"[Witcher (4220/1800)]"
The class column on the panel had changed to Witcher. The experience required for the next level had also increased from 1000 to 1800. Fortunately, after two intense battles, Aldric had accumulated far more combat experience than that amount.
He clicked "Level Up" on the panel, and a new system message appeared before his eyes:
"Your Witcher level has increased to: Level 2."
"You have acquired a new class skill: [Weapon Specialization]."
[Weapon Specialization: Since the discovery of Valyrian steel, the traditional dual-sword fighting style of Witchers—steel and silver—has been broken. A single Valyrian steel weapon has not only freed the Witcher's hands, but also their minds. You may now select one weapon as your specialized weapon. When wielding that weapon type, your proficiency adjustment is treated as +1.]
Aldric's character interface now displayed:
Name: Aldric Xune
Race: Human, Loess Branch (Racial Trait: Experience ×1.1)
Level: 2
Status: Severely Injured
Class: Witcher Lv.2 (2420/7200)
Attributes:
Strength: 14
Dexterity: 16
Constitution: 16
Intelligence: 14
Perception: 14
Charisma: 12
Talents:
[Weapon Mastery] (Starting Talent)
[Still Water, Clear Mind] (Starting Talent)
[Lightning Reflexes] (Starting Talent)
[Enemy of Chaos] (Starting Talent)
[Immune to All Diseases:Through extreme physical mutation, you have gained not only a powerful physique, but immunity to most natural and magical diseases.] (Class Talent)
[Low-Light Vision:Even by the dimmest candlelight, you can read an entire book.] (Class Talent)
Basic Skills:
(Basic abilities granted by your class; their effectiveness is determined by your relevant attributes and daily training)
Strength: Climbing, Jumping, Swimming
Dexterity: Rolling, Riding, Balancing
Constitution: Concentration
Intelligence: Knowledge (Monsters, Arcane, Geography, History), Spell Identification, Crafting
Perception: Wilderness Survival, Insight, Listen
Charisma: Intimidation
Class Skills:
[Sign]: Aard Sign (Basic) (0/30)
[Weapon Specialization] (Cannot be Upgraded)
Remaining Skill Points: 32
Weapon Proficiency:
Scimitar — Proficient (4/800)
Bastard Sword — Proficient (21/800)
Character Background:
As an adventurer drawn by a high bounty to the Far South Colonies, you destroyed an orc vanguard camp the very same day, earning the title of "Brave Cerysian" from the survivors. Your heroic actions also saved the life of the Witcher, Gonz Alagon. Risking life and death, you passed the Trial of the Grasses and officially became an apprentice Witcher.
After familiarizing himself with his updated character panel, Aldric allocated all of his remaining skill points into his sole class skill—Aard Sign—upgrading it from "Aard Sign (Basic) (0/30)" to "AardSign (Trained) (32/100)."
…
Dawn was just breaking when Witcher Gonz awoke from meditation. The echoing snores of several sailors filled the cave, while the men assigned to keep watch stretched lazily, shaking off the chill of the fading night.
Gonz whistled softly. A moment later, the white wolf that had disappeared into the forest last night came running back. Once the mount of a half-orc, the massive creature was nearly two meters long, its shoulders almost level with a man's chest when on all fours. The two sailors on watch stiffened immediately as it appeared.
Gonz crouched, pressing his ear close to the wolf's head as if listening to something. He gave the wolf's head a firm rub. "Good boy."
Captain Rockfell had also awakened. He roughly kicked each sleeping sailor awake one by one, while nearby, Ted had already ventured into the forest with the only uninjured crewman to scavenge for breakfast.
Before long, the secluded cave hidden in the jungle became lively again.
When Aldric awoke from his deep sleep, a campfire was already crackling near the cave entrance. Some sailors had caught fish from the stream, while Ted's group had returned with rabbits and pheasants. The savory aroma of roasted meat filled Aldric's nose.
"After several hours of rest, you have gained 120 Life Experience points. May the player have new gains today."
The floating system prompt across his retina snapped him out of immersion. If not for that message, he might have completely believed he had truly crossed into another world of flesh and blood.
