Beyond the Witcher

The system's prompt echoed in his mind: "Unblock Ancient Blood (Primary)?"

Excitement surged through Wayne, but a voice of reason held him back. This power was immense, an unknown quantity. Unsealing it could trigger an energy explosion, reducing the mansion to rubble. Not only would his identity be exposed, but Triss might be caught in the blast.

Deciding to postpone the ritual, Wayne excused himself and headed for a secluded location. He was eager to test his newly acquired abilities and gauge the extent of his power boost. Humming a happy tune, he luxuriated in the warm bath, envisioning a brighter future.

His daydreaming was shattered by the sudden creak of the bathroom door. Turning his head, he saw Triss, her red hair cascading down her back. Her flushed cheeks and bright eyes hinted at a warm bath. She wore a purple robe, barely reaching her knees, revealing a glimpse of her calves. As their eyes met, a blush crept onto Triss's face, but she continued walking towards him with a graceful demeanor.

Triss's voice broke the tranquility of the bath. "You take a rather long bath, Wayne," she said, a playful lilt in her voice. "Perhaps a lady in a hurry wouldn't mind sharing for a bit?"

Wayne raised his head, a smile playing on his lips. Triss's damp robe clung to her form, but their focus remained on the conversation. He appreciated her easygoing nature, a welcome contrast to the usual tension of their world.

"Of course not, Triss," he replied smoothly. "This is your home, and I'm just a guest."

The unspoken tension hung in the air. As an adult and a witcher, Wayne understood the underlying message. Yet, his primary concern was Triss's well-being, especially with her recent injury.

"Perhaps another time," he suggested gently. "I wouldn't want to aggravate your wounds."

A flicker of disappointment crossed Triss's features, quickly replaced by understanding. "As you wish, Wayne. But," she added with a touch of teasing, "don't think this means you're off the hook for helping me with my research later."

Wayne chuckled. "Never," he promised, enjoying their playful banter. Despite the interrupted opportunity, a warmth bloomed in his chest.

As the evening unfolded, Wayne gleaned a deeper understanding of Triss's attraction to Witchers. Her magical sensitivity drew her to the potent chaos magic he wielded, even a subtle touch offering her a thrill. Despite his growing desire, Wayne prioritized Triss's well-being, knowing her recent injuries wouldn't allow for a prolonged encounter. After a tender exchange, he helped the drowsy sorceress back to her room, vowing to find a way to enhance their future encounters.

Dusk settled, painting the sky in hues of orange. Wayne prepared a delightful dinner for Triss, their conversation further solidifying their bond. He then excused himself, venturing out on horseback towards the rocky area where the Leshen had been vanquished.

Their earlier discussion revealed that sealing the space rift would require two days of gathering materials. News of their successful mission against the Leshen had reached the Duke of Maribor, with rewards promised. Of course, the system already acknowledged Wayne's contribution upon Triss's confirmation, granting him 352 mission experience points and a master-level treasure chest.

However, the master-level treasure chest, as enticing as it was, would have to wait for a luckier day next month to maximize its potential rewards. The experience points from this mission pushed Wayne's current level to its peak. A few more standard missions and he'd be level seven, granting another boost to his abilities. This made him yearn for more high-level missions. The rewards from the master level were substantial, so what wonders awaited in an epic mission? According to the lore, epic missions dealt with world-altering events, shaping the fate of nations and countless lives.

After traversing a primeval forest, Wayne arrived at the rocky area once dominated by the Leshen. The scene remained unchanged after a few hours. The corpses lay undisturbed, a grim testament to the harsh realities of the wild. The Leshen's reign of terror might be over, but its influence on the forest lingered. Unfazed, Wayne settled on a boulder near the space rift. After confirming his solitude, he took a deep breath and focused – the time had come to unlock the Elder Blood.

Ding! Confirmed unblocking.

Remaining ability points: 0 points.

A monotone voice echoed in his mind, confirming the activation. He felt a surge of enigmatic power erupt from his soul, coursing through his body. It was as if he were reliving the harrowing memories of his mutation trials at Kaer Morhen, the pain and transformation echoing within him.

A wave of profound energy surged through Wayne, unlike any pain he'd ever known. It wasn't torture, but a metamorphosis, a fundamental shift in his very being. Every cell, every strand of his DNA, resonated with this enigmatic force, evolving towards a higher state of existence. As the transformation unfolded, an intuitive understanding of the Elder Blood blossomed within him. Knowledge and experience flooded his mind, granting him a mastery of this power on a primal level.

Time seemed to lose its meaning. When Wayne finally stirred, the sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving only a fiery glow in its wake. The boulder beneath him