The Divine Hunter Chapter 365

Chapter 365: First Lesson

[TL: Asuka]

[PR: Ash]

A dash of grey appeared on the horizon, heralding the coming of dawn. Monti's sleep was abruptly disturbed by a sharp whistle, and his new friend, Carl, came into his room, dragging him off his warm, lovely bed.

He was changed into a new set of clothes made of wool, hemp, and beast hide, though it was a bit oversized for him. And then he changed into a pair of sturdy brown leather boots before he set off to the yard with Carl.

A bald, burly man was already waiting for them in the center of the yard. He looked at the boys coolly and announced, “Begin.”

Frosty winds howled through the yard, and a shivering Monti was found stretching his body under the bald man's guidance. He stretched his thighs, calves, back, chest, and waist, all the while moving his neck and ankles.

For the most part of his life, Monti was running away from one place to another. It had been a long time since he had proper exercise, and the boy was already sweating a small while later.

“Relax your neck and straighten your back, Monti. You're a boy. Don't hunch your back like a geezer, or you'll be shit out of luck with the ladies.” The bald man pushed down on Monti's back. Just like magic, the boy's posture was corrected.

About fifteen minutes of warm up later, Monti seemed like he had just gotten out of a bath, but he was no longer sleepy.

The bald man then gave him a choice, much to his curiosity. “You decide what to do next. Either you run around the yard a few times or train with Carl. You make the call,” he emphasized.

Monti mustered up his courage and asked. “Is there any difference between the two?” 

The man's feline eyes might look scary, but Monti thought he could trust the guy. Gently, the man said, “The first one is just regular exercise. It'll train you up and keep any illnesses away from you.” Letho explained, “The second one is witcher apprentice training. It sharpens your movements and senses, making it easier for you to stay out of harm's way and counter your enemies, but it's a lot harder than regular exercise. Don't worry about it. Take your time to make the choice. Depending on what you choose, your classes and even your fate might take a different path.”

Monti had no idea what the man was talking about. He mused over it for a moment and eventually picked the second choice. Carl was staring at him with sparkling eyes, after all. Monti just got here, and he instinctively went with his friend's suggestion.

Letho heaved a sigh of relief in silence and led the boys to the south yard, where a row of stakes was standing.

Monti and Carl weaved through the space between the stakes like two mice that were being hunted down by a big, ugly cat. They spun and turned all the way from the first stake to the last, and then they did the same thing from the last stake to the first.

This was harder than regular running. It only took ten minutes for Monti to heave and look like he just came out of the bath again. Carl, however, weaved through the obstacles easily and went at twice the speed Monti was. The young apprentice even told his friend he could give up anytime he wanted.

That only stoked the flames in Monti's soul. They were both eight, and he thought he could do whatever Carl could. In the end, he kept weaving across the stakes for twenty more minutes before he found himself out of breath and strength. Sweat was pouring down his chin, drenching the ground.

Letho nodded. His body needs work, but at least his will is strong enough. Guess he didn't survive the streets all by himself for nothing. We can improve his body through training and potions, but if he was a weak-willed bastard, it'd be hard to change.

Monti rested for ten minutes before going into the third exercise—standing on one leg. His back and neck were upright, and his hands were in prayer. He would also put one leg on the knee of the other, not unlike a rooster. And then he would also have to be blindfolded.

The bald man said this could train his speed, reaction, and balance. It was a suitable exercise for undeveloped children like them.

Monti couldn't even maintain his balance. On his first try, he lasted for five whole seconds before he started to wobble and almost fall like a bamboo buffeted by a gale. But Monti wasn't discouraged. Carl was doing the same thing on a stake as if he were trying to brag.

His eyes were closed, and he looked as calm and stable as a stone statue. More shockingly, Carl leveled up the difficulty by leaping across the stakes. He would even spin around in midair, as if leaping around on one leg wasn't hard enough. And then to make things even harder, Carl would swing his practice sword around like a reindeer passing through a forest, smashing everything in his way.

Monti wanted to be able to do that someday. The boy gritted his teeth and tried the exercise for half an hour before he could finally last for twenty seconds. An hour and a half had passed since the morning exercise started.

Letho nodded at the boy, who was red and out of breath. “That's enough, boy. You passed, for a newbie,” he said calmly. Nothing Monti did manage to impress him. “But you didn't complain even once. You're a man.”

Monti felt himself tearing up and holding his rumbling stomach.

“That's all for today. You must be hungry.”

Carl led him into the room, and the first thing Monti smelled was the aroma of meat. He gulped, and what he saw petrified him with surprise and shock. The boy looked like he was struck by lightning.

There was a feast on the table. Potatoes and stewed meat, baked bread, fresh crabs taken from Novigrad's ports, lobsters, and a lot of other stuff. A fat lady was sitting on the chair at the doorstep, smiling warmly at him like he was her family.

The meat stew he had the night before was already a luxury for Monti, but what he saw now was something like the Eternal Fire's blessing. No, Monti lost his faith in the Eternal Fire. This is the blessing of House of Gawain!

“W-We get to have breakfast?” he asked, his voice shivering.

Most families in Novigrad only had two meals a day. Once in the afternoon, and some light snacking at night. It was an unwritten rule and a tactic to save money.

“Most rules don't apply to us. If you're hungry, you eat. You can't train if you don't fuel your body.” Carl wiped his sweat away and filled a bowl with meat stew covered in basil leaves, turnips, carrots, and potatoes. And then he picked up a piece of bread drenched in soup before handing those to Monti. “Don't worry about it. We're young, and we need food. Starving ourselves is absolutely out of the question.”

Monti took the bowl, but instead of wolfing it down, he asked carefully, “Why are you so nice to me? I have nothing, and I'm an idiot who knows nothing. Even the beggars hate me.”

Not even the orphanage run by the church on their island itself provided this much to the kids. The witchers saved me from the brink of death and treated me like family. What are they up to?

“Don't you get it, Monti? The moment you join this household, we're already a family.” Carl told him what Felix asked him to. “And we don't abandon family. We help them.”

Family? Monti's jaw dropped, revealing a row of teeth with big cracks between every tooth. He teared up and fell into a stupor, still in disbelief about everything he was seeing. Ever since his parents died, nobody told him he was their family.

Like Felix ordered, Carl observed Monti's reaction quietly and told him, “Don't get sentimental.” He sipped some stew. “So, how's training? Can you hold on?”

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“It's a lot easier than begging for food in the city.” Monti sniffled and shook his head. He wolfed down the bread and held his tears back.

“It'll only get harder and fiercer from now on.”

“Still better than being a beggar.”

“Don't forget what you said.”

After breakfast, it was time for another class, but the guy who trained them in the morning was nowhere to be found. Instead, a man with short brown hair and a scar shaped like a lightning bolt on his face appeared.

“Carl, Monti, there are a few rules you have to follow in this household, or things might get out of hand. You might be the first kid here, but no bullying the ones who come later, understand? I want to hear you loud and clear!”

“Yes, sir!”

“And you'll have to follow the teachers' orders. No throwing tantrums or making things difficult.”

Monti and Carl were seated in a classroom, listening quietly to Eskel's lecture. Sometimes Eskel would write something down on the yellowing wooden board in front of him with a charcoal pencil.

Monti had some education before thanks to his father. He could read a little and could see Eskel was writing in Northern Common Speech. Compared to the private tutor his father hired, Eskel's classes were more entertaining. His lectures were never boring. Even an insignificant little letter or phrase could have an interesting story behind it. Monti was engrossed in the classes before he knew it.

And then it was time for survival class. This time, their teacher was the man with red eyes and scorched skin. Monti was scared for his life the first time he saw the man. He kept his gaze downward, refusing to have eye contact, lest the man pounced at him like a drowner.

Kiyan noticed Monti's reaction, but he didn't mind. Softly, he told the boys about the ways of survival. Just like Eskel, he was a great storyteller, and Monti eventually let go of his fear of Kiyan's appearance.

“The House of Gawain is built in a forest. It's possible to run into various beasts, and there are a few you need to look out for. For example, if you two were to enter the forest by accident and run into a hungry boar and a pack of drooling, growling wolves, what would you do?”

“I'm gonna run!” Monti answered without hesitation. The story had captivated him. “And I'm going to shout for help.”

Kiyan shook his head and spared Monti a look of pity. The boy noticed that look, and his breathing stopped for a moment.

“Sorry, but you're already dead. Look at yourself. Your arms and legs are barely thicker than a wooden stick. Even a rabbit can run faster than you. The beasts will catch up to you in mere moments and tear you to shreds. What would you do, Carl?”

“I'll climb up a tree.” Carl puffed his chest confidently. “And then I'll shout for help. One of you will eventually come to me.”

“You're not a total fool. Looks like all the training didn't go to waste.” Kiyan nodded. “But it's winter now, and beasts don't move around as much. You won't run into any beasts as long as you don't venture into the forest.”

Kiyan laid out an orangish-yellow flower with oval leaves in front of them. “Guess what this is.”

“Chrysanthemum?” Monti sniffed the air. The flower smelled like a certain spice his family used to sell. The petals were almost the same color as well.

“Sunflower?” Carl grinned.

Kiyan smacked his head. “You don't see sunflowers in full bloom during winters! Did you sleep off Felix's herbalism class?”

Carl begged, “Please, don't tell Master about this, Kiyan.”

“That depends on you. Monti was partially correct.”

Delighted, Monti swung his fists.

“This is a marigold. Part of the daisy family and one of nature's blessings.” Kiyan wrote down the flower's name on the board. “If you were to get lost in the wilderness and have nothing to eat, this can stave off your hunger for a bit. If you get scratched, grind this down and consume part of it. Use the remaining petals on the wound to stave off inflammation. Now eat this and remember how it tastes.”

The first day of class was split into three parts: morning training, arts and science class, and survival class.

Monti was delighted and in disbelief. Not only could he train his body and learn more about the world, but he could also have great food to boot. It felt just like a dream to him. Is this really something a boy like me can enjoy?

When the sun finally set beyond the horizon and dusk had descended, eight witchers were found discussing the next day's arrangements around the bonfire, while the youngest witcher entered the dark woods, taking nothing but a suspiciously sentient owl with him.

Carl came back to the room after an hour of extra training and lay down on the big bed. He kept talking about his ambitions, how powerful witchers could be, and how they led their lives. He kept smiling at Monti, and the stories planted a seed in Monti's soul. I wonder if I can be as carefree as Carl if I become a witcher.

He had a strange dream that night. In that dream, he saw a man with greyish-green eyes in front of Carl, drawing something in the air. His hand was locked in a strange gesture, and the man seemed to be muttering something under his breath.

A man with white hair was doing the same thing to him, and Monti started sitting cross-legged as if he was once again in his mother's womb. Motes of light started twinkling in the night sky and flew around like curious fireflies, and they played with him the whole night.

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