The Divine Hunter Chapter 397

Chapter 397: Purpose of Existence

[TL: Asuka]

[PR: Ash]

The building was bigger on the inside. Much bigger than Roy thought. The lobby and living quarters were merged together. There were tables, chairs, and necessities in the quarters, and wolverine and snow leopard hides hung on the walls. On the walls above the fireplace, the head of a fleder hung.

There was a tightly-shut door in the corner of the room's depths, leading to the basement. Roy had a feeling the room was hiding something big within. Perhaps it was connected to the underground fortress.

Roy kept looking around. Before the fox-hide sofa stood a wooden bed, and a crate of clothes sat beside it. A wooden bookshelf stood behind the bed. It was filled with old tomes and parchments, but these books were well-kept.

There were versions written in northern common speech and Elder Speech. He saw one of the books in Coral's room. It went by the name of Magic and Its Arcane Mysteries. That was one of Aretuza's basic textbooks. Most witchers couldn't learn it, much less use it. Keldar was an exception.

“We haven't had guests in a long time, Roy, especially not someone as young as you. You seem younger than Igsena.” Keldar took a seat beside the desk. He took a book titled The Transfer of Chaos Energy and flipped it open.

“I'm nearly sixteen,” Roy said calmly. “It's been a year or so since I passed my Trial.”

Keldar turned around in surprise. “Did your school improve upon the recipe? Your magic shines even brighter than Coen's. I almost thought you were Erland's apprentice. Speaking of which… Coen! Stop flirting and serve our guests something. There's stew in the cauldron.”

“Yes, sir!” Coen answered stiffly and left the room, leaving Igsena alone. She held the hem of her dress and hung her head low. Anxiety bubbled within her, and she kept looking away from Keldar. She took a book and pretended to read, but she was flipping too fast to even remember a word. Or she might just be illiterate.

Roy smiled and whipped his cat out. He placed the cat on his lap and rubbed its belly. “No. We didn't have any mage's help. The recipe has been the same for decades. You think I am different perhaps because I have a smidgen of magical talent.”

“A smidgen is an understatement.”

“Compared to you, my talents are nothing.” Roy rolled his cat up and tossed it between his hands. He asked, “You and Vesemir are peers, aren't you?”

“Yes.” Keldar smiled. “We're old fossils now. But you're still young and lively. Oh, why are you giving me that look? Did I scare you?”

“No. I just feel honored to be in the presence of a grandmaster.” Roy composed himself and took a deep breath. “You're a Source, aren't you? So why did you become a witcher and not a mage? It's a better job, isn't it?”

Silence fell upon Keldar. Light of the candle flame flickered in his eyes, but Keldar had a faraway look. He brushed his finger across a page of his book only to freeze halfway through flipping the page.

“Difference in opinions. I prefer how the Griffins do things, so I became a witcher. I spend my time swimming in the ocean of knowledge and fooling around with my students. It's the life I wanted. Believe it or not, it's been decades since I swung my blade or cast a Sign.” Keldar finally flipped the page.

“And why did you join the Viper School, lad?” Keldar sounded curious. He was staring at Roy from head to toe. “If you've only undergone the Trial a year ago, then that means you were only fourteen. You were at least three years older than most adepts. No school would take in anyone over the age of eleven. Those heterochromatic eyes of yours is proof that your Trial must have been a deadly one. Are you an Unexpected Child?”

“This is the decree of Destiny.” Roy didn't give a straight answer. “I passed the Trial without suffering any side effects, and I've gained some special abilities from it as well.”

“The Vipers are blessed. It's impossible to raise new witchers in this age.” Keldar flipped another page. “Pardon me, but how many members of your school are left?”

“Not much. Four, including me. Everyone else is over seventy years old.”

“Hot stew, coming right up. Get some and warm yourself up.” Coen came in with a steaming cauldron and placed it on the table. He ladled the gleaming yellow stew and filled five plates with it. Even Gryphon got one.

Gryphon meowed. She loved that Coen treated her like equals, and she raised a paw of approval.

Igsena took the plate and gulped her stew at high speed. She felt like a weight had been lifted off her back. No longer did she have to flip through the book she knew nothing of while going through weird thoughts in her mind.

“Keldar told me this is our future. Nature intends it to be this way. The number of witchers are dwindling, no matter which school it is.” Coen spoke with solemnity and sadness in his voice. “There aren't many requests for us to take anymore. Eventually, witchers will be nothing but pages in the annals of history.”

Igsena held his hand, offering comfort.

“That might not necessarily be true.” Roy speared a piece of carrot and popped it into his mouth, but it scalded his tongue. He stuck it out and huffed weirdly. “We know a lot of people. Like the Wolves. Vesemir included.”

The Griffins listened closely.

“We also have three Cats and a new Manticore with us.” Roy smiled. He announced, “The twelve of us are living in Novigrad. And all of us are witchers.”

Silence fell upon the room. Only the sound of Gryphon playing with her potatoes were heard.

“You're all living in Novigrad?” Keldar closed his book and turned around to face Roy. There were wrinkled above his brows, and the look in his eyes spoke of gravity. “Are you sure it's not mercenaries or peasants?”

Roy laughed. “If you don't believe me, you can always travel to Novigrad and see for yourself. You shall be treated as esteemed guests. Or you can just cast Axii, and I'll tell you the truth.” I'm immune to mind control anyway.

Coen and Keldar exchanged a look.

Coen asked, “Is this the brotherhood you mentioned?”

“Yes. It's a brotherhood made up of witchers.” Roy said, “To be precise, witchers and a sorceress.”

“Not even witchers of the same school can stay together in a same place for long.” Keldar shook his head and stared into Roy's eyes. “Geralt and his friends would go mad if they had to stay with Vesemir in Kaer Morhen all the time. And everyone else will have even less patience. They were trained and taught differently since they were kids.”

Roy's confident smile didn't waver. He kept sipping his stew without worry.

Keldar tapped the table with his finger. “Even if we put their differences aside, why do the witchers gather? For what purpose? To what end?”

Roy put his fork down.

“One witcher can take down an elite troop all by himself. Twelve is a safety hazard,” Keldar continued. “Novigrad's rulers will not stand for this, and not to mention you have a mage on your side.”

Igsena crossed her hands before her belly nervously. Coen clasped his hands and rested his chin on them, his eyes too spoke of solemnity.

“Our goal is simple. Like you said, the number of monsters are dwindling, and so are the requests we can take. Not one school has had new students for the last twenty years. At this rate, we'd be nothing but history.” Roy smiled, and he announced, “And our mission is to turn this trend around. Our plan is to grow the brotherhood and alter how the public perceives us. No longer will we tolerate insults and slanders to our name. We fight under the name of equality, teamwork, unity, and expansion. Even the rulers of Novigrad have agreed to work with us. No longer will they come after witchers.”

“You've interfered with politics?” Keldar's gentle demeanor was replaced by anger, and every muscle in his body tensed up.

But Roy remained calm, and he stared at Keldar. “Dealing with safety problems and arresting kidnappers don't count as political interference.”

Keldar shook his head, smiling and easing up.

“We've established ourselves in Novigrad. The apprentices' training is ongoing, and we're also improving the recipe so the children can pass the Trial safely without suffering any side effects.”

Roy paused for a moment and looked at the Griffins. “I'm cutting to the chase. We've achieved a major breakthrough. Not too long ago, a nine-year-old boy took the Manticore Trial and passed it. He's the twelfth member of the brotherhood.”

Kelder's cheeks twitched. He changed positions and crossed his arms, while Coen sat up straighter, apparently invigorated by the news.

Igsena, however, was in a daze. She wasn't too sure what the witchers were talking about.

“But we need more people if we want to expand,” Roy continued. “And that's why I'm here. Of course, I'd very much love to visit this place and witness the great fortress. It's the least I can do after a grandmaster has spent his life guarding the place. But of course, I'd also like to extend an invitation to you. An invitation to Novigrad, where we can exchange our experiences and stories. The decoction recipes, Trial recipe, Signs, and diagrams are open to our members.” Roy was trying to tempt these two into joining. “We've found a whole set of Manticore gear diagrams in Velen.”

Coen looked surprised.

“It'd be perfect if you would join us,” Roy genuinely requested. “But if you refuse, it's alright. Keldar, you know more about Signs than Vesemir does, and you also know the Griffin School's secret arts. Is it possible for you to contribute to our cause? Vesemir is also a part of the brotherhood.”

Keldar's expression didn't change much. He was still frowning, but his hands were clenching the armrest of his chair tightly.

Coen took a deep breath and looked at his mentor. “Novigrad is a city more lively than Lan Exeter. Aren't you worried someone might notice the Trial? And how do you plan on getting new apprentices? By relying on the Law of Surprise alone?”

“We might be holding a Trial, but we're not torturing the children. We treat them like family, and we play by Novigrad's laws. There's nothing to fear here.” Roy smiled. “And yes, where we get new blood is an important question. To that end, we've established an orphanage. We take in these poor, tormented children and provide them with a place to stay. Nothing we do goes against the creed of knighthood. And then we pick the willing ones from the children and train them. Eventually, the ones with a stronger will are left.

“Currently, we have twenty children residing within the walls of the orphanage, and a quarter of them are witcher apprentices. One of them has passed the Trial, and we're planning on taking in double the number of orphans next year.” There was a flame roaring in Roy's eyes. There was also pride in his voice as he spoke. Gryphon sat up straighter as well, looking around as if to gloat.

“You might not believe this, but our primary mission now isn't to wander the Continent or make a living by taking requests. Our job now is to raise the children. We teach them how to read, write, farm, and hunt. We teach them how to make weapons, armors, and everyday items. We teach them medicine and alchemy. All the children are treated fairly and equally. They learn together, eat together, and play together. Just like a family. Even if not all of them will become witchers, at least they'll have learned something from us. They can contribute to society. Get a job for themselves.”

Coen could imagine the scene in his head, and he gasped. Ever since he came to Kaer Seren, the only people living in these ruins were him and Keldar. Never had he seen a witcher academy so lively, and he looked forward to it. But then the constant nagging of his mentor's teachings in his head doused his anticipation.

Igsena, for some reason, felt envious of the children. If she had grown up in an orphanage like that, she might have been actually happy. At least it was better than getting abused. Perhaps I would have opened up a shop in the city by now.

Keldar was still unconvinced. He cracked open the second book, and it was titled Key to Wars of Attrition.

“Roy, you know how infamous we are. The people call us uncivilized savages, mutants, kidnappers, man-eating monsters.” Coen took a deep breath. There was unease stirring in his heart, and he asked, “Why are the children willing to take the Trial?”

“You've never experienced homelessness, have you?” Roy shook his head. “Being an apprentice is a lot better than being a tramp. And witchers aren't that infamous in Novigrad. We've been trying to change how the public perceives us, and it's working.”

It was all thanks to the ballroom and their collaboration with the church in the large-scale manhunt for kidnappers earlier.

“But where do you get the money?” Igsena asked. “Roy, I don't get most of what you said, but one thing I do know is orphanages cost money, especially in big cities. Not to mention you're providing quality education for the children.”

“And Trial research burns through coins fast,” Coen added.

“We've set up shops in Novigrad. An apothecary shop and a ballroom,” Roy said. “Witchers can run a business too. Not against the law. And we'll expand the apothecary shop next year. We get enough funds for our operation from our business.” Roy concluded, “Times are changing, and the brotherhood is changing as well. It's how we got this far.”

They're running an orphanage, teaching the children how to survive, working with the officials to stop kidnappers, and they're also running a business. Aside from the teaching part, none of those are witcher jobs. Coen rubbed his cheeks. He wanted to say something, but he didn't.

Igsena's eyes shone. She had forgotten about Keldar, and now she was holding Coen's arm quietly.

“You're young, but you sure can argue. I can see why Vesemir asked you to come.” Keldar shook his head and sighed. “Why is the brotherhood creating new witchers? Just to expand the organization?”

And then he started speaking of the past like he was talking about an absolute truth that nobody could change. “Three hundred years ago, monsters ran amok on this land, slaughtering our people. The mages went into research and created the first group of witchers. They were born to fulfill a purpose. The number of witchers bolstered, and they made it their mission to save the people. It was why they killed monsters. But the number of monsters are dwindling now, and the people no longer need witchers. There's no need for witchers to exist in large numbers. Expansion will do nothing but disrupt the cycle of the world.”

“Keldar, do you really think witchers exist as nothing but accessories for someone else?” Roy stood up, confused. He stared into Keldar's eyes, but the old man didn't budge. He looked at Coen, and the younger Griffin sat up straight, listening intently.

“I do not share the same opinion.” Roy shook his head, Adamantly, he said, “Witchers are beings independent of others. Like how humans procreate, making more witchers is an instinct in all witchers. We do not wish to interfere with any kingdom's politics, work for gangs, or become mercenaries. All we want is a united community so we can break free of discrimination. Witchers are witchers,” he said hoarsely. “We have wild eyes and inhuman capabilities, immunity, and lifespan, but we can't procreate. Keldar, if witchers have no reason to exist, then why did you bring Coen into the fold?”

“And that's why I only took in one student.” Keldar flipped through his book. “One is enough to inherit my will and protect Kaer Seren.”

Roy froze. For the first time, he felt powerless. He never saw anyone as stubborn and obstinate as Keldar. It was as if Keldar was more of a spectator of history than a witcher.

“Don't waste your time on me, lad. No matter what you say, I won't go to Novigrad with you,” Keldar said. “But since Vesemir vouched for you, you can stay in Kaer Seren for a while. Coen will teach you the Signs, alchemy, and wisdom on monster hunting, but don't bring up that brotherhood. It won't work on us.”

Gryphon lay down low in defeat. Roy turned around. Coen looked red and dazed, as if he weer deep in his thoughts. If I can't get through to Keldar, I'll try getting through to Coen.

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