The Witcher: Grinding Experience Starting as a Wolf School Witcher

Chapter 83 Reunion

Inside Jennings' camp.

The wolf head badge that was pressed against his chest no longer agitated violently.

Arwen reached out and picked up the magic crystal mirror.

Pull out the blanket from the table and wrap the magic crystal mirror completely.

The cat's eyes scanned the surroundings, finally settling on Viscount Jennings.

After searching for a while, they found no valuable letters or documents, only some scattered gems worth forty or fifty crowns.

He carefully sheathed the greatsword, packed up his belongings, and left the tent.

The thick fog outside began to dissipate slowly.

Looking up at the sky, the moon peeked out from behind the clouds.

Today is October 16th, a full moon.

The silvery-white moonlight disc player dispersed the mist, enveloping the camp and shining on the messy ground in front of it, where severed limbs, broken bones, weapons, and tattered flags were scattered everywhere.

The splattered blood, like thick black asphalt, emitted a foul stench.

Open the panel.

[Wolf School Witcher Swordsmanship Experience +10!]

[Wolf School Demon Hunter Swordsmanship Lv2: 1000/1000 → Wolf School Demon Hunter Swordsmanship Lv3, Spinning Blade (Green) → (Yellow)]

【Whirling Blade (Yellow): When using Wolf School swordsmanship, the power of the first sword remains unchanged, the speed and power of the second sword increase by 10%, the speed and power of the third sword increase by 15%, and the speed and power of the fourth sword increase by 20%】

[Wolf School Demon Hunter Swordsmanship Lv3: 0/10000]

"It's been upgraded..."

Alwin silently sensed this change.

"The original two sword strikes have been amplified to three, and the power of each strike has been increased. The effect is quite good."

Arriving at the upwind side of the camp, he made an Igni hand gesture with his right hand.

A spark ignited on a tent, the wind fanned the flames, and since the camp's buildings were mostly made of wood, a raging fire quickly broke out.

As we left the camp, thick black smoke was already billowing up behind us.

Back up the hill, the mare lowered her head and nibbled on green shoots from the bushes around her, making soft humming sounds.

The ravens had already flown back and were perched on the oak tree, preening their feathers.

Arwen played with the stone ring in his hand; just from the elven patterns on it, one could tell that this item was extraordinary.

However, the specific effects are not yet visible.

And that phantom of the magical crystal, the culprit behind "Freak, or the Witcher's Description," has finally been caught.

Blood debts must be repaid in blood!

Alwin's ears twitched, and he abruptly turned his head to the side.

He sensed someone approaching, silently, like a ghost, unnoticed even by the raven.

Two figures emerged one after the other from the oak grove in the distance.

Under the moonlight, their hair was as white as two blobs of cream.

The surroundings were unusually quiet, with only the rustling of the wind through the oak trees.

Upon seeing him, the two quickened their pace and rapidly approached.

Their attire was very similar, all wearing black leather jackets decorated with silver studs, and two sword hilts hanging from their right shoulders.

In the darkness, the amber-colored, vertical cat's eyes gleamed.

Witchers, and two witchers at that.

Alwin had already clearly seen the face of the witcher closest to him, and a look of delight appeared in his cat-like eyes.

Geralt.

Geralt stepped over the bushes, casually brushing aside the branches blocking his way, a look of surprise flashing in his eyes.

A little over a year ago, when he had just come down the mountain, Arwen was only up to his shoulder.

Now I can look him in the eye.

He remembered that Arwen should only be sixteen years old now, and his body was still developing.

I'm afraid it won't be more than six months before he's taller than me.

"Arwin?"

Geralt's tone was tinged with worry, especially upon seeing the latter covered in blood.

"How's the situation now?"

Arwen raised his forehead, his gaze sweeping over the other white-haired witcher who was slowly approaching.

Geralt gestured and introduced, "This is Holt, a Witcher like us."

Unlike Geralt, his white hair wasn't tied back with a headband; instead, it was loose and flowing over his shoulders.

His face was weathered and thin, and he looked about the same age as Vesemir. His cat-like eyes were sinister and vicious.

Holt.

The former Witcher of the Wolf School, the Ghost Reindeer, is now Preston Holt.

Holt nodded to Alwin as a greeting.

Geralt continued, "Holt and I received your letter five days ago and immediately headed for the Temple of Meritelli. We only arrived at night today."

"I saw the horrific scene at the temple entrance. Nannick told me it was an attack by a mob."

"He said you were heading towards the Viscount's camp and he was worried something might happen to you, so we came to help immediately."

Holt took two steps forward, lowered his gaze, and looked down the hillside.

"Geralt, I think we're too late. Our little witcher has already taken care of things."

Geralt followed Holt's gaze and saw flames shooting into the sky and black smoke obscuring the moon from the camp.

He pursed his lips, disbelief flashing in his cat-like eyes, his voice low and deep.

"Arwin, you single-handedly took over Viscount Jennings' camp?"

Alwin nodded.

Geralt frowned and grabbed the former's shoulders with both hands.

"Do you remember what Vesemir told you?"

"Witchers are supposed to remain neutral. Do you know how much trouble it will cause you to kill a nobleman, or even a viscount?"

"I know."

Geralt saw that Arwin's eyes were firm, and his gaze was fixed on the camp that was burning with fire.

"No trace was left, right?"

Alwin said, "There will be no survivors; the fire will destroy all traces."

Geralt finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Holt interrupted their conversation.

"Alright, now is not the time to talk about this. Alwin must have his reasons for making this choice. Let's leave here first."

Alwin nodded. "That's right. I'll tell you the specific reasons later."

Geralt hummed in agreement.

Arwen untied the reins from the oak tree and mounted the mare.

Geralt and Holt's horses were also tethered not far away.

The two mounted their horses, tightened the reins, and as the horses turned their heads, the metal rings on the harness jingled.

The three walked side by side, Geralt waiting for Arwin's reply.

Alwin's gaze, however, was fixed on the badge on Holt's chest.

The badge is not shaped like a wolf's head, but rather like a snake's head, with scarlet eyes, a wide-open mouth, and sharp teeth.

Holt noticed his gaze and his voice became hoarse.

"Stop looking, little one."

"Geralt told me about you, saying you were a genius of Kaer Morhen. I didn't believe it at first, but after meeting you, I realized he was right."

He picked up the snake-shaped badge from his chest with his right hand. "This badge isn't what you think; it has nothing to do with the Viper School."

"It was a badge I made myself after I was stripped of my Wolf School badge and left Kael'thas Morhen's den."

At this point, he let out a self-deprecating laugh.

"A Witcher can't do without a silver sword and an insignia."

"Otherwise, those idiots wouldn't even know who to pay the bounty to."