"It's been less than two years since he was brought back, right?" Vesemir asked, recalling that the Griffin School had mentioned Leo before. "Has he already passed the Trial of Choice? Isn't it too early to put him through the Trials of Grasses and Dreams now? Ideally, that should take... at least five to six years."
"He's ready," Keldar said, gesturing for the old Wolf to be at ease.
"The Trial of Choice is primarily meant to raise an apprentice's physical resilience to the level required for mutation. Leo has met that standard. His combat training can wait—or rather, it will be more effective once he's passed the Trial of Grasses."
"If the Trial of Choice is drawn out too long, it can actually result in physical deformities or other anomalies. The timeline we settled on was based on a full evaluation of Leo's condition. This is part of a new training methodology we're looking to implement—more efficient, more targeted."
In terms of academic expertise, Vesemir had to concede that Keldar had the edge. He gave a nod of agreement.
Everyone turned to look at Leo, tense anticipation in their eyes.
Lann stepped forward decisively and placed his hand on the boy's forehead. He was the final failsafe. If anything went wrong during the trial, he would use the ability point he'd deliberately saved to form a contract with Leo—restoring his injuries and terminating the trial immediately.
"Are you ready, boy?"
Leo lay trembling on the laboratory table, his entire body tense with anxiety—yet he still nodded resolutely.
The needle pierced his vein, and alchemical fluids flowed into his bloodstream. His consciousness began to blur. The potion dulled his pain, but he struggled to retain just enough awareness to resist the effects of the elixir.
Murmurs spilled from the boy's lips, and the spellcasters hastily began chanting their incantations.
Empty vials and heaps of alchemical materials floated into the air, merging in the grasp of a chaotic magical hand. The decoction for the Trial of Green Grass began to brew.
Then the pain surged.
Leo's body tightened, his teeth biting down hard on the rubber tongue guard in his mouth. Eventually, the agony overwhelmed him, and his stifled suffering turned into growls and cries.
Time passed. Outside the window, the daylight dimmed and brightened again.
The Witchers watched without blinking.
...
Life in Cintra continued on in an orderly fashion.
At the northernmost edge of the kingdom lay Brokilon.
Since Cintra's restoration, most core infrastructure and talented professionals—such as craftsmen—had been relocated back to the capital, as it was, after all, the heart of the kingdom.
Yet Brokilon, once a direct fief under Count Lann and the most crucial stronghold during the restoration, would not be forgotten so easily.
The fortresses and bunkers built for wartime purposes were fully preserved, along with the supporting buildings and personnel. Trade routes and waterways opened during the war remained completely intact.
This region had always bordered multiple realms. Now, combined with such rare infrastructure for the North, 'Brokilon Town' had officially been upgraded to Brokilon City.
If the Cintran capital represented the political core of the kingdom, then Brokilon's future was its economic engine. Lann's vision for the city mirrored the status of Vizima in Temeria or Novigrad in Redania.
Levin, a native of Brokilon who had long served as Lann's aide, was appointed as the first mayor of Brokilon City.
He had fully inherited Lann's administrative style—personally approving documents, assigning "tasks" to his subordinates, and occasionally taking the initiative himself. This period had provided Lann with invaluable experience.
Today, Levin received a new official document from the capital.
"This is…" Levin's expression turned to surprise as he quickly grasped the gravity of the matter.
The document was immediately transcribed and posted in the Brokilon City square.
Citizens crowded around the notice.
"Another message from the capital? Is the Duke calling us to arms again?"
"Hey, hey, what are you running home for? Put your swords away… Ever since the Duke's reforms, Cintra doesn't lack soldiers anymore. No need to panic…"
"Let's first hear what the notice actually says…"
Many citizens were illiterate. Their eyes burned with curiosity as they watched a man in a robe with a three-claw mark insignia push to the front.
The robed man cleared his throat, and the once-noisy crowd fell silent, ears straining to hear the voice of the Lion from the capital.
"People of Cintra,
In recent days, monsters have appeared in great numbers across our borders, and though the kingdom is slowly recovering…"
The people of Brokilon had expected the document to be about taxes, commerce, or similar affairs.
They quickly realized they had underestimated its significance. The contents were far beyond anything they had imagined.
"Since their very creation, Witchers have been a noble order—a people of sacrifice, a people who forsake themselves for the greater good. Among them rose the likes of the Griffin School, true knights who sought no reward…"
"But likewise, just as Nilfgaard oppressed Cintra, evildoers elsewhere would never allow the rise of those with good intentions. This led to the fragmentation of the Witchers—more and more of them lost their way, and those who remained good received no reward for their virtue."
"Her Majesty Ciri and Duke Lannister both believe: 'One who brings firewood for others must not be left to freeze in the cold.' Rehabilitating the name of Witchers and supporting their development will become one of Cintra's key strategic goals going forward."
In other countries, such a report would surely stir controversy. But in Cintra, the people responded only with approval.
"Proposed by the Duke:
Effective immediately, the Witcher Order shall be reestablished within Cintra, with its headquarters located in the capital.
