The Witcher: Grinding Experience Starting as a Wolf School Witcher

Chapter 74 Ghost Holt

chastity.

Alwin suddenly understood.

As Vesemir once said.

In this world, bandits will rape women, vagrants will, and even well-trained soldiers and knights, after a massacre, will pursue their primal desires.

In fact, one could say that in this chaotic world, the rarity of virgins is comparable to that of dragons.

"What happened to her in the end?"

"She died. Even though I arranged for her to return to the Temple of Meriteli, gave her abortion pills, and gave her an easy job, she still died."

"But I have no regrets, and I have never blamed her."

Alwin sighed.

The spread of this incident has undoubtedly brought a huge negative impact to the Temple of Meriteli.

Shana didn't survive, and she probably felt indebted to the Temple of Meritelli.

"In the eyes of the nobility, infanticide is a serious crime."

"After all, every baby, once raised to adulthood, whether ignorant or a street thug, will eventually find its final resting place: the mine pit."

Nannick turned away, avoiding looking at Alwin's face.

"Actually, we expected this to happen. The main reason we've been marginalized over the years is..."

She tilted her head back, took a deep breath, and met Alwin's gaze.

There was no blame in her eyes, but rather tolerance and gentleness, as if she were watching her former students grow up and learn the knowledge and ideas they had taught her.

She uttered a word, her voice very soft, but to the latter it sounded like thunder, making his heart race.

"The Freak, or the Description of the Witcher."

Alwin frowned, a chill settling over him.

Nannick continued, "I don't know when, but rumors started circulating in the Cordwin aristocratic circles that we taught you nine years ago in Kaer Morhen, sigh..."

At this point, her tone became a little more relaxed.

"But you don't need to worry, we don't plan to stay here any longer."

Arwen replied, "Are we going to Temuria?"

Nannick's gaze showed a slight surprise.

"Yes, Duke Elland of Temuria is willing to take us in, and we plan to move there as well."

Seeing that Alwin opened his mouth, she knew he wanted to continue asking about "Freaks," so she spoke first.

"Alright, we can talk about some things later. I'll take you to see the High Priest first."

Seeing this, Alwin had no choice but to suppress his doubts.

Nannick reached out and pushed open the wooden door in front of him.

The room behind the door was very empty, with almost no furnishings or furniture.

Fresh wreaths and dried herbs hung on the central pillar.

On the right side of the base of the pillar was a wooden bed made of planks, covered with a wool mattress.

An old woman was sitting cross-legged on the mattress.

Her hair was white, her face was covered with wrinkles, and the skin on her cheeks was loose and sagging due to age; she was very old.

With its head drooping, its eyes closed beneath its long, narrow white eyebrows, its expression was perfectly calm, as if it were asleep.

Arwen recognized her; she was now the High Priestess of the Temple of Meriteli.

Asumta, Livia.

He was just about to bow and address Mother Asumta when Nannik interrupted him with a gesture.

The latter gestured for him to be quiet, and the wolf head badge on Alwin's chest began to stir and buzz.

High Priest Asumta's body suddenly trembled, then he abruptly raised his head.

His face began to contort, he became agitated, and he uttered incoherent words.

Arwen carefully examined the body using his [Dual Soul] ability.

"The age of swords and axes, of contempt, is coming. When leaves fall, buds wither, fruits rot, grains turn bitter, and valley waters turn to ice."

"White frost is coming, followed by white light, and the world will be swallowed up by the raging wind and snow."

……

As a Witcher player, Arwen naturally understood the implications.

The first half recounts the three wars waged by the Nilfgaardian Empire against the northern kingdoms.

The latter half refers to the Wild Hunt's pursuit of the Elder Blood and the world's impending eternal ice age.

"The one who carries the silver sword... the one who has left his homeland... will arrive... and danger will come..."

As High Priest Asumta uttered his last words, his body trembled, his head continued to droop, his tense expression gradually calmed, and long breaths escaped his lips.

