Alvin made his way to the second floor of Kaer Morhen.
The second floor was much smaller than the first-floor hall.
A deep, dim corridor ran through the middle, with rows of separate rooms on either side.
Only full-fledged witchers were allowed to live in these rooms.
Apprentices like Alvin had to squeeze into the apprentice quarters on the first floor with everyone else.
Up the spiral staircase, second room on the left.
Alvin remembered the location Lady Vries had mentioned yesterday.
When he reached the door, he stopped.
He had a strange, hard-to-describe feeling about Lady Vries.
Between his own instincts and the odd behavior Paul and the others had shown at dinner yesterday, the herbalist nun Vries seemed wrapped in a veil of mystery.
After thinking for a moment, he still raised his hand and knocked on the wooden door.
After all, based on what he knew of Vesemir, the man was fiercely protective of his own.
If Vesemir knew Lady Vries posed any danger, he would never have let Alvin come here so rashly.
“Come in.”
A clear female voice came from inside, and Alvin pushed open the wooden door.
A faint, crisp scent of Chamomile drifted out of the room.
Alvin’s pupils widened.
The furnishings inside were neat and complete, entirely different from the ruined state of Kaer Morhen.
A red wooden desk faced the door.
The herbalist nun Vries sat upright in the chair behind it.
She set down the quill in her hand and lifted her head slightly.
Even indoors, she wore the white hood that symbolized a Priestess of Melitele, revealing only two soft locks of black hair.
On the desk beside her, parchment, leather scrolls, and books were arranged in perfect order.
She adjusted her cuffs, then folded her hands naturally.
Together with the arrangement of the desk, it gave her a quiet, commanding presence.
“Alvin?” A faint smile touched her lips.
“Good afternoon.
Is today’s training over?”
Alvin came back to himself and immediately bent in an apprentice’s salute.
“Good afternoon, Lady Vries.
Yes, training is over.”
“As agreed, is there anything here that needs my help?”
The herbalist nun’s tone softened when she heard that.
She raised a finger and pointed to the left.
“There’s a box of newly arrived herbs under that shelf.
I haven’t had time to sort them yet.
They’re all very basic, so give it a try.”
“Of course.”
Alvin was delighted.
Experience points, here I come!
Following the direction of the herbalist nun’s finger, he also took the chance to look around her room.
The room was arranged with great order.
The red-trimmed carpet was spotless, and rows of shelves held countless mysterious tools.
Of course, what drew Alvin’s eye most were the two rows of books that filled an entire bookcase.
In this world so much like the Middle Ages, books represented knowledge, and were unquestionably precious.
The herbalist nun Vries looked at him and chuckled softly.
“Heh, it seems my little assistant is very interested in my collection.”
“Have you read any of them?”
Alvin pointed at one.
“Bestiary.
Master Vesemir mentioned it when he taught us the monster class.”
“Mm.
That is a required course for witchers, as it should be.”
“And this is…” Alvin looked at an entire row of matching red volumes.
“The History of the World, by Roderick de Novembre.
Lady Vries, is this the complete set?”
“Of course.”
Alvin was inwardly surprised.
The History of the World was extremely rare.
Even Kaer Morhen’s library only had an incomplete copy.
His gaze moved across the shelves.
The Invisible World, Speculum Aureum… These were all books he had never read before.
Suddenly, he noticed a book whose cover was marked with a line of crooked characters.
It was not the Common Speech he knew.
“Ard Aercane.
That is Elder Speech, the writing of the Elves.”
Alvin understood and opened his mouth, about to ask what it meant.
Vries clapped her hands, cutting him off.
“All right, enough idle talk.
In this world, there is no reward without payment.
You should understand what I mean.”
Alvin smiled helplessly.
He understood what Vries meant, and he agreed with it completely.
Knowledge had a price.
The more advanced the knowledge, the higher the price.
And his way of paying was sorting herbs.
He quickly walked to the spot Vries had just pointed out.
Above the shelf were drawer cabinets, their fronts engraved with labels marking the categories of different herbs.
Beneath the shelf was a wooden crate three feet wide.
A faint herbal fragrance came from inside the crate.
Alvin bent slightly, and a tearing pain ran through his back, making him frown.
But an injury like that was not enough to stop him.
“Wait!”
Vries suddenly stood and walked toward Alvin.
There was a trace of anger in her voice, leaving Alvin confused.
“Take off your clothes.”
“Lady Vries?”
“This is not a discussion.
It is an order.”
Alvin hesitated for a moment, then slowly removed his shirt.
Vries looked at his upper body.
Bruises covered his skin.
The marks on his back were especially obvious, several red streaks of blood that looked startlingly severe.
Vries could not help drawing in a sharp breath.
“Where did these wounds come from?”
Alvin looked at Vries.
The mist beneath her hood had parted slightly, revealing a pair of ink-black eyes filled with anger.
Her presence was frighteningly intense.
Alvin answered honestly, “They’re from training over the past few days.”
“Training?” Vries lifted Alvin’s arm and could not help cursing.
“Those madmen!
You are still a child.
How could they do this to you?”
“I swear the mutation has twisted their brains along with the rest of them.
Those damned fools, nothing in their heads but killing.”
Alvin froze.
He had never expected Vries to be angry over this.
“It has to be forbidden.
This experiment must be forbidden!”
Vries roared.
“Lady Vries…” Seeing how agitated she was, Alvin hurriedly said, “I think you’ve misunderstood.
These are from my special training over the past two days.”
“What special training?”
“Uh… Windmill Training, and more advanced swordsmanship training.”
“Master Vesemir said it’s better to sweat more during training than bleed when fighting monsters.”
After hearing this, Vries’s terrifying aura subsided a little.
She thought for a moment.
“I never expected you witchers to say anything so sensible.
I thought you were all muscle-bound, simple-minded brutes.”
With that, she first took a clean pair of linen gloves from the side and put them on.
Then she stood on tiptoe, pulled out a drawer from the top of the shelf, and took out a small piece of green ointment.
A strong herbal scent filled Alvin’s nose.
“I already applied medicine before I came,” Alvin said.
“Hmph.” Vries glanced at the greasy-looking stuff smeared over his wounds.
“Don’t even mention that thing you dug out of a rubbish heap.”
“Spread your arms and stand properly.”