Chapter 17: That Old Rascal Is Very Bad
That old rascal is very bad.
In the future timeline, the southern Nilfgaardian Empire began the Second Northern War.
Rationally, after the First Northern War, all the Northern kings should have understood the threat of the Nilfgaardian Empire and joined hands.
And the other Northern kings did just that.
But only King Henselt of Kaedwen took advantage of his border kingdom Aedirn being busy fighting with the Nilfgaardians and openly sent soldiers to occupy and annex Aedirn's land.
Subsequently, he even went so far as to shake hands with the marshal of the Nilfgaardians to finalize the division of Aedirn.
He had absolutely no shame.
"To the west of the Kaedwen Kingdom is the Redania Kingdom. Vizimir II, the Just, rules Redania as its King."
"King Vizimir keeps neighboring nations fairly in check, and he keeps the internal economy in very good order as well. Above all, King Vizimir is quite tolerant with Witchers."
"So not only can we get a lot of work in Redania, but also we can hardly ever find people who won't pay."
"But if you want to know where Witchers can live best: one is martial-plentiful Skellige Islands. Skelligers are a militaristic people that celebrates strength, and nothing can settle for drink and combat."
"The second is the mythic realm of knights, the fairy tale kingdom of Toussaint, with honey and wine flowing everywhere."
"The third is the Kingdom of Kovir and Poviss."
Lambert sighed. "Too bad, I've never had the chance to go to Toussaint. If you ever get a chance to go to Toussaint, don't forget to tell me about it when you get back."
"Alright, let's go take a look, it should be done."
Lynn walked over to the stone platform.
He confirmed that the medallion left on the stone platform had finished charging.
He picked up the medallion.
And the moment his hand touched the stone platform.
He sensed a sudden rush of magic from the stone platform into his hand.
He was shocked and picked up the medallion from the stone platform.
The feeling of magic running into his hand instantly stopped.
He thought for a moment and put his hand back on the stone platform.
Quickly, that feeling returned.
Lambert's voice came from behind him.
"It's nothing, but wait for me for a moment."
Lynn hesitated for a moment and shut his eyes.
He touched tentatively.
Then he found that if he wanted to, he could let the magic built up in his hand flow into his body.
Or he could just turn and walk away and leave it alone.
But what Lynn could feel was that the accumulated magic in his hand was very soft.
Similar to a warm bath with the right temperature.
After balancing for some time, he eased his guard and let the magic flow into his body.
The Witcher medallion in his hand shook due to the flow of magic.
He could feel the flow of magic built up by the Circle of Elements entering his body gradually down his arm.
He opened the attribute window and found that the attribute points were increasing as more and more magic was being taken in.
Lynn's eyes gleamed, greedily drawing in the magic of the Circle of Elements.
Until the magic coming into his body began to slow down, as if a dry river, until it disappeared.
He glanced at the attribute panel and realized what he had just gained:
"Attribute points: 0 (69%) → 5 (0%)"
Translating the Circle of Elements' magic actually gained 431% experience points.
Even though very ecstatic, Lynn did not hesitate to distribute all of them to the signs.
"Signs (Proficient) → (Master/Ultimate)"
"New skill: Magic Absorption (Increases magic recovery speed by 20%)"
As the phrases behind the Signs on the attribute panel changed, Lynn witnessed the unstable magic within him suddenly boil over.
Instinctively, he raised his hand, and a fierce gleaming fire burst out of his palm.
Had he this ability while he fought against the Swamp Hag some months prior, the Master grade Aard sign he flung could actually drive the Swamp Hag back instead of just having it stumble back.
Not just that, he could also very much feel that upon releasing the sign, consumed chaotic magic were being replenished quite rapidly, too, with a much more substantial recovery rate than before.
If the Igni sign was on the level of a lighter that was released by an average Witcher, then Lynn's just released flame would be a flamethrower.
Lambert stared in awe at the Igni sign Lynn emitted.
"Is he really a genius?"
When night fell, they both returned to Kaer Morhen.
In celebration of Lynn's success at the Medallion Trials, Vesemir opened doors to all his favorite wine.
You know, Vesemir wouldn't even allow anyone to touch those wines at the time.
Lambert did try to slip into the cellar once, but Vesemir chased him for a couple of miles.
Of course, if there was simply wine and not food, then that wouldn't be an option.
Geralt and Eskel prepared a mountain of delicious-looking food themselves.
The aroma of meat was coming pouring over, and Lambert's mouth started to water.
They all sat around the table, and the firelight illuminated the smiles on their faces.
It was bitterly cold at night on the mountain.
But the serene atmosphere and the crackling firewood in the hearth drove the chill away.
That evening, Vesemir became tipsy.
Everyone walked the old Witcher to his room.
"Guess what? I've never seen Dad Vesemir drunk," Lambert looked over to catch Geralt's eye, "How about you, Geralt, when was the last time you saw Dad Vesemir drunk?"
"A long, long time ago, so long ago that I couldn't remember why."
The four of them returned to the hall and had a long night carousing after that.
Lynn could vaguely remember getting up to very silly things.
But he couldn't remember what it was.
The next day, he did not get up until noon.
And his head hurt like hell.
He drank some water and ran around Kaer Morhen for several laps.
After a long cold wind, at last he sobered up a lot.
When he returned to the castle hall, he found that the hall was in chaos.
Geralt and the others did not even go back to their rooms. They just slept in the hallway, thereabouts.
Lynn cleaned up quietly for them and led them back to their individual rooms one by one.
When people always hope for a certain day in the future to come faster, time will run out from their fingertips unconsciously.
When they think back unexpectedly, they will lament that the days passed too rapidly.
When the moment came at March 1250, it was yet cold in the mountains.
But the Witchers were ready to leave.
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