Carrying a silver sword? Wandering from home? Danger?

Alwin's eyes widened in surprise; these words reminded him of many things.

The fates of Geralt and Ciri actually align.

and also……

"Let's go outside," came Nannick's extremely low voice.

Alwin nodded and followed the other out of the room.

Nannick closed the wooden door, a helpless smile on his face.

"High Priestess Asumta is getting old, and like old Vesemir, she is very sleepy and has a strong tendency to get irritable upon waking. Let's not disturb her for now."

"I understand..." Alwin smiled and followed Nannick toward another corridor.

"Was Mother Asumta prophesying something in a dream? My badge reacted strongly."

"Yes, she often does this now, making strange predictions. Some are very accurate, like the weather tomorrow, but others are hard to judge, like the prediction just now."

Alwin said, "It is the prophecy of Islini."

"Yes, this prophecy is widely circulated, but this is the seventh or eighth version I've heard from the high priest."

"Are there that many?"

"Yes, but most of them are blurry. I don't have the hearing of you witchers."

"Let me think, one of the ending lines seems to be about a girl, hehe..."

It's Ciri!

Alwin pursed his lips, a sigh escaping his lips.

The Temple of Meriteli's enduring influence in later generations stems from its profound historical foundation.

"Mother Asumta has basically foreseen the course of fate; I wonder if she foresaw mine."

"The word 'fate'..." He shook his head slightly; he didn't want to believe in that.

But the goddess Meritelli may very well have been a real deity.

"Like that Mirror Master, that demon, he possesses incredibly powerful and unbelievable abilities."

This world, seemingly low in magic, actually has a very wide range of limits; it shouldn't be underestimated.

Nannick nodded to the nun who was wiping the wooden chair, and then spoke.

"Judging from your attire, you must have just come down from the mountain? I remember you came down after the spring equinox, didn't you?"

"Hmm," Alvin said, coming back to his senses, "I came down the mountain shortly after the autumnal equinox, wanting to broaden my horizons."

"I see. Ha, Geralt mentioned you to me when he came here, saying that Kael'thas has produced a true genius."

"Geralt was here? Where is he?"

After nearly two years, he missed this mentor and friend.

His main goal was to challenge his opponent to a one-on-one duel using his greatsword. He was confident that he could put up a fight head-on even without using the Donkey School's methods.

"Yes, he came here a few months ago to work for Holt on a commissioned project."

Nannick stopped, and the two of them arrived at the deepest part of the corridor.

She took out her key and opened the door. The room was furnished the same as Mother Asumta's: a bed, a stool, and a wardrobe.

Nannick went in first and looked around.

"There aren't many spare rooms in the temple. If you don't mind, you can stay here for now. I just cleaned it a few days ago."

Alwin glanced at it and was already quite satisfied.

"How could that be, Nannick? This is much better than where I used to live."

"That's good. Remember to change your clothes. I'll specifically tell them not to use soap to wash you."

"You even remember such a small thing?"

Nannick's expression softened as he walked to the window and pulled back the gray sunshade.

"I can be considered one of your teachers, Vesemir told me that some monsters are extremely sensitive to smells."

"This is troublesome," Alwin said curiously, "Who is this Holt you mentioned?"

"Holt..." Nannick turned around, his gaze slightly lowered.

"His full name is Preston Holt, which may be unfamiliar to you, but he also has another name, Reindart, and his nickname is 'The Ghost'."

"Ghost Reindeer?"

Alwin murmured, the name sounding somewhat familiar, but his cat-like eyes suddenly narrowed.

[Dual Soul] The ability to remember everything is triggered.

He knew the name; to be precise, he had seen it before!

After he and Paul became official Witchers, Vesemir took them into Kaer Morhen's archives.

It contains information about official Witchers, including information from before becoming a Witcher apprentice.

Among them, the name Reindeer was in the most inconspicuous corner of the archives, which he accidentally glanced at.

"He's a witcher, a witcher from the Wolf School!?"