Feeling that his injuries had mostly recovered, Aldric leaned on the wall for support and walked to the cave entrance. Terry and another wounded sailor—his knee still pierced by an arrow—were roasting meat together. Though they lacked any seasoning, the golden-brown meat was mouthwateringly tempting.
He looked around the camp. Captain Rockfell was grooming his beard carefully beside the stream. Ted was a bit downstream, burying the animal entrails to prevent the smell from attracting predators. Meanwhile, Gonz stood alone upstream, polishing his longsword.
Refusing the piece of roasted meat Terry offered him, Aldric walked over to where the Witcher stood.
The rising sun cast golden rays over Gonz's form, highlighting the rugged muscles and the deep scars that crisscrossed his back—each one a silent testament to countless battles fought between life and death.
The Witcher drew his sword from the water, wiped the blade clean, then used the reflection on the water's surface as a mirror. Carefully, he pressed the sharp blade against his cheek and slowly drew it down toward his jaw.
Aldric couldn't help himself anymore. "Sir, isn't it a bit much to use the Claw to shave?"
The longsword in Gonz's hand did not tremble in the slightest. His movements were steady as a mountain. Despite the weapon weighing nearly ten pounds, the knight's hand was unshakable as he completed the shaving ritual with perfect precision. When he was done, he dipped the sword back into the stream, letting the gentle current wash away the traces of foam and hair.
"Witchers have never been sticklers for manners. Our order doesn't bother with too many rules." Gonz turned his head with a grin, the sunlight gleaming off his teeth. "This sword has been passed down in the Wolf School of Witchers for centuries. The day you can use this blade to shave a man's head bald—that's the day your swordsmanship will be deemed acceptable."
Aldric could only stare blankly at him. For a man so solemn, the witcher had a remarkable talent for talking nonsense.
Gonz's tone turned serious. "Back to business. I came to the Black Forest tracking a Chaos Warlock. That sorcerer is clearly involved in some secret dealings with the greenskins." He looked Aldric in the eye. "As a new apprentice, you must understand this—whether it's orcs, trolls, or undead, they are all our enemies. But Chaos… Chaos is our greatest and most dangerous foe!"
"Anything connected to Chaos is perilous beyond measure. And those who worship Chaos… are the most dangerous of all!" Gonz's voice carried a rare intensity.
"I understand, Master," Aldric replied with equal seriousness. His innate talent [Enemy of Chaos] seemed to confirm just that—Chaos was definitely this world's ultimate villain faction.
Gonz ran his hand lovingly along his sword's edge. "We need to leave this place soon and report that the orcs have dealings with Chaos."
When they returned to camp, everyone gathered around the fire to enjoy their roasted meal. Ted rummaged through his pack and handed Aldric a small metal bottle sealed with a cork. "Take this. It's mineral salt from Rogue Camp. I found it while retrieving our weapons. In the forest, as long as you have salt, you'll never truly lack for anything."
Aldric accepted the spice bottle with gratitude. Then he suddenly remembered something—he still had Captain Rockfell's flask tucked in his pack. He took it out and offered it back. "Captain, I found this on the ship. I'm returning it to you."
The captain took the flask, tracing the embedded gemstones with a nostalgic look. "This was a gift from the shipowner when I first became captain. Didn't expect the ship to end this way…" He sighed deeply. Then he smiled faintly. "Keep it, brave Cerysian. A find from a shipwreck belongs to the one who discovered it. That's the law of the sea."
Aldric quietly nodded and pocketed the flask again, saying nothing more.
After breakfast, morale had visibly lifted. Terry, whose leg was still injured, was carried on the white wolf's back. The ship's doctor had miraculously survived and managed to preserve Terry's leg with herbs; as long as he avoided strenuous movement, a priest could heal him completely once they returned to town. As for Aldric, thanks to his high Constitution, he could already keep pace with the others without help.
Ted estimated that reaching Port Anthony would take about two days on foot, perhaps half a day longer if they needed to detour around Rogue Camp. Everyone longed to return to civilization as soon as possible, so they decided to head toward Rogue Camp first to scout the situation.
However, half a day into their journey, under the Witcher's worried gaze, a thick mist began to spread from the forest behind them—rolling in silently, swallowing the trees one by one.
(End of Chapter)
TN: Oooohhh maybe Warhammer Fantasy too?