Chapter 1 1. The clatter of
Lan 's horse's hooves echoed along the winding, rough road.
This area, neither far nor near the village, was used primarily for plowing.
Dogs barked alertly at the edges of the fields, while cats, as if sensing something, bristled and disappeared.
These creatures are always sensitive to magic and sorcery.
In the direction of the hooves, an old, useless horse carried a young man on its back.
Lan gripped the reins tightly, diligently guiding his mount.
Velen, part of the great northern power Temeria , is the poorest province.
Although the vegetation appears lush and colorful at first glance, any respectable person who spends two hours here will realize that it is a filthy and disgusting place.
Beneath the dense vegetation lies a swampy, miasma-ridden landscape. The abundance of water and grass nourishes numerous creatures, but provides no human comfort.
Perhaps it is more accurate to say that these overflowing, overcrowded "creatures" pose a far greater danger to the common people than the swamps themselves.
The deserted marshes, impoverished villages, ill-mannered peasants, and seemingly random monsters are probably the only impression people have of this place.
A farmer toiling at the edge of a field looked up. The passing stranger was one of the few topics of conversation in his precarious existence.
So he observed him carefully.
His face looked pale and exhausted, but he still remained energetic.
His facial features were clearly different from those of the humans on the mainland: his eye sockets weren't deep, his nose wasn't straight, but he had a delicate appearance and fair skin.
However, compared to the marginalized and discriminated against non-human races like elves, dwarves, and gnomes, he was clearly "human."
Perhaps he was some human from a place so far away that not even the king could urinate there?
That was much better than those damned non-humans.
The farmer, leaning on his hoe, snorted twice, tilted his head, and spat thick phlegm onto the ground.
His cheap blue cotton armor gleamed darkly, and even the cotton at the waistband was transparent. The cowhide boots, without thick soles, were cheap. Although uncomfortable, they were comfortable enough to walk in.
A sword was common in Velen.
But a sword slung over one's back?
Even a farmer knew that no one would carry a sword like a bow.
How was he going to pull it out while hitting someone?
The farmer was about to laugh sarcastically. Although he didn't even have shoes, there weren't many rules for ridicule.
But then he saw the eyes of the approaching young man.
"Cat eyes! You weird mutant!"
The farmer's sarcasm turned to panic, and he screamed, as if he had witnessed a terrible infectious disease, a hideous filth, and
he stepped back repeatedly. He even fell backward, his arms and legs still moving backward.
The witcher's distinguishing feature: cat eyes.
Ancient human sorcerers created these mutant warriors to purify monsters. Their once-noble vision and profession have become a plague in modern eyes.
Lan let out a barely perceptible sigh, his mind grumbling: Come on, the magical Middle Ages are still the Middle Ages.
Ignorance always accompanies malice.
His feline amber eyes glanced sideways at the farmer on the ground.
Then Lan began to tighten the reins, bringing the horse under control.
The old horse was docile, not strong. But he was also hungry, and he'd only been riding for a week.
If being thrown onto a horse and then whipped mid-ride counted as "learning," then so did he.
" Shhhhhh !"
The farmer's dog, black and white, was loyal.
Even when the old horse's hoof could have crushed him, he kept running through the gaps in the hooves toward his master.
Lan made an immense effort to keep the faithful dog unharmed.
He was even a little breathless from hunger.
But seeing the pup leap towards its master, he breathed a sigh of relief.
Just as the dog was about to pounce on its master, a thin black shadow brushed against Lan 's legs .
" Whoosh !"
"Ow!"
The sharp, icy sound pierced the air, and the lively, loyal dog burst into blood and screams.
A crossbow bolt.
had pierced the lower back and exited diagonally through his chest. Instead of reaching his master, the dog, its convulsing body, crashed into the farmer's feet.
The farmer was stunned.
Lan 's slightly relaxed expression suddenly tensed, turning icy; his body and the old horse's froze.
A tall, imposing figure, mounted on an equally sturdy horse, slowly passed Lan.
The man, with his bushy beard and hair, looked like a humanoid brown bear.
But his expressionless face was like an emotionless block of ice.
Two swords hung on his back.
He wore a solid and intricate composite armor.
Armor of chainmail, leather, iron, and cotton were alternately assembled, forming a tunic that reached his calf.
A pendant in the shape of a roaring bear's head swung around his neck as the horse strode.
His eyes, however, were identical to Lan En's: amber cat eyes.
The man bent over his horse's back and, as he passed a farmer, grabbed the tail of the crossbow and dragged the dog's body out of the field.
It was hard to imagine that someone burdened with at least thirty kilograms of armor could make such fluid and agile movements.
