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Witcher: The Half Elf

Wayne, a former sports student, found himself in an unexpectedly awkward situation after a fatal accident involving a dump truck. Instead of continuing his previous life, he was reborn as a half-elf-witcher at Kaer Morhen. This transformation left him feeling out of place in a world filled with unruly individuals, flourishing malevolent deities, rampant monsters, and inept kings and nobles. Yet, Wayne couldn't help but feel that he was endowed with numerous advantages. ______________________________ Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or the fanfic I was merely translating this. Note: This is a Chinese Translation 巫师:这个猎魔人不务正业 You can support me on Patreon and Read 10 Chapters in advance patreon.com/Lil674

LIl_wretch · Book&Literature
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165 Chs

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Back in Vizima, though the king's reward was still pending, Wayne had already withdrawn three thousand orens from his coffers. He gave five hundred to each of his fellow witchers, including Vesemir and Geralt, as a reward for their work. All but Vesemir accepted the generous sum with good-natured ribbing at Wayne's expense. The other witcher brothers were not polite to Wayne. They accepted this huge sum of money with a mocking tone as if they were beating up a rich man

Wayne, however, wouldn't let Vesemir refuse. He insisted the old witcher take not only the five hundred, but an additional thousand orens under the pretense of repairs for Kaer Morhen. With two master-level treasure chests and dozens of ordinary ones waiting to be opened in his inventory, Wayne wasn't concerned about the expense. He was, after all, a man of considerable means.

The witchers, who had come specifically to aid Wayne, were more than just colleagues. They were friends, and there was no need for excessive politeness. After a farewell feast prepared by Wayne himself, they departed Vizima, each heading towards their assigned regions to continue their work.

Only Berengar and Geralt, who was tending to Yennefer, remained in Vizima. Keira and Yennefer needed rest after their magical exertions. Triss was in an even worse state. The mental assault and subsequent magical backlash had left her traumatized and unable to use potions due to her sensitivity to magic. She had taken a leave of absence from her duties as a royal advisor.

Wayne, feeling guilty for Triss's injuries, stayed at her home, cooking for her, comforting her, and generally tending to her needs. To repay the sorceresses for their help, he also shared the magical manuscripts he had discovered in the elven ruins. These notes, penned by a mage over a century ago, proved invaluable to the sorceresses, who considered them more than sufficient repayment for their assistance.

This gave Triss a welcome distraction during her recovery, and Wayne a sense of relief. He disliked owing favors and preferred to reciprocate kindness and repay debts.

For the next three months, Wayne received no further difficult assignments.

In addition to completing daily tasks and waiting for the lucky day in March, Wayne spent most of his time familiarizing himself with Aerondight, the sword bestowed upon him by the Lady of the Lake. It was a two-handed silver-white blade, nearly 1.3 meters long and weighing about 20 kilograms, with a gold-patterned handguard and a unique blue scabbard.

According to Lilith, while not quite able to cut through iron like mud, Aerondight was significantly sharper and more durable than ordinary swords. No weapon could easily damage it. Moreover, the sword possessed a unique power: it grew stronger with each evil monster slain, storing a portion of their essence as sacred energy.

When enough energy was accumulated, Aerondight could unleash a devastating holy attack, a radiant blade spanning several meters, even up to ten. With enough power, it could potentially cleave even a mighty dragon in two.

The sword's scabbard, named Avalon, was also a powerful magical artifact. Infused with the sword's holy energy, it could project a shield capable of protecting its wielder from any attack for a short time. This absolute defense, however, lasted only a minute and took a month to recharge after each use.

Of course, the claim of protection from any harm was an exaggeration. Every magical shield had its limits, and Avalon was no exception. Its defensive capacity was simply incredibly high.

There was no doubt that Aerondight, along with Avalon, was a powerful and versatile weapon. Not only could it hold its own in everyday combat, but it could also turn the tide of battle in critical moments, even saving Wayne's life. It was truly a rare artifact in the witcher's world.

Wayne's efforts to please the goddess, including the intimate nature of their relationship, had paid off handsomely. The memory of Lilith's exquisite touch filled him with a thrill. He resolved to continue their passionate encounters, learning and sharing new techniques with the goddess whenever possible.

This wasn't merely driven by lust, of course. His primary goal was to further develop his newfound skill, Divine Blessing. This skill was incredibly potent. The resistance to abnormal states benefited his body, while mental and soul resistance bolstered his mind and spirit. If he could raise the skill's level high enough, he could drastically reduce damage from all types of attacks, potentially even achieving a state of near-invulnerability. It was, without a doubt, the most powerful defensive passive skill he could imagine.

As for the final effect of the skill, the bonus to charm, Wayne understood this as the inherent awe, love, admiration, or fear that creatures felt towards gods. Charm was an invaluable asset, whether dealing with people, animals, monsters, or even magical elements and the laws of nature. The ability to garner favor from others was a tremendous advantage.

Though he hadn't figured out the exact role of the charm attribute yet, its inclusion in the Divine Blessing skill was undoubtedly significant.

Time flew by, and it was now late March. One morning, Wayne gently moved Triss, who was asleep beside him, and reached for his silver thirty-six-sided die on the nightstand. He casually tossed it, and it landed on thirty-six. Excited, he repeated the throw five more times, each roll exceeding thirty. This was a clear sign that his lucky day had arrived.

For Wayne, lucky day, also known as unboxing day, was the most important time of each month. And this one was particularly special because he had two master-level treasure chests waiting to be opened.

Wayne dressed and patted Triss's flawless backside. "My dear Triss," he whispered, "I need to head home today, so don't wait for me for lunch."

Triss stirred awake, her fingers playfully tracing Wayne's body. "No morning exercise today?" she asked with a giggle, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Are you going out with that thing still... excited?"

Wayne shivered at her touch, glancing at the rising sun outside. He cursed the sorceress's teasing nature inwardly, but shed his clothes once more. "Alright, Triss," he said, "Since you're not afraid of Yennefer hearing your cries for mercy..."

Hours later, as Wayne left Triss's house, he could still see Yennefer's playful smile in his mind. It was a shame she was Geralt's love interest, making her off-limits to him.

Back at his own home, Wayne locked the door, performed his usual ritual of bathing, changing clothes, and burning incense, then settled into meditation.

"Open the treasure chests," he commanded.