Chapter 7

Wreckages of carriages were common in the southern forests. The arrogance of man was seemingly undeterred by the thousands of human skeletons that provided nutrients to the ecosystem.

The carriages either rotted and became part of the forest, or became host to fungi and strange colourful plants.

One such wreckage lay before me.

I stretched out a claw and made a small incision on a strangely swollen purplish flower. The flowers hung like a deathly veil from the remains of the overturned carriage.

Although it lacked a nervous system, the flower was aware enough to realise that it was under threat.

A huge cloud of yellowish spores erupted across the plant and towards my face.

Fortunately I was familiar with the plant's unusual characteristics and had already leapt out of the way.

I repeated my experiment, cutting a small incision on a different flower until the network of flowers had emptied the last of their spores.

Pleased, I reached out and snatched a handful of flowers. I brought them to my mouth and eagerly chewed.

After emptying their spores, the flavour of the purple flowers underwent dramatic changes.

The taste was strongly reminiscent of grilled meat and I relished the opportunity to expose my taste buds to new and delicious flavours.

I cast a brief glance at the scattered items the carriage had presumably been carrying before meeting it's demise.

Suddenly, something caught my eye.

Extending my claws I deftly sliced apart several thick vines that had curled around a rectangular shaped object.

In the centre of the object a shiny green jem, untouched by moss or weathering, glinted brightly.

The reflection of light in the gem was what had attracted my attention.

Curious, I examined the rectangular object.

"Book."

Without any companions to talk to, I found my speech patterns becoming increasingly simple.

I greatly preferred to enjoy the sounds of the forest rather than listen to my own voice.

The book was clearly of high quality and it's intricate binding had allowed it to survive the erosion of time. The gem in its centre was likely of large value.

I turned the first page and eagerly began to read.

'This the journey of the mighty Drusus! Father says that the trade route sold to me by that man is false heresy, with this expedition I shall prove him wrong.'

The entries continued for several weeks, documenting the bragging of an individual named Drusus as he gathered a team to map out a trade route through virgin forests.

Much of the writing was groundless boasting and discussions of which whore the wealthy and prodigal Drusus favoured at the time.

After reading dozens of pages of drivel, I finally arrived at something useful.

'I wonder if perhaps we shall encounter one of those famed Witchers! It is rumoured that they still dwell in an unreachable stronghold in the blue mountains. Father's fortune is not small, perhaps he can use his contacts with the Kaedwrn royalty to confirm this rumour. I wonder how his disdainful face would change if I ordered one of those Witchers to drop a griffins head upon his pillow while he slept.'

I couldn't help but smile upon realising where I was.

The school of the wolf resided in the ruined stronghold of Kaer Morgen. Judging by the journal entry the location of these mountains was not more than a few hundred miles away.

According to my knowledge of the games, trainee Witchers would often be tasked with bringing back the heads of a variety of monsters that dwelled in the blue mountains.

I was eager to sample new flesh.

The call of destiny had been growing stronger as I progressed south. Now that I was aware of my location, I believed that the will of this world was urging me interact with the major plotline.

Whether this would turn out to have positive or negative consequences I did not know, but I held confidence in my ability to retreat in the face of unfavourable circumstances.

The days continued to pass and I drew closer to human civilization.

On my 81st day in this new world, I finally encountered my first human.

"The horses aren't happy John, they're scared! I've heard about this from the farmhands, the horses can sense things that we can't, we should turn back. No treasure is worth risking our lives for!" A bearded man spoke anxiously and gestured to his companion.

The face of his companion was bright red with frustration as he furiously attempted to subdue the horse bucking wildly between his legs.

After barely managing to calm the rioting animal, the red-faced man turned to his companion and replied angrily, "I did not realise I was travelling with such a coward! Perhaps you should wish to go home and suck from your wife's breasts alongside your son!"

The bearded man scowled menacingly, "Do you wish to say that again John, my ears are shit but my knife hears far better."

Both men stared at each other with fiery gazes. The air became thick with tension and the horses frantically turned their heads from side to side as if searching for an invisible foe.

Before the situate could escalate any further, the nerves of the red-faced man's horse seemed to break.

The beast reared up and began galloping crazily, completely ignoring it's riders attempt to control it. Even as the red-faced man struck the horse's flank with the flat edge of his sword, it continued to gallop wildly without slowing.

The horse of the bearded man was evidently stimulated by the frantic actions of its kin and chased behind the other horse.

The scene of the two men screaming and yelling as they clung desperately to the regins while their horses sprinted tirelessly through the forests was the most amusing thing I'd seen since awaking in this world.

I shuttled between the treetops following behind the horses. Inadvertently in my excitement to encounter humans, I had revealed a trace of my aura.

Horses were exceptionally sensitive animals and this trace, although only revealed for a splitsecond, spurred them to madness.

A bolting horse would not stop for anything. They would gallop and gallop until something they crashed into something and snapped their necks.

Both riders were obviously experienced and managed to hang on despite the horses crazy running. Their terror filled eyes showed that they knew that if their horse were to collide with something, then they would be unable to escape their deathly fates.

Thankfully for the two men, the horses finally freed themselves from their madness after several dozen miles and slowed to a safe trot.

The riders did not dare attempt to control the clearly unstable animals and rather opted to allow their mounts to drink from a shallow pool and eat grass as they pleased.

"What the fuck just happened John?" The bearded man spoke, his fists clenched so tightly that blood seeped from his fingernails.

The red faced man was now white as a sheet and responded with a shaky voice, "I don't fucking know, but I sure as hell don't give a fuck about that treasure no more. If it wants to stay lost then I say it can stay fucking lost."

High above the men's heads and hidden from their sight, I rythmically tapped my claws against a tree trunk and smiled happily.

I had experienced the pleasure of devouring and the joys of becoming stronger. But this was the first time I had experienced genuine fun since my resurrection.

I looked forwards to what other delights humankind might bring me.