The scorching sun shone brightly, and the summer insects buzzed incessantly.
Outside, in the small courtyard in front of the house, the lush green lawn had been baked limp by the heat. A gentle breeze blew past, carrying with it the unique laziness and drowsiness of summer, making one want to sleep under the blazing sunlight until dusk.
Of course, the tranquility was further enhanced by the secluded environment and the distant, almost otherworldly, sounds of temple life drifting in from the forest path.
Staring through the window at the sunlit lawn, Allen glanced up at the sun's position and was momentarily taken aback.
Everyone in the temple knew that the witchers of the Wolf School left early and returned late, hunting monsters. No one disturbed them—it was perfectly normal.
The soldiers of the Monster Hunting Regiments were stationed on the "front lines," and after three to four days of clearing, the ghouls and other corpse-feeding creatures had retreated far from Ellander. They wouldn't return from such a distance.
But it was strange that Vesemir and the younger witchers of the Witcher Corps, who were just a few walls away, hadn't woken him up either.
"What's going on?" Allen perked up his ears.
Witchers don't always have their senses fully open, especially their hearing. Otherwise, the sheer noise from worms wriggling, flies buzzing, and birds flapping their wings within a dozen meters would be overwhelming.
Filtering out the noisy cicadas and the rustling leaves in the breeze…
"Hoo—Sss—"
The slow, rhythmic breathing of Vesemir, Erni, Claral, and the others suddenly filled Allen's ears.
More curiously, without careful distinction, the eight of them sounded like a single person. Even their heartbeats seemed to align.
"This… are they training in the Way of the Battle Roar?" Allen raised an eyebrow.
"They accidentally triggered resonance while practicing the battle roar? No… Vesemir isn't part of the Witcher Corps… so it must be an effect of my breakthrough last night…"
It only took him a few seconds to deduce the truth.
After all, since the breathing rhythm and heartbeat pattern matched the training method of Beast Roar: Berserk, there weren't many other possibilities.
He stood still for a few moments, then swiftly leaped out of the house.
His leather boots landed on the lawn without a sound.
Vesemir disliked closing windows when he slept.
After taking a few steps, Allen peered into the open window and saw Vesemir sitting cross-legged on the bed, meditating.
"Hoo—Sss—"
The rhythmic breathing was even clearer now, like a beast slumbering in the forest, ready to pounce at any moment.
As soon as Allen's gaze fell on Vesemir, the witcher master's eyelids visibly twitched.
"That sensitive?" Allen quickly averted his gaze.
Witchers always maintained a degree of vigilance when meditating. The moment they were locked onto by a killing intent or noticed any movement around them, they would instantly awaken.
But Allen had deliberately restrained his steps, even utilizing the stealth techniques of his Level 6 Cat School Dual-Sword Style, and there was no killing intent in his gaze.
Given Vesemir's past level, he shouldn't have been able to detect it.
"Interesting."
Allen's curiosity was piqued, and he activated an appraisal on Vesemir.
[Name: Vesemir]
[Attributes: Strength 66 (+2), Agility 64 (+1), Constitution 79 (+1), Perception 84, Mystery 54]
An increase of four attribute points—not as drastic as Allen's sixteen-point leap overnight, but for Vesemir, it was equivalent to years of hard training.
So…
"Beast Roar: Berserk" doesn't explicitly state that it enhances attributes in the skill panel, but it seems to be trainable after all?"
Or perhaps…
The skill panel's description was correct, and the reason it didn't mention attribute boosts was because they required Beast Roar as a guide.
Hmm…
The latter was more likely and aligned with his understanding of the tribal hierarchy.
From the Beast Roar vision he had experienced, it was clear—
Everyone was receiving the Beast Roar inheritance, but Italiano—the one-eyed serpent giant whom Allen had possessed—was the only one who had to sacrifice the King Behemoth Kanu to gain the true Beast Roar inheritance.
So what had the other one-eyed serpent giant youths inherited?
Battle Roars!
It had to be Battle Roars!
This meant that Battle Roar: Berserk had to be capable of strengthening one's abilities.
"But witchers are different from the tribal one-eyed serpent giants."
"One-eyed serpent giants always return to the tribe, but witchers only gather in Kaer Morhen during winter."
"Even the Witcher Corps members won't always stay by my side. Eventually, they'll lead their own squads and separate…"
Allen frowned at this thought.
To prevent the Beast Roar path from leaking, he only needed to control the source of enlightenment.
Witchers didn't need to be locked into the same hierarchical structure as the one-eyed serpent giant tribe. Other measures would be redundant for him…
Hmm?
Allen suddenly felt someone watching him. Instinctively, he lifted his head—
And met a pair of drowsy, dark-gold, cat-like eyes, still foggy from sleep.
"Allen?" Vesemir blinked, confused. "Why are you… Why are you outside my window, peep—? Uh… Wait, the sun's up! Allen, what time is it?!"
Peeping…
That's what you were about to say, wasn't it…
Allen felt a little awkward.
What could he do?
Reality wasn't a game.
In games, if you maxed out your stealth skill, you could steal right in front of an NPC, and they'd still act like they were blind.
In reality, no matter how high the level of the Cat School dual-sword technique was, it only enhanced body posture and subtle footstep adjustments, turning the ordinary into the extraordinary.
In other words, right now, he looked very much like a Cat School witcher without killing intent.
More precisely, like a thief.
"Ahem~"
Allen cleared his throat and immediately straightened his bent posture, shifting from a sneaky stance to a proper, upright position befitting a young man.
"It's afternoon, Vesemir. Also, you might want to first check your bo—"
"Afternoon?!!"
Vesemir had barely registered the first half of Allen's words when he froze for a moment. Then, pressing his hands on his knees, he attempted to get up.
"Crack!"
A loud sound echoed.
His bare feet sank directly into the gray straw-filled mattress, breaking through the bed frame and hitting the floor beneath.
A four-point attribute increase wasn't massive, but for an average witcher—which essentially meant every witcher except Allen—it required an adjustment period.
Especially since the single point increase in agility sped up his neural reflexes, while the two points in strength created a slight imbalance, much like pouring from a teapot.
The spout might only shift slightly off-center from the cup, but with the increased pouring angle and intensified flow, the result was inevitable—spillage.
"This… this is…"
Vesemir was startled and instinctively tried to pull his leg out.
"Crack~ Crack~"
"Boom!"
The entire bed split clean in half.
Dust filled the air.
Vesemir didn't dare to move. He was still groggy and had no idea why the bed had suddenly become so fragile.
"…The changes in your body," Allen shrugged. "Looks like I spoke too late."
Vesemir glanced at him, then suddenly realized something. Closing his eyes to focus for a moment, he abruptly opened them again, looking at Allen in surprise.
"I've gotten stronger… but why—"
His words suddenly halted, as if he had just remembered something.
Seeing this, Allen pressed further. "What happened last night?"
"You don't know?" Vesemir looked at him in shock. When Allen shook his head, Vesemir thought for a moment before recounting the sudden heart palpitations he had experienced the previous night, the inexplicable beastly roar that echoed in his mind, and the surging blood energy that had stirred within him.
"Allen, was this your doing?"
"Yes," Allen nodded. "Though I didn't expect it to work as a form of guidance like this…"
"By the way, Vesemir, can you still circulate your blood energy the same way you did yesterday?"
"I'll try," Vesemir closed his eyes, then reopened them a moment later and shook his head. "I can, but it doesn't feel as smooth as last night. It was like a stream flowing into the ocean then, but now… it feels like something is missing…"
He furrowed his brows and instinctively reached up to remove his wide-brimmed hat, only to realize that both the hat and his Wolf School Grandmaster armor were nowhere nearby.
Something is missing… Allen mused to himself. It seemed that the battle roar truly couldn't be cultivated alone.
Unnaturally lowering his right hand, Vesemir rested it on the windowsill and looked at Allen, who was also frowning in thought. "Is there… a problem?"
"No problem," Allen shook his head. "But it seems your battle roar may not be able to improve attributes independently from me… Or maybe you just haven't circulated your blood energy for long enough."
"No matter…" Vesemir waved his hand dismissively. "The battle roar is already powerful in combat. The fact that it can also enhance our strength is just an unexpected bonus."
He lifted his gaze, his dark-gold feline eyes carrying an unreadable emotion as he looked at the bearded young man in front of him. It was as if he were seeing the names written in history—Alzur, Cosimo Malaspina.
They had created witchers, developed signs suited for them, and researched the most effective sword techniques for hunting monsters…
And now, battle roars.
Vesemir had a feeling that if battle roars could truly spread throughout the Wolf School, even if only the Berserk variation, their impact would far surpass that of signs for witchers.
Not to mention, Allen had also mentioned Primal Speech and Whisper of Life before. And if sword oils were taken into account, it might not be long before battle roars outnumbered the existing signs.
