The meeting with Ashe was unexpected but welcome. She had helped Siderius learn more about this world. Knowledge that wouldn't just be available for a commoner like him.
Witchling, Lesser Witch and Major Witch. Each was more powerful and dangerous than the last.
These ranks were different from Siderius' old world. Witches didn't have titles for their rank. They were simply measured by the vastness of their mana pool.
A puddle. A pond. And a lake. The bigger their mana pool, the more powerful they were.
The strongest witch that Siderius had encountered, and possibly the strongest in his world, had the mana pool as vast as the sea. She was the only fourth-ranked witch in his old world.
She was called the Witch Queen and was slain by a very famous witch hunter, the Highlander, Kor Valnec.
After Ashe fell into her slumber, Siderius still sat on his knees. His mind wandered into the dream realm.
He woke up early, before the sun had risen, and left silently, leaving only a note behind.
Siderius had something to do before he got out of this town for good. A small revenge he was plotting all night.
For a witch hunter, their power came from three aspects: The gear, the skill, and the mutation.
There was also the fourth, Alchemy Sigil, that was commonly used with the three aspects, but it belonged to the Alchemist so officially it wasn't an aspect.
The gear was the armor, the weapon, the tool and anything that a witch hunter may use in his hunt.
The skill was the witch hunter's unique expertise. Some were master swordsmen. A few hunted with spears and halberds. There was even a branch that focused on heavy armor.
The last aspect, mutation, was a process of grafting non-human organs onto a witch hunter so that they could gain the unique ability of that organ.
Mutation wasn't simply borrowing power. It absorbed the essence of the grafted beast and in turn, strengthened the power of a witch hunter.
The slit pupils of a cat could help the hunter to operate in both night and day.
The ears of a bat could pinpoint the exact location of anything within its range of hearing.
The feet of a gecko could stick to any surface and help the hunter run on walls like on land.
And many more.
All could turn into abilities for the witch hunter.
The mutation was also how witch hunters ranked themselves. The more mutations you had, the more powerful and higher in ranking you were.
Witch Hunter's mutation began with Extima, the Outer Organs.
Extima consisted of five separated mutations. Each represented an organ on the surface of the body.
The eyes. Oculus Extima. Short as Ocula.
The ears. Sonarus Extima. Short as Sonara.
The nose. Odorus Extima. Short as Odora.
The skin. Tengurus Extima. Short as Tengura.
And the final piece, Ultimus Extima. Short as Ultima.
To walk on the path of a witch hunter, one must choose their mutation wisely. The way they developed their mutation would decide their battle tactics in the future.
Siderius already had a candidate for his first mutation.
Lyara had an owl. An owl as white as snow. Its name was Fluff.
Fluff accompanied Lyara whenever she met Snow. It lingered around long before she had gone to keep an eye on him.
It was a notorious mischief in Mucktown. Everyone knew that it belonged to Lyara. So no one dared to stand up against it. It took fruits from the vendors, farmers and slaves without any hesitation. It landed on kids and pecked their skin out but no one dared to say a thing.
A boy got their eyes blinded by the bird. But his family didn't say anything. After all, they were simply commoners and didn't even have the right for justice.
According to Siderius' analysis, Fluff wasn't just a pet. It was a familiar of Lyara.
In its veins flowed her magic. And if there was anything that would happen to it, Lyara would definitely feel a part of the pain.
Siderius couldn't fulfil his part of the deal right now. But still, he could make a small revenge to ease the boy's soul that was within him.
He was Snow as well. And his rage needed to be quenched.
Siderius knew that Fluff would go out at night to hunt. He saw it many times flying into town at sunrise from the Rottin Woods.
It had a favourite hunting area. A place where it would always be.
So Siderius came to the edge of the Rottin Woods, a location that he knew for sure that the white owl would appear.
Now he needed a bait. The most enticing bait for a malicious owl.
It liked best to play with the weak and it thrived by robbing the poor. So Siderius walked to the path that led into Mucktown. There were a lot of beggars laying around.
He threw an apple for the oldest man then asked for his ragged and smelly cloak.
"You want this? It's yours!"
For a starving man, an apple was worth much more than the dirty cloth on his body.
Siderius put on the cloak and sat beside the beggar. He held an apple inside his hand and waited for the owl.
He stayed still, motionless, as if he was a statue. The other beggars didn't mind him. They didn't dare to speak up when they saw a cold blade strapped on his waist.
Whatever this man was trying to do, it was none of their business. They didn't want any trouble so they ignored him.
Siderius waited patiently. The sun rose and he really thought that maybe it wasn't his lucky day.
Maybe the owl did not go out to hunt that night. And it was all for nothing.
But then he heard it. The noise of an old man laughing. Laughing because he could die of pneumonia at any time. The laugh was low and haunting.
That was the noise of the owl. Siderius looked up, letting the cloak cover half of his face.
He could see it, a perfect white owl with eyes as dark as night.
Siderius took out an apple and raised it to his mouth. He pretended like he was going to bite the apple.
He hoped that the mischievous owl would rob this beggar of his only food because of its own amusement.
If it did, it would pay a price shortly.