bookandnovel Chapter 45 Twin Swords
Chapter 45 Twin Swords
three days later.
On the balcony, a black-haired boy stood tall and straight, wearing a white cotton shirt.
Before me lay a brown vessel, upon which grew a small silver plant, its roots drooping, its vitality waning.
Under the effect of [Alchemy Perception], a thin silver halo emanated from the moongrass, indicating severe depletion of magical energy.
If it weren't for its magical assistance, Arwen would probably have fallen to the old spearhead's fist.
With a flick of his right hand and a soft incantation, a stream of water gathered in the brown petri dish.
The dry, black soil became moist, and the moonflower grass seemed to receive a long-awaited rain after a drought, its silvery halo becoming more active.
He brought this specifically from the underground incubation chamber of Kyle Mohan.
Alwin muttered to himself, "According to the 'Handbook of Magical Plants,' as long as Moonlight Grass's magic power isn't completely drained, it can slowly recover its magic power by absorbing moonlight."
[Herbal Alchemy Experience +1!]
Alwin glanced at the panel.
Herbal Alchemy Lv2: 685/1000
A year and a half has passed, and the progress bar is more than halfway done.
I stretched and looked ahead, taking a breath of fresh air.
Tissaya de Veres chose a very particular room, with a balcony that offered a view of Kaer Mohen’s front yard and the majestic Blue Mountains, with their white clouds and snow-capped peaks.
"Knock knock knock..."
There was a knock on the door.
Alwin went to open the door.
Paul stood at the door, his whole body neatly tidied, completely unlike his usual appearance during his apprenticeship.
"Come on, you're the only one left."
Arwen smiled. Vesemir had arranged a banquet that evening to celebrate Arwen and his companions' successful acquisition of the Witcher's Badge.
"Let's go."
Alwin left the room and closed the door.
Paul asked excitedly, "Alvin, do you know what Vesemir has planned for tonight?"
"What?"
"Brown bear meat! A whole one, and venison, which Vesemir hunted in the mountains half a month ago."
"Oh, and there's East of the East from Toussaint, Champion Beer from Vigema, Dwarf Mead, and Whiskey."
Alwin's tone was slightly surprised.
"Brown bear meat? This is the time when they fatten up; Master Vesemir must have put in some effort."
"East of Toussaint, there is an extremely precious wine."
"Heh heh, you even know that? I think that's what Vesemir said. He said he's about to bring out his most treasured possession."
Do you know why?
Why?
Paul coughed, mimicking Vesemir's voice.
"Damn it, all five of us passed the mountain trial this time. This has never happened before in the history of apprentices. I'm going to throw a big banquet. Ladies, you're all allowed to get really drunk tonight."
"In short, this is a record-breaking event! Arwen, thanks to you, Vesemir decided to host this lavish banquet to commemorate this moment."
"I'm definitely going to get you so drunk tonight you can't even walk."
Alwin touched his nose and smiled helplessly.
It was evening.
Vesemir stood up and raised the wooden cup.
The orange-red firelight illuminated his weathered old face.
"Cheers, guys, to your health!"
"For your health!"
After a few drinks, the atmosphere at the banquet gradually became lively. People talked about the future, while others complained with red eyes about the hardships of the past few years.
Some felt sorry for Brad and thanked Arwen for killing the little mist spirit to avenge him, while others sighed because of their confusion.
The voices on the wooden table grew softer and softer...
"thump!"
Alwin glanced at Paul, who was determined to get him drunk. Paul was slumped over the table, eating with grease on his face and talking nonsense.
He had drunk quite a bit, but under the mental amplification of the [Dual Soul], he managed to suppress his drunkenness.
His gaze shifted to Vesemir, who was sitting opposite him. As the patriarch and a seasoned drinker, this amount of alcohol was no problem for him.
He nodded in acknowledgment. "Eskar, take them back to their rooms."
"Arwen, come with me."
The two went up the spiral staircase to the second floor.
Vesemir opened an iron door, and the dimly lit room reeked of sticky sword oil.
"Is tomorrow confirmed?"
Alvin nodded. "Yes, it's almost October. I want to go down the mountain before the heavy snow closes off, so I can get on the main road and find a town or inn."
Vesemir sighed. "Even fledglings eventually grow strong enough to leave the nest and soar freely. I understand that."
"If it were Aiken or Paul, I wouldn't agree, but Alwin, I respect your decision."
"Go, choose your own silver sword or steel sword."
Arwen entered the room, his grey eyes gleaming like those of a cat in the night.
The room was filled with weapon racks, and in each slot sat a longsword coated with preservative oil.
"The one on the left is a silver sword, and the one on the right is a steel sword. Let's start with the silver sword."
Arwen strode forward and reached out to grasp the hilt of the nearest sword.
"call……"
Take a deep breath, concentrate, and [Blade Perception] is triggered.
[Wolf School Witcher Silver Sword: A silver sword from Kael'thas Armory Collection, with a silver-plated steel core and elven runes engraved on the blade. It has fifteen defects, is 38 inches long overall, with a 25-inch blade, weighs 40 ounces, and has its center of gravity one inch from the hilt, making it suitable for slashing motions.]
"Similar to the silver sword I used before."
He reached out and touched the other hand.
The message came back, and it was still the same.
Along the way, there were five weapon racks with thirty-four silver swords, but not one of them impressed Alwin.
Vesemir said quietly, "Child, over the years, every time a Witcher leaves Kael'thas, he takes a silver sword with him. The good ones have long been chosen."
"Moreover, the silver sword is made through a complex process, and it is already quite difficult to make even one."
"Besides, every blacksmith in the world knows that only witchers use silver swords, and how many witchers will they encounter in their entire lives?"
"Therefore, there are even fewer master blacksmiths who can make silver swords."
"Even the silver sword in my hand was made by a dwarf by chance."
After hearing this, Alwin sighed, "I was greedy."
Having said that, he picked up a wolf-style witcher's silver sword with only eleven flaws. "This will do."
Vesemir's cat-like eyes narrowed, and he chuckled, "Hey, you have a sharp eye, kid. This is probably the best of all the silver swords."
"Go ahead, and there's also the steel sword. I'll help you re-tie the hilt's guard."
Alwin nodded and went to the steel sword area.
The variety of weapons here has become visibly richer.
Two-handed knight's sword, one-handed sword...
"This is..." Alwin gripped the black wooden handle, the semi-circular closed handguard, and the curved blade, which looked just like the Persian scimitar of Earth.
The message "[Blade Perception]" came through.
【Sericanian Mercenary Scimitar: A single-edged curved scimitar crafted by artisans from the Eastern Sericanian merchants. It has thirty-seven forging imperfections, is thirty-seven inches long, with a thirty-inch blade, and weighs thirty-two ounces. Its center of gravity is located four inches in front of the guard, making it suitable for mounted slashing and rapid cuts in foot combat.】
Sericania, also known as Zerekan, is a mysterious nation that worships dragons.
"To get there, you need to travel east across the Blue Mountains and then cross an endless desert."
"I didn't expect they even had this kind of sword. It seems steel swords are indeed much easier to obtain than silver swords."
"But this isn't suitable for me; it's too light."
Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a long, gray object sitting alone on the innermost weapon rack.
Its blade is wide, and with the length of the hilt, it almost reaches his height. Other steel swords look small and delicate in comparison.
Alwin's heart skipped a beat. He quickly stepped forward and examined the man closely.
The double-groove blade has no fancy patterns, exuding an ancient and rugged aura.
Further up, there is a heavy octagonal guard and a hilt wrapped in animal hide.
He reached out and grasped the sword hilt, feeling a sudden, heavy force; the veins in his forearm bulged as he took the sword from the weapon rack.
He held the sword horizontally in front of him, wiped the dust off the blade with the oilcloth at his waist with his left hand, and felt the [Giant Bloodline] within him pulsate.
[Wolf School Witcher Greatsword: Kyle Mohanbornyov, forged from meteorite iron, with three forging imperfections, 56 inches in total length, 38 inches in blade, 120 ounces in weight, with the center of gravity located 4 inches in front of the guard, suitable for heavy slashing and sweeping attacks, and also has armor-piercing properties.]