When that time came…
Would "creation" truly never surpass its "creator"?
"This is incredible."
Vesemir suddenly reached out and vigorously ruffled Allen's hair, praising him. "I think I can already see the Wolf School's next golden age."
"Ahem…"
Allen had been considering Vesemir's words. From a combat standpoint, Berserk was already impressive. The fact that it could only be cultivated in his presence was a mixed blessing, but not necessarily a bad thing. However, Vesemir's sudden and direct praise caught him off guard.
Allen cleared his throat twice and, feeling slightly awkward, changed the subject. "Let's check on Erni and the others. They should have been affected too…"
Still just a kid… Vesemir chuckled to himself as he noticed Allen's slightly evasive gaze, then sighed inwardly.
Without saying more, he vaulted over the windowsill, ready to follow Allen and check on the other witchers.
As a result, Allen and Vesemir ended up staring at each other for a long moment, wide-eyed, neither making a move.
"Uh…" Allen let out an awkward laugh and pointed toward Vesemir's room. "Erni and the others are used to sleeping and meditating with their windows closed, so…"
Vesemir's face darkened. Without a word, he flipped back inside.
Only then did he remember—witchers who had just completed the Trial of the Mountains did indeed have this habit.
Perhaps because, in the ancient sea stronghold, the apprentice dormitory windows had always been open from the Trial of Selection to the Trial of the Mountains…
Always.
--------------------
[Name: Erni]
[Loyalty: 96]
[Attributes: Strength 24 (+7), Agility 20 (+9), Constitution 24 (+9), Perception 19, Mystery 10]
Erni's attribute growth not only far exceeded Vesemir's but also far surpassed Allen's. However, after thinking for a moment, Allen more or less figured out the reason.
How should he put it…
This was actually what normal strength progression should look like.
Just like in novels from his previous life—when two people had the same talent and practiced the same technique, the one with a weaker foundation would experience a much greater improvement compared to someone who was already exceptionally strong.
A regular person using professional 50-meter sprint training techniques might improve their time by a full second in a single day. But a professional athlete, using the same technique, might take months or even years to shave off just 0.1 seconds.
The Witcher's Journal extracted essence, purified spirits, cores, and crystallized energy from various monsters, which, regardless of the user's base attributes, always provided a fixed boost to attributes and elemental affinity. That was what truly defied common sense.
Allen had always suspected that the fundamental essence left behind by these creatures might be supplementing something on a genetic level.
After encountering the limits of his strength today and seeing the system notification about "completing oneself," he was even more convinced of this theory. Otherwise, how could the increase be the same no matter how high the attributes were?
Of course…
It was just a guess.
"Great! Now I have yet another reason to study genetic mutation theory…"
Standing in Clay's room, Allen watched Vesemir, who was bowing and scraping, and thought to himself in boredom.
As for why Vesemir was bowing and to whom…
"I don't know much about witchers, but…" Nenneke, surrounded by priests who had gathered to watch the commotion, frowned in disbelief at the scattered wood chips from the broken beds. "Does the Wolf School have some kind of… special tradition?"
"Like how cursed werewolves always transform on the full moon!" A young girl in a priest apprentice robe, who looked even younger than Allen, excitedly chimed in. "Losing control of their strength and then—bam!—one kick…"
Yes.
If even Vesemir, a witcher master, couldn't control the sudden surge of power upon waking up, how could Erni and Clay possibly manage?
The two witcher masters had certainly tried to prevent disaster, but whether due to bad timing or sheer misfortune…
They only managed to save one bed. The rest of the younger witchers woke up one after another, and naturally…
Six wooden beds were sacrificed.
Nenneke shot the young girl a cold glance, and she immediately shrank back, lowering her head.
"Ahem!" Vesemir, however, had no choice but to clear his throat, his face turning red as he awkwardly explained, "Miss… the 'wolf' in the Wolf School is… is not the same as the 'wolf' in werewolf…"
After an explanation that may or may not have helped, Nenneke arranged for the witchers to get new beds and dismissed the female priests, who had been watching the spectacle with faces flushed from excitement.
Once the commotion outside had settled, Nenneke turned to look at the two witcher masters from the Wolf School.
"Sir Allen, Master Vesemir, there's something I need to discuss with you…"
She paused for a moment, her expression suddenly becoming extremely serious.
"It's about Ban Ard and Kaedwen…"
.....
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