The dog's body was still twitching nervously, and the agonizing wails emanating from its mouth were heartbreaking and miserable.
But he didn't even look at it.
With a huff, he pulled the crossbow from its body, wiped it with the writhing dog's fur, and put it in his pocket.
Then he threw the dog's body directly at Lan En.
The worn cotton armor was even dirtier.
The young man felt his life slipping from his grasp.
He still couldn't get used to the feeling. To preserve the echoes of his past life, he refused to lose his sensitivity.
But Lan 's jaw muscles twitched just a hair, so slightly it was almost an illusion.
Then, like the man himself, the expression on his handsome face faded.
" Boldon , what are you going to do with him?"
"He's our lunch."
Boldon 's voice was as calm as his expression.
"Dog, easy to catch."
Dogs are a genetic compromise with humans. Even if humans don't like dogs, they find them cute or agile.
At the very least, they treat them with special affection. But Boldon 's words treated them as if they were just a piece of meat.
Lan 's icy face showed no sign of changing as he urged his horse to catch up. "We shouldn't draw any more attention to ourselves, Boldon . You know what happens."
Lan 's hands trembled slightly, but that didn't stop him from hooking the dog's body onto the saddle hook.
The hook was common in butcher shops, used to hook meat for hanging or transport.
Among witches, it was most often used to hang trophies.
Bordon seemed alerted by Lan 's words . His steady gaze shifted to the collapsed farmer in the field.
The farmer's trousers instantly dampened.
"You're right, they're looking for me, so..."
With a creak of his composite armor, he dismounted. Instead of drawing the sword from his back, he drew the dagger from his chest.
He intended to kill.
Lan recognized him immediately.
And he knew very well that, for an emotionless warlock , whose life was only driven by money and physical needs, killing a living human to hide his tracks was not something he would hesitate to do.
The young man, equally expressionless, dismounted his old horse and trotted towards Bordon .
The farmer, however, seemed to still have some courage left. He gripped the hoe tightly, his expression almost shattered.
Although he was too scared to stand, he still possessed a certain intimidating power.
"Wait, Bordon !"
Lan stopped him when he was two meters from the farmer.
The boy was careful not to touch his armor, remembering that Bordon had broken three branches the last time he touched it.
If there was a next time, he said he would cut off one of Bordon 's hands. To him, this Bear School armor was far more valuable than he was.
"Let's stop for a moment. We can't just kill him. Killing a person leaves a trace, doesn't it?"
Even so, Lan stopped Bordon .
His expression was still indifferent, as if he cared nothing for the farmer's life and was thinking only of his journey.
Bordon 's face went still, and after a moment of reflection, he put away his dagger.
The witcher's mutation deprived him of his emotions, but not his brain.
Lan turned his head and breathed a sigh of relief.
After a brief reflection, Bordon looked away from the farmer and back at Lan , then suddenly spoke:
"How's your Axis Sign coming along?"
It's one of the five magic tricks warlocks use to disturb a creature's mind.
Lan turned his head; his cat-like eyes suddenly narrowed before returning to normal.
Lan giró la cabeza; sus ojos felinos se entrecerraron de repente antes de volver a la normalidad.
By the time he and Bordon met each other's gaze, there was no trace left.
"No, I'm not very competent. I barely have time to practice. You're the one who organizes the training, you know."
Lan 's tone was natural and even.
"Yes." Bordon scratched his bushy beard and nodded. "For now, familiarize yourself with the Sign of Quen ."
The Sign of Quen protects against physical harm.
The man walked past Lan , and this time the boy didn't block his way.
Behind him, a faint magical aura shimmered, and the farmer's nervous expression froze.
"You haven't seen anyone. Your dog ran off into the woods alone, and you didn't dare enter."
Bordon 's words sounded calm, as if scripted.
After a weak nod from the farmer, he walked past Lan without hesitation and turned around.
Lan followed him, delayed by his clumsy mount for a few seconds.
Boldon knew how unskilled the boy was at riding, so he didn't look back.
But at that moment, the boy's cat-like eyes fell on the stunned farmer, and his left hand made a subtle gesture.
A magical aura condensed into an inverted triangle before his gesture.
It was a Shaft sigil rune, ripe and complete !
The farmer's cloudy, confused gaze suddenly changed.
"Good luck, you bastard."
"Oh, no good." He withdrew his gaze, and Lan 's mounting motion was light and silent. Perhaps only the finest rider in the world would be able to control the horse like this. The amber cat-like eyes narrowed slightly in the backlit shadows, with that calm determination... like a tiger on the hunt!
"Good luck to you both."