Every city in Cintra shall establish an official Witcher outpost, offering free lodging to Witchers during missions, and providing standardized subsidies for their daily expenses.
Sheriffs in towns and villages shall collect local information on monsters and may formally apply to the capital for Witchers to be stationed in their regions to eliminate nearby threats and ensure public safety.
For independently undertaken missions, Witchers may request official supervision to ensure proper handover and verification. If a client is unable to pay the commission fee, they may present a certified financial statement to their town or city, and receive a corresponding subsidy based on the nature of the mission.
…"
At this point, there were still no major reactions from the citizens.
They merely marveled that, with these policies, Cintra might soon attract more Witchers like Master Letho, Master Geralt, and Master Gerd.
They rejoiced at the thought of Cintra growing ever stronger.
Some even remarked, "Isn't the Duke himself a Witcher? If danger ever strikes, would he come to protect us personally?"
Many nodded in reverence at the suggestion.
Then, suddenly, the man in the long robe reading the report grew visibly excited and animated.
Had it not been for his duty to finish reading the report, he might have dropped everything right then and rushed to the capital.
"In addition, Duke Lannister issues the following call to action: 'One hunts monsters, the whole family shares in the glory.'
For minors who become Witcher apprentices, the apprentice shall receive a monthly Witcher Stipend of 100 crowns. Their family will receive a 10% tax reduction. Those who complete all Witcher trials will grant their family permanent tax exemption, along with a 'Home of a Witcher' honor plaque issued by the capital.
Certified Witchers who pass all assessments will, based on the number of years they've served as Witchers, receive equal treatment to military officers of corresponding seniority.
Immediate family members of Witchers shall receive priority in military enlistment, school admissions, and official recruitment examinations.
Should an apprentice or Witcher suffer injury or death due to training or a contracted hunt, the royal government will issue a one-time condolence payment of 50,000 crowns and award the family an honorary medal. Direct descendants of the Witcher will be entitled to free education at the academy until adulthood…"
The eyes of the citizens of Brokilon grew brighter with every word. Had they not been so focused on listening, some would've already rushed to find the mayor's secretary or another official to ask how to register to become a Witcher.
"Duke Lannister hereby pledges that the Witcher Trials have been resolved by Royal Advisor Mousesack and are now officially endorsed by the Crown. The royal family guarantees the safety of the trials. Anyone who slanders Witchers or the Witcher Trials will be regarded as insulting the Cintran monarchy and the honor of the Lion and the Lioness."
"In addition, Duke Lannister intends to form the Lion Guard, to be led by Knight House Lionwitcher, composed entirely of selected Witchers…"
...
Cintra, Royal Capital.
Lann stood before a group of Witchers, who were eyeing the report in front of them with complex expressions. A smile curled on his lips.
"So, what do you all think? Unless something unexpected happens, this document should've already spread throughout Cintra. In a little while, it might even reach Novigrad."
Gerd remarked, "I never imagined Witchers would ever be treated this way… If any of our exiled brothers hear of this, I bet they'll be flocking to Cintra. Even the Bears won't hold back."
Kolgrim smacked his lips and muttered, "Apprentices getting 100 crowns a month? Damn… That's what you'd get for killing a griffin in some backwater town."
Sitting beside Geralt, Yennefer chuckled lightly. "Not just that. Tuition and fees for Aretuza are only about 200 crowns per year. With the monthly subsidy, a single Witcher apprentice could afford to sponsor several mage apprentices annually."
Lambert shot back without giving an inch. "Even if the survival rate of the Witcher Trials has improved, training an apprentice is still far more grueling and dangerous than training a sorcerer. And it takes less time. They deserve that level of support."
Yennefer's smile faded into a cold expression.
Caught between his brother and his lover, Geralt looked helplessly from one to the other and could only smile bitterly.
Vesemir and Jerome exchanged glances, then turned toward Lann with a touch of concern. "Isn't this all a bit extravagant?"
Leaning confidently back in his chair, Lann replied, "I'm richer than you think—and I'm only going to get richer in the foreseeable future."
"Besides, the Witcher Trials are still being improved—take the Secondary Mutation, for instance. The strategic value of Witchers will only increase. They're worth every crown."
"If not for the fact that many alchemical ingredients are rare or practically unavailable, I'd already have thrown a fortune into sweeping the markets across the North to give all of you a massive power boost."
Since the one footing the bill had no objections, the other Witchers naturally had nothing more to say.
Jerome thought for a moment. "Then I suppose today's meeting brings us to the final matter—the framework for the future Witcher Order?"
Lann nodded. "But before we begin, I think we should gather everyone first."
With that, he slapped the ground with his palm.
[Teleport]
A flicker of emerald green light burst forth and quickly faded. From within it emerged Coën, dressed in clothing that bore a strong forest motif.
Keldar greeted his apprentice with joy, embracing him warmly. Coën had been healing for quite some time at a spring deep within the Forest of the Dryads, and they hadn't seen each other in a while.
Technically, Coën could've returned long ago, but the dryads had insisted on keeping him a little longer.
…A lot longer.
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