128 Magic Missile

The final item, a Hearthstone, sent a jolt through Wayne. Legend whispered of an ancient Azerothian tradition: travelers carried a hearthstone, a fragment of their home's hearth, to ward off homesickness. Imbued with a touch of magic, it held the power to return its owner home in an instant.

However, the system's description revealed a crucial detail – a 30-day cooldown and the ability to bind it to only one location. While familiar to Warcraft veterans like himself, this Hearthstone's limitations categorized it as a common item. Essentially, it was a one-way teleport, a potential lifesaver, and a time-saving travel option. Yet, the lengthy cooldown restricted its everyday use. For a witcher traversing vast distances, however, it was a valuable tool for a swift return home. The real dilemma lay in binding it – the Hearthstone could only be linked to a single location, and that choice couldn't be undone.

Pushing those thoughts aside for later, Wayne inventoried his spoils. The Hearthstone, Detonating Talismans, Destiny Coin, Intermediate Healing Potion, and Skeleton Summoning Scroll – these five held the most immediate utility and found their way into his enchanted pouch. The remaining items, like throwing knives from various worlds and exotic foodstuffs, were relegated to a locked iron chest within the room. Whether for future use or mere keepsakes, they weren't priorities at the moment. With a satisfied sigh, Wayne finished organizing his haul.

The final item, a rolled parchment unlike any he'd seen before, caught Wayne's eye. It was a magic missile scroll from the world of Heroes of Might and Magic. Though classified as a basic spell in its world, this scroll held a unique quality – unlike most scrolls, it wasn't disposable. According to the system, it could be used indefinitely until its internal magic structure crumbled. It didn't hold its own magical charge; instead, it channeled the user's power. Essentially, for a witcher with sufficient magical reserves, this was a magical equivalent of a pistol. He planned to test its capabilities in the backyard training grounds, though he didn't expect much from a "lowest level" spell.

Reaching the training area, Wayne found Berengar already engaged in swordsmanship practice. Gone were the Wolf School armor and the feline eyes of a witcher. Perhaps to break free from his past, Berengar had even altered his hairstyle. Coupled with a shift in demeanor, his face was now a canvas of vibrant expressions, unrecognizable to any fellow Wolf School witcher. Wayne offered a greeting. Since Berengar's recovery was still incomplete, he remained in a recuperative phase, currently tasked with housekeeping and honing his fighting skills.

Before Wayne could approach the training dummy, a fluffy white blur emerged from the nearby grass. A fresh bone clamped in its mouth, its short tail wagged furiously. This ball of fur, with stubby legs and boundless enthusiasm, circled its master, clearly enjoying its new home. Wayne crouched down with a smile, reaching out to pat its head. The little creature responded with a playful lick, its wet tongue a sign of affection.

An unexpected connection bloomed within Wayne. An intangible bond pulsed between him and the creature. Though incapable of communication through this link, he felt a growing closeness with the little one. As if on cue, Wayne opened the system interface and discovered a new skill nestled within his auxiliary skillset:

Beast Taming LV1 (Animal Affinity +1, Owner's Bond +1).

Stroking the head of his young dire wolf, White Fang, he instinctively glanced at Lucifer, his black steed, in the stable. A subtle shift – a deeper understanding between master and mount. Lucifer and White Fang seemed more attuned to his emotions, their obedience sharper. This, undoubtedly, was the power of Beast Taming. A vision danced in his mind: a future where the wilds no longer teemed with adversaries, but with potential companions, a testament to his honed taming skills.

With a gentle pat on White Fang's rump, Wayne sent the pup off to explore the yard. Returning to the training dummy, he retrieved the magic missile scroll. Channeling his chaotic magic into the parchment, Wayne focused his will. Three violet, fist-sized, cone-shaped missiles materialized before the scroll, zipping towards the wooden dummy seven or eight meters away at his mental command.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

Like a hammer striking wood, the dummy shuddered under the impacts. However, the only lasting effects were three superficial dents on its surface. The power, it seemed, was roughly equivalent to a strong punch from an ordinary person.

Disappointment washed over Wayne. He channeled more power than before, overloading the scroll. This time, nine violet energy clusters materialized, fanning out and rocketing towards the dummy at his mental command.

Pow! Pow! Pow!

The impacts rattled the dummy, leaving slightly deeper gouges, but no significant damage. As expected for a basic spell scroll, Wayne mused. While the magic expenditure was minimal – firing nine missiles like that perhaps equaled half the cost of a basic Igni sign – their power was underwhelming. Short of hitting an unarmored foe, they'd inflict little more than stinging pain. After a dozen test runs, Wayne retracted the scroll, a tinge of disappointment lingering. However, a benefit emerged: the magic missile seemed to possess a homing function. Guided solely by his thoughts, the missiles could even turn mid-flight, with a range of roughly 30 meters. While lacking raw power, a barrage of them could inflict considerable damage, making it a viable offensive option.

Buoyed by his lucky day, Wayne knew it was the perfect time to capitalize on good fortune. Staying home would be a waste. Fully equipped, he embarked on a city exploration, browsing shops for bargains. True to his lucky streak, the morning yielded two unclaimed purses! He even stumbled upon a classic hero-saves-the-fair maiden scenario, involving a baron's wife. With the right approach, perhaps a romantic entanglement could blossom.

Shops overflowed with promotions and discounts, allowing him to acquire rare materials and desirable goods. As he strolled through a high-end district, contemplating a delicious meal at a renowned eatery, a voice calling his name from behind startled him.

"Wayne! Fancy meeting you here," it chirped. He whirled around to find a vision in Scarlet. Triss Merigold, her fiery hair cascading down her back in a loose bun, stood before him. A smattering of freckles danced across her porcelain skin, and a playful smile graced her lips. Wayne blinked, surprise giving way to a grin. "Triss," he acknowledged with a polite nod.

"My Lady, it's really rare to meet you on the street."

"Is today your day off?"

Triss covered her mouth with a chuckle, looked at Wayne with seductive eyes, and said:

I've already said, just call me Triss, aren't we friends?

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