Sight to Behold.

—

[The Howling Wolf Inn, Aard Morhen. Night.]

Looking at the Semi-Witcher in front of him, William asks, "So the famous White Wolf is already on the Path, yeah, sir?"

Nodding, the person affirms while taking a sip of his treated Skyrim mead, "Yes. I don't know where my mentor is, but the last time I greeted him, Geralt was traveling with a black-haired sorceress and our dear little Witcher wannabe, Ciri."

Pretending to be confused, William continues the question, "Does the sorceress smell like lilacs and gooseberries?"

Raising his eyebrows, the person asks, "How did you know that?"

Taking a sip of his own mead, William answers, "Well, my senior in Oxenfurt with the stage name Dandelion has a lot of poems and theatrical performances about that person and the White Wolf. So, I know a little bit about them."

Seemingly remembering something, William chuckles and continues, "Like in the stage play 'Throes of Death, Raven Lady's Djinn Taming.' In those tales, my senior told me how he almost lost his life because of that sorceress that smelled like that."

Shaking his head, the Semi-Witcher exclaimed, "They only smelled nice. But their hearts? Yeah, absolutely not."

Chuckling, William expresses, "It seems, sir, you also have a fair share of experience."

Having goosebumps, the person simply said, "Yes. I almost got cooked alive by that tomato, Triss Merigold."

Laughing, William consoles, "My condolences."

Drinking the mead while taking his time to contemplate the information, William is now sure that the white hair duo has already started their journey. Judging from his statement earlier about the last time of greeting Geralt, which he guesses in Neneke temple at that time, he deduces that Ciri is probably already in Aretuza, training to control her Elder Blood.

Knowing there is news about the Cintra rebellion, which indicates the start of the second Nilfgaardian invasion, William can draw the conclusion that this is the year when the Thanedd Coup is happening. An event that will later become one of the factors leading to the destruction of Aretuza and become the catalyst for hunting the sorcerers and sorceresses alike.

Finishing his own mead, William suddenly asks a different question that is not related to the white hair duo, wanting to know exactly when the Thanedd Coup is happening, "Sir, do you happen to know when this year's Aretuza banquet started?"

Raising his eyebrows at the unexpected question, the person decided just to answer, "Well, from what I know from our school mages that have been invited, they will start this week at the very least."

Shaking his head, pretending to be jealous, William exclaims, "What a snobbish sorcerer. Establishing a banquet every year, like some kind of noble."

"Well, they kind of are."

"Sigh. You are right."

"..."

After a couple of minutes pass in silence, William gets up and extends his hand, saying, "Anyway, thank you for your time and the story, sir. It helps me a lot to make my own stage play later about the White Wolf."

Smiling, the Semi-Witcher receives the hand and says, "No, no problem. It is good for our school also. Maybe if your theatrical play on Skyrim is a success, I will not have to spend extra effort taking the contract."

Laughing, William says his goodbye, "Hahahahah, surely. I will wait for you on the Skyrim continent, sir. Have a safe Path on your journey."

"You too, young one."

—

[Ship to Skyrim. Past Midnight.]

Playing with his apple while lying down in the cabin, William's line of thinking couldn't help but be drawn to a conversation from weeks prior, when he was talking with the Semi-Witcher. A Witcher who underwent a modified Trial of Grasses that has a very low mortality rate.

A modified Trial of Grasses that only takes into account the quantity result of the "superhuman soldiers," if by the standard of Northern Kingdoms. In which, they have inferior strength and senses compared to a normal Witcher but also have significant drawbacks that reduce their lifespan to only 40 years old.

Not only that, coupled with the inability to use Sign Magic, anyone who undergoes that trial is essentially made into cannon fodder on the battlefield. Because of that, he is very reluctant to take that path to get stronger, even though he knows the Semi-Witcher Trail can be undertaken even if a person is a bit older.

But it seems that this is enough of a deterrent for the Aldmeri Dominion and the fragile Septim Empire at that time. When each, the Northern Kingdoms and the Imperial, discovered a new neighboring continent that suddenly appeared. Specifically, when Titus Mede II ascends to the throne and The Empire becomes embroiled with all kinds of natural disasters.

Because of that, he never even considered wanting to become a Semi-Witcher when he was still a child. Knowing that there are still better options out there, like becoming a Magicka Mage or a master of Thu'um, where everyone can learn it with hard work and practice.

Thinking about the Thu'um, William gets up and searches his personal notebooks in his bag. Opening to the specific pages where he wrote down every Dragon Language that he can remember, he decides to try again, as he has been attempting to do since the day he became aware of the mixed franchise.

"Laas, Yah, Nir."

"..."

Seeing that there is no response when he casually shouts, he then tries with the shouting intonation, "Laas, Yah, Nir!"

Still no response, he then tries the Dragon Shout one word at a time.

"Laas!"

"Yah!"

"Ni-"

Bang, Bang!

"Hey! Could you please quiet down?! I'm trying to sleep here!"

Coughing in embarrassment upon realizing his unfruitful efforts were making his neighboring cabin furious, William decided to close the notebook and call it a day. It became apparent that without someone guiding him on how to channel the Thu'um, like Paarthurnax teaching the first human how to use the Voice, or like the Dragonborn in the franchise learning through inscribed walls, or even like the Greybeards who can share and absorb each other's knowledge to master specific words, his attempts were futile.

Tucking the blanket over himself, he just hopes that he will be successful in his gamble, in which he becomes a Magicka Mage of Winterhold College graduate or a Master of Thu'um guided by the Greybeards. If not, it will become more problematic for him to survive the apocalypse brought by Alduin or the Wild Hunt later.

Thinking about the two main villains that he needs to consider, coupled with the unknown threats that he surely deduces will keep piling up, William lets out a long breath.

"Sigh. What a drag..."

—

[Sea of Ghost, Dawnstar Coast. Dusk.]

It's already been one and a half months since his departure from the Kaedweni province, and now William finally arrives on the new continent. Now he especially feels the signature Skyrim chilly air that penetrates through his skin, the cold that confirms every piece of knowledge he has about this continent.

The cold that makes everyone tremble just by being in the open air. He himself needs to wear three inner shirts plus a mantle just so that he is not shivering in frostbite. And thinking that he will likely be spending years to come on this continent is already giving him a headache.

Sighing for not much he can do about that fact, William then starts packing his belongings, seeing the harbor in the distance through the window of the cabin. Finishing packing, he then brings up the huge sea chest with all of his things inside, including money, up onto the deck.

While walking on the deck with his sea chest and looking into the distance Dawnstar, William couldn't help but whistle in admiration, "Damn. The game doesn't do enough justice."

About 50,000 meters in length, the city harbor stretches from one horizon to the next. Not only that, the variety of ships coming and going is a sight to behold. He can count about a hundred ships currently anchoring in the dock, not counting the ones that have already set sail.

And the fact that it is already nightfall, where people have started to ignite their lanterns, makes the sight more serene, like walking straight into Van Gogh's "Starry Night" painting. Coupled with the down-to-earth design of Nordic homes, using pine wood as a base material, it enhances the aesthetic of the natural beauty even further.

More specifically, it's like being in the Swiss Alps during winter, except it's a coastal city where people want to spend the holiday relaxing under the warmth of the cold night by a fireplace, with their family and friends.

Placing his chest on the ground near the ship's railing, William leaned against the snowy wooden framework. He stood there, taking in the view, with his gaze currently focused on the very large pine wood abode in the middle of a row upon row of houses.

After a couple of minutes savoring the beauty, William couldn't help but realize that, this is what a civilized Viking city looks like when they decide to take a diplomatic approach.

—