on the right to avoid the frontal attack.
But that sudden disruption to his rhythm left his side exposed, and a Pendulum struck him hard.
“Ugh…”
Alvin grimaced in pain.
His body lost balance for a moment, and he nearly fell from the “comb.”
The apprentices’ cat-like eyes widened one after another.
“By the Plague, a third Pendulum!
Good gods!”
“Damn it, block with your sword!
Go hit that blasted dummy!”
Paul waved his sword and cheered Alvin on, believing he could create a miracle.
Aiken, however, frowned deeply, clenched his fists, shook his head slightly, and muttered.
“A third Pendulum?
How…
how is that possible?”
“No, I don’t believe it.
He’ll fall soon.
He’ll fall into the haystack below the wall and lie in bed for days.”
Geralt looked at the swaying figure on the wooden stakes, caught between three Pendulums, and unease began to rise in his heart.
He drew his training sword and started walking toward Alvin.
But Vesemir moved first, stepping in front of him.
His pale face was stern, his cat-like eyes cold.
“No, Geralt.
Wait a little longer.
This still isn’t his limit.”
Geralt’s cat-like eyes remained fixed on Alvin atop the “comb.”
If Alvin showed even the slightest chance of being knocked off the outer wall and down the cliff, he would rush in to save him at once.
What he did not know was that he was not the only one thinking that way.
Vesemir’s right hand was already resting on his sword hilt.
“Alvin!”
“A Witcher doesn’t rely only on his cat-like eyes.
He has other senses too!”
“Use your hearing.
Even the feel of the wind can help you avoid danger!”
Vesemir’s voice rang out like thunder.
Alvin kept dodging and adjusting his position.
Only after being struck by the Pendulums several more times did he finally find the slightest chance to catch his breath.
Use his other senses.
Alvin forced himself to calm down, thinking over Vesemir’s words, and slowly closed his eyes.
The sound of the wind, the air currents stirred by the Pendulums.
His senses became sharper and sharper.
“You stupid bastard!
I told you to use your other senses, not close your eyes!”
Vesemir cursed loudly.
Alvin suddenly opened his eyes and stepped forward.