Chapitre 1: 1. The Witcher’s Memoir
1179 AD, Late Autumn.
Kaer Morhen, Apprentice Training Ground.
"Allen, what are you daydreaming about?"
The stern reprimand snapped Allen out of his reverie. A middle-aged man wearing a wide-brimmed black hat was glaring at him with golden cat-like eyes.
"Sorry, Master Vesemir." Allen apologized properly. "I just got distracted."
Upon hearing the apology, Vesemir nodded and glanced at the four apprentices sitting cross-legged around him, then continued his lecture.
"Apprentices, when dealing with drowners, your silver sword is always your best friend…"
Pure monster knowledge was dull, and Vesemir's teaching style for "Monsterology" was very straightforward.
Before long, Allen's mind wandered again. Allen was a transmigrant from Blue Star. His original name was Lin Ai, 30 years old, an orphan. Before his transmigration, he was a middle management employee in a company.
The title of middle management sounded prestigious, but in reality, he was just a scapegoat for the executives and a pawn for the higher-ups. Before soul-transmigrating to the Witcher world, Lin Ai had just been promoted and spent four sleepless nights finalizing a big project.
Smoothly, the fruits of his labor were reaped by a mascot who had parachuted into the team a week earlier. This mascot, whose background was unknown, was busy watching movies and reading novels in the office, and his rank was promoted two levels.
Lin Ai and his team, having no background, each received a cup of milk tea as hush money and had to fake smiles to thank the boss for the gesture.
After all, With the mascot's double promotion, he replaced the retiring old leader and became their new superior. Lin Ai had grown accustomed to such grievances. But what he never expected was that the cup of 12 yuan milk tea from the mascot would transmigrate him to the Witcher world.
One moment he was tasting industrial saccharin, the next he was swallowing a stinky, bitter, and viscous herbal potion. What followed was the agony of muscle spasms and dissolving pain all over his body, along with an influx of memory that made his brain feel like it was exploding…
Recalling the painful memories from three days ago, Lin Ai shivered instinctively.
Although he had cleared the game "The Witcher 3" during his leisure time, Allen never imagined becoming a witcher one day.
"The Trial of the Grasses with over a fifty percent mortality rate is next month," Allen sighed inwardly.
As Allen pondered how to survive in this dangerous world, a cold mechanical voice suddenly sounded, and a blood-red transparent panel appeared before him.
[Witcher's Memoir Activated]
[Hunting monsters can earn rewards; the stronger the monster, the greater the reward]
[Acquired Special Skill: Witcher LV1]
"Since transmigration happened, having a system doesn't seem that strange," Allen thought.
The panel had only one option, "Character."
Following the received information, Allen activated the character panel with a thought.
[Name: Allen]
[Age: 13]
[Title: Child of Miracle]
[Level: 1]
[Health: 100%, Stamina: 52/52]
[Attributes: Strength 5.1, Agility 5.3, Constitution 5.2, Perception 6.9, Mystery 3.1]
[Special Skill: Witcher LV1]
[Skill: Wolf School Two-Handed Sword LV1 (0/100)]
[Evaluation: Weak!!!]
(Special skills will only upgrade with character level.)
[Witcher (Active): Consumes 50 stamina, concentrates spirit to enter Witcher state, meeting conditions triggers a fatal strike (guaranteed to kill the monster)]
Allen: Weak?
Is this panel mocking me?
After some inner grumbling, Allen silently closed the panel.
The system seemed good, and the given Witcher skill looked quite powerful.
But there was a crucial issue.
Where to find monsters?
Allen had just passed the Trial of the Grasses three days ago, with the Trial of the Mountains a month away. In this month, he couldn't even leave Kaer Morhen's gate, where would he find monsters to hunt?
"Allen!"
"You're daydreaming again!"
Vesemir slammed his copy of "Drowners and Swamp Hags" shut. This lesson couldn't continue. Of the four apprentices, three were daydreaming. The last apprentice wasn't daydreaming but wasn't paying attention either. His small body was hiding behind Allen, almost nodding off.
What was he thinking?
Sleeping in this place?
The apprentice training ground was right beside the main road to the castle; even if he couldn't see, didn't other witchers notice?
"Very well! It seems you no longer need to learn about drowners; let's proceed to practical combat!" Vesemir shouted to his side, "Letho!"
Nearby, a witcher leaning against the castle wall, arms crossed, nodded and pulled the black cloth off a cage beside him. Inside the cage, a blue-skinned humanoid creature with dorsal fins screamed as sudden sunlight hit it.
A drowner.
As soon as the cloth was removed, Vesemir and Letho's wolf medallions began to hum violently.
"Rejoice, apprentices!" Vesemir pressed his medallion and continued, "Having just completed the Trial of the Grasses, you get to face a monster safely, a privilege only Wolf School apprentices enjoy."
"Those cat school scum only teach their apprentices to kill each other and to miserably dig out the last coin from a dead man's stinking boot."
Apparently satisfied with his rhetoric and having dissed the competition, Vesemir's gaze softened toward the apprentices. He handed Allen a steel sword and old apprentice leather armor.
"Come on, Allen, put on the armor, grip your sword, and show me if your arrogance matches your strength."
Allen had no time to argue as the other apprentices quickly stuffed him into the leather armor. In a daze, his feet were soon on the sandy training ground. A crowd surrounded the training ground. They were passing-by adult witchers curious about the commotion.
"Ready, Allen?"
Just as Allen was about to speak, he heard the familiar mechanical voice.
"Ding, main quest discovered: [Beginning of the Witcher's Path] Kill one drowner (0/1)."
He swallowed back his words of defense.
"It's just a drowner, nothing to fear," Allen thought.
He gripped the steel sword, took a deep breath, and nodded firmly at Vesemir.
"Ready."
"Very well!" Vesemir uncharacteristically smiled.
At that moment, witcher Letho, pushing the cage, arrived beside Vesemir.
Vesemir opened the cage, slightly sidestepped to avoid the drowner's pounce, and made a quick hand gesture with his right hand.
Aard Sign.
This was one of the witcher's six magical signs, a kinetic blast used to push, stun, or knock down opponents, and to break obstacles.
Under the visible shockwave, the ugly creature rolled like a ball to Allen's feet. The drowner, shrieking, hadn't yet risen. Allen gripped the steel sword, intending to strike while it was down.
At that moment, Vesemir's voice suddenly came to his ear.
"First mistake—weapon!"
"I just taught that a silver sword is always your best partner against drowners."
Allen:?
Didn't you just give me this steel sword?
.....
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone