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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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164 Chs

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After discussing the details of exploring the ruins, Wayne and Geralt headed to the forest to gather the materials required for the potions. Wayne is still a novice in this field, and most of his experience has been with herbs and monsters around Kaer Morhen. For the rest, he relies on Geralt, an experienced witcher, to guide him through both theory and practice.

Even though Wayne had gained a considerable amount of knowledge about monsters and herbs from books during his two years in Kaer Morhen, applying that knowledge was a different challenge altogether.

While collecting herbs, the duo also scoured various terrains for signs of those monsters. Toruviel, having no specific task at hand, took the initiative to serve as their guide in the forest.

It must be acknowledged that the elf race is highly adept at fighting in the forest. With their natural sensitivity and keen senses, and after undergoing specific training, they can become proficient archers.

Toruviel, leading this group of non-human races, stands out as the strongest in terms of combat prowess. She excels not only as a skilled swordsman but also as a marksman with exceptional accuracy.

The trio traversed through the forest, swiftly completing the designated collection task. Toruwell's impressive performance showcased the combat capabilities inherent in the non-human race, leaving Wayne with a newfound appreciation for their fighting potential.

He was confident that he could deal with a dozen armed bandits at once, but he was not sure that he could face the same number of elves in the forest.

Bows and arrows hidden in the dark are far more threatening than shining knives.

Upon returning to the camp, Wayne, in high spirits, took charge of the cooking. He transformed the game they had hunted during their missions into a hearty pot of vegetable stew and various robust dishes, extending an invitation to everyone in the camp to savor the meal.

Undoubtedly, Wayne's Level 6 cooking skills, coupled with culinary knowledge from the modern earth that was far beyond the Middle Ages, successfully conquered everyone's appetite. Even the usually indifferent-to-food-taste female elf leader indulged in an extra bowl than usual.

Taking advantage of this pleasant atmosphere, Toruviel decided to hold a small bonfire dinner. Men, women, young and old, representing various non-human races, gathered together.

They laughed, enjoyed delicious food, drank fine wine, and shared their expectations for the future. This event significantly boosted the morale and cohesion of the entire camp.

After a short period of joy, time soon came to the next day, and the commission to clean up the ruins officially began.

There were five people in the team exploring the ruins this time. Alongside the two witchers, Wayne and Geralt, Toruviel also brought a male elf marksman and a dwarf warrior in heavy armor.

Certainly, based on the discussions between the two parties, dealing with monsters is not suitable for ordinary individuals. Toruviel and her two fighters do not need to directly participate in the battle.

They were only responsible for following Wayne and Geralt, handling the corpses of monsters, and preventing accidents. Geralt and Wayne were the main force in cleaning up the ruins. Before officially entering the ruins, they had to carry out a necessary preparatory measure exclusively for witchers.

Geralt and Wayne sat cross-legged at the entrance of the ruins. In front of them, there were five types of glass bottles, numbering more than a dozen. These bottles contained witcher potions of various colors.

"Cat Potion, Thunder Potion, Swallow Potion, Tawny Owl, and Maribor Forest."

While mentioning the names, the White Wolf pointed at the potions and explained to Wayne.

"Remember their effects well. As for which ones to drink, Wayne, you can choose. But be mindful of your limits. I don't want to bury a body poisoned by potions before the battle even begins."

After speaking, Geralt directly took a bottle of each of the five potions, as if he were drinking alcohol, and poured one into his mouth every half minute. He then closed his eyes and entered a state of meditation.

Being a witcher for more than 70 years, Geralt possessed the deepest mutation among all Wolf School witchers. He had the best physical talent and could withstand the strongest poisons.

Drinking five bottles of potions at the same time wasn't even his limit.

However, Wayne, sitting across from him, was different. He knew very well that without system blessing, his degree of mutation would probably be the most obvious among the existing wolf school witchers.

But in the past two years, he only drank one bottle of potion at most at a time. He was very self-aware of his poison resistance limit. Three bottles of potion were his limit.

After thinking about it, Wayne reached out and took away the Cat Potion, the Swallow Potion, and the Tawny Owl.

These three potions can strengthen his dark vision, recovery ability, and the recovery speed of the magic power in his body respectively.

In the dark environment of the underground ruins, the Cat Potion is a must, and the other two can strengthen his magical abilities. Considering his own situation, Wayne no longer hesitated, picked up the three bottles of potions, and poured them into his stomach while meditating.

The taste of the potion is quite bad; most of it contains the body tissue of monsters, and the taste can only be described as indescribable.

But dealing with monsters is too dangerous, and they may die if they are not careful. In order to improve the survival rate, witchers have to drink these terrible potions. Ten minutes later, both Geralt and Wayne finished their meditation, and the witcher potions had been completely digested by their bodies, starting to strengthen their bodily functions.

This enhancement made both of their faces pale, with black veins protruding from all parts of their faces, and even the original amber pupils turned black and filled the entire eyeballs, which looked quite strange and terrifying. This terrifying change shocked Toruviel and her two subordinates who had been waiting by the side.

However, the three of them were all long-lived races, and they had all heard about the deeds of the witchers. They were surprised but calmed down quickly, showing a resilience not found in many human troublemakers.

After everything was ready, without further communication, Wayne and Geralt held their silver swords and placed Quen's shields on themselves. They walked side by side through the gate guarded by soldiers, adopting a cautious attitude.

Beyond the gate lay a corridor, also designed in the elven style. The walls and ceiling were adorned with intricate carvings, but due to the passage of time, many sculptures showed noticeable signs of weathering, imparting a sense of the vicissitudes of history.

However, Wayne and Geralt didn't pay attention to these sculptures. After walking forty to fifty meters in the corridor, some relatively new footprints appeared in their dark vision.

Seeing these footprints, Geralt first cautiously observed the ceiling and surroundings, and after confirming that there was no danger, he squatted down and observed carefully.

It appeared that someone had recently entered the ruin, leaving behind these noticeable footprints on the dusty floor.

Geralt observed for about a minute, then got up and said to Wayne: "It's the drowner's footprints. Be prepared, there are a lot of them, maybe you will meet them at the end of this corridor".