Underwater Breathing…
Alvin slowed his pace.
He checked his surroundings.
The space was cramped, with a triangular dead end ahead.
Small lizards could be seen crawling through the cracks between the stone bricks.
This place lay between Kaer Morhen’s walls and the castle.
It was hidden away, and no one had noticed him.
Install.
Alvin silently willed it.
The empty slot in the Mutagen panel was immediately filled by a white sphere, with the faint silhouette of a Drowner at its center.
In an instant, a tingling numbness spread from his cheeks.
The muscles there seemed to come alive and began to shift.
Alvin touched his face.
His skin felt a little rough, but otherwise no different from usual.
“Phew…”
He let out a quiet breath of relief.
If installing this Drowner Mutagen had made gill-like features appear on his cheeks, it would not be long before he was lying in Kaer Morhen’s laboratory.
Alvin did not linger there.
He went back to running laps along the walls.
As his breathing settled into rhythm, Alvin felt his body become much lighter.
It was the boost from the Drowner Mutagen.
Alvin quietly felt it out.
The overall effect was not large.
At most, it felt like it might shave a few seconds off a one-kilometer sprint.
His gaze moved to the interface.
[Drowner Mutagen (White) x1.
Remaining Drowner Mutagen: 25%.]
[Hint: Upgrading Drowner Mutagen requires Drowner Mutagen x10.]
Alvin was not surprised.
After seeing that he could obtain a value of 125%, he had already considered the possibility that Mutagens could be upgraded.
The speed boost might be small now, but that did not mean it would stay that way.
There was room to grow.
Besides, what he was looking forward to most now were Mutagens dropped by other monsters.
If he could get Mutagens from Basilisks, Wraiths, or even Dragons, who knew how powerful they might be?
After finishing fifteen laps, Alvin washed his face, rested briefly, then walked through the castle gate.
He sniffed lightly, and the scent of rotting wood filled his nose.
At the front left of the hall, a huge beam of light shone in from outside, falling over a pile of collapsed stone bricks.
All of Kaer Morhen had gone unrepaired for a very long time.
“Alvin, over here!”
Paul and the other apprentices were standing not far away.
Alvin quickened his steps slightly.
“Alvin, how did you do that?
Just now, you killed four Drowners all by yourself.
My God!”
Although Paul and the others had been punished with running laps, they had kept watching Alvin the whole time.
That bloody scene had hit them hard.
Horton came straight over and gave Alvin a hug.
“My brother, if it weren’t for you, I’d have been clawed up by the Drowners, just like Brad.”
Alvin briefly returned the hug, then quickly pulled away.
“I was just lucky.
Geralt threw me the Silver Sword.”
Hearing that, Brad silently lowered his head and looked at the bandage wrapped around his right hand.
Aiken crossed his arms.
“I told you.
I clearly saw Geralt throw him the Silver Sword, but none of you believed me.”
“If I had a Silver Sword, I could have done it too.”
At those words, everyone present exchanged glances, and the air gradually grew tense.
Alvin looked at Aiken’s hostile cat-like eyes and simply smiled.
“Aiken is right.
Without the Silver Sword, I really couldn’t have killed those four Drowners.”
The other apprentices froze visibly.
By their usual standards, that was an open provocation.
And when it came to provocation, fists were the only truth.
It would also give the other apprentices something to watch.
Winston, who had been in Alvin’s group earlier, wrinkled his nose and caught the aroma drifting from the kitchen ahead.
“My brothers, use your noses.
That’s bacon.
If you ask me, we should stop talking about Drowners and sit down to enjoy lunch.”
With Winston smoothing things over, Paul immediately raised his hand.
“Exactly.
I want a cup of green juice.
To Alvin, and to our health.”
“To our health.”
Alvin echoed him and walked past Aiken, leaving him standing there with wide eyes and clenched fists.
Alvin looked perfectly relaxed.
He had not taken it to heart at all.
What was the point of an adult soul like him seriously arguing with a rebellious thirteen- or fourteen-year-old child?
They walked to the front right of the hall, where a long wooden table stood.
Its surface was covered in marks, clearly showing its age.
Wooden plates were neatly arranged along one side of the table.
Each held a bowl of vegetable stew, a large serving of bacon and eggs, and bright green juice.
In the middle of the table sat a basket woven from wooden strips, filled with dark bread.
Alvin’s appetite stirred.
Lunch looked fairly good.
Vesemir and Geralt came out of the kitchen.
The food on their plates was the same as the apprentices’, except their green juice had been replaced with wheat beer.
Vesemir and Geralt sat down across from the apprentices.
Once the elder had taken his seat, Alvin and the other apprentices immediately picked up their utensils and began wolfing down their food.
After clearing his plate, Alvin drained the green juice in one gulp.
It had a strong herbal taste, but it was quite refreshing and not hard to drink.
“Master Vesemir, tell us a story.”
Winston spoke while rubbing his stomach.
The other apprentices started clamoring as well.
Vesemir set down his wooden spoon.
“All right.
Listen carefully, then.”
“Is it about monsters?
I want to hear about Royal Wyverns!”
“Basilisks.”
Vesemir said, “No.
A Werewolf.”
Vesemir was undoubtedly a man with rich experience.
He told them a love story about a Werewolf and a country girl, along with knowledge related to Lycanthropy.
The story was strange and full of twists, but its ending was not a happy one.
Both the Werewolf and the country girl lost their lives.
The Werewolf died in a hunt by the King’s hunters.
The country girl was exposed by the villagers, then sent to the stake by the priest and burned alive.
Alvin listened closely.
Geralt brought over another bottle of ale to wet Vesemir’s throat.
As for the apprentices, according to the Witcher’s Code, drinking alcohol before adulthood was strictly forbidden.
“That story was really moving.”
“Tell us another one, Master Vesemir.”
Vesemir tapped his fingers on the table.
“Enough, children.
There is still alchemy class this afternoon.
You should rest.
Don’t let me catch any of you dozing off later.”
The apprentices drew out a strange cry of protest, while Alvin quietly began clearing the dishes.
This atmosphere reminded him of the days he had spent in the countryside as a child.
It felt peaceful and comfortable.
After Alvin and the apprentices finished clearing the table, they returned to the apprentices’ quarters together.
According to the schedule, there was an hour and a half of rest after lunch.
After an entire morning of training, everyone fell asleep almost the moment they lay down on their beds.
Vesemir and Geralt stood at the doorway, the former speaking in a low voice.
“These wolf cubs really never let a man rest easy.”
Geralt said, “Isn’t that exactly what you wanted?
Didn’t you used to complain all the time that there were no apprentices left in Kaer Morhen?”
“Still, the number who passed the Trial of the Grasses this time is indeed a bit high.”
After Geralt finished speaking, both he and Vesemir fell silent.