The Divine Hunter Chapter 115

Was that a dream? Am I waking up now? When Roy finally recovered from the Ice Lake Virus, he could vaguely remember the thrilling sensation he felt back then. It was silky smooth and deliciously plump. What on earth happened?

Coral acted as if nothing had happened. As usual, she teased him, much to Roy's relief, but at the same time, he was dejected. I was probably imagining things.

A week of rest followed. He used that time to read up on the basics of magic under Coral's guidance, but to little effect. He did learn some basics about chaos energy, though. Once he regained his vitality, the third and fourth viral infection arrived. After what had happened before, the infections didn't cause a lot of trouble for Roy. His immune system had a total overhaul after the fourth infection, making his skin smoother, his features sharper, and his vitality stronger.

Coral tuned him up with magic, making sure he was in top condition for the trial.

It had been two months and eighteen days since Roy had come to the temple. The morning was lovely, and dewdrops fell from the leaves onto the ground, seeping into the earth. Coral and Roy went into the lab for the final part of the trial — the Trial of the Grasses.

Coral had told Nenneke, Iola, and even Letho to stay away from the lab. If the trial ended in failure, then that was it for Roy. Before that though, Dennis Cranmer came to see Letho with a request, so Roy gave Gwyhyr to the witcher for that. He would only know about the details of the request after the trial.

The door was tightly shut, then Coral snapped her fingers, and bright lights turned on in the corners of the hall, illuminating the lab. A few empty bottles were laid out in a row on the operating table, and there were some materials lying on it. Some of it included the spinal fluid of forktails, the poison glands of manticores, and albino bruxa tongues. There were also herbs like bryonia, ribleaf, and mandrake.

And then Coral said, “Roy, a reminder. What you went through before was just a process to build your foundation for the third step. This will be the hardest and most crucial part. Most would-be witchers fail at this step. You have to be prepared to face the pain.”

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Roy nodded calmly. He thought the virus was the hardest part of it, so the third part should be nothing.

“But before that, you have a choice to make.” She licked her lips. “According to Letho's recipe and… Lytta Neyd's 'Supplementary Research on the Trial of the Grasses,' there are three potions you have to take, namely Mother's Tears, Wildrye Juice, and Speargrass Sap. You can choose the concentration you want to take. The lowest concentration will have lesser red, green, and blue mutagens mixed in them in the ratio of two to two to one. The moderate concentration will have the usual mutagens in them, while the highest concentration will have three greater mutagens, including the blue mutagen you got from the leshen.”

“Does the potions' concentration affect the amplification effects?” Roy asked.

“Yes, and the more concentrated it is, the more lethal it will be for you. The choice is yours.” She pursed her lips. “You should take the low concentration potions, or the moderate ones at the most. You should pass the trial with your current physique.”

Roy refused the recommendation. “I'll take the high concentration ones.” His EXP bar was full, so he could activate Full Recovery again. If he didn't risk it, it would hurt his prospects in life.

Coral was in a dilemma. She was stressed, and she wanted to dissuade Roy, but when she tried to say something, she hesitated and sighed. She made a few magical circles in the air and chanted, then the bottles and ingredients flew up into the air. The light of magic became an invisible hand, creating the Decoction of the Grasses on the spot.

Roy downed a few potions. They tasted bitter, rancid, sour, and indescribable in some parts. Once he was done, Roy burped, then squinted, his eyes losing their focus. He fell onto the operating theater and started muttering gibberish.

“How are you doing, Roy?” Coral huddled closer, sounding worried.

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“Coral… Lytta Neyd…” His tongue was swollen, and it slurred his speech. He beckoned her, and she came even closer.

“I'm right here.”

“Do you…” He burped. “Do you know Geralt from the Wolf School?”

“Why are you talking about him all of a sudden?” Coral frowned in disgust. “He's Yennefer's ex-boyfriend, and a shameless manwhore at that,” she commented.

“Letho… He's crossed the line. I kept thrusting, doing backflips, blocking the attacks, rolling around, and I even spun around. I… I am not a circus performer.” Roy was spiraling down a staircase of illusion, spewing delusions as he went. “I… I'll get a manor… And then… And then I'll make… make him janitor. H-he'll clean… clean all the toilets.”

That made Lytta laugh happily, then she patted his cheeks. “I'll tell him about that when I get the chance.”

Roy's voice trailed off, then he lost consciousness. Coral touched his forehead. It's scalding.

Then he started vomiting, staining the ground with the remains of his food and blood. The stench made Coral frown. She clenched her fists, her hands trembling.

That wasn't the end of it. Roy opened his eyes, looking crazed. His eyes were bloodshot, and he gripped Coral's hand, mumbling. “D-don't leave me.”

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“I won't. I'll always be here.” She hesitated for a moment, then she held him in her embrace, patting his back. She gazed at him, then Roy was calm once more.

But not for long.

He stiffened, then started to convulse. Unintelligible screams and gurgles reverberated throughout the lab, then when he stopped screaming, he started foaming blood. His face was purple, his eyes unfocused. The seizures went on for a while, occurring every couple of hours or so. It stopped on the tenth day, then Roy fell into a coma. His eyes were out of focus, his hands gripping tightly at his shirt, squirming around, clawing for something. His breathing became harsher and louder, while cold, sticky, rancid sweat poured from his whole body.

Half a month later, Coral fed him the potions again, inducing seizures. Once that was done, he started bleeding from his nose, coughing incessantly, and vomited without stopping, though he could only cough up bile and water.

One month later, Roy's blood and sweat flowed down to the ground, and he started losing all his hair. First, it was his eyebrows, then his hair. Eventually, he became as bald as Letho. And his head probably had a brighter future than all of us.

After that, Roy stopped moving, for he was exhausted. It was as if he were a corpse. The symptoms didn't improve over the next few days. Even though he was sweating profusely, he was still scalding. His pulse was normal though, albeit slower than most people's.

After staying in that state for two months, a golden light flashed in the operating theater, and Roy's gaunt body turned fuller almost immediately.

Then, he opened his eyes, but no longer were they human. The shade was a dark gold, and the pupils were horizontal slits, as if they belonged to a beast.

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Book Three: The End

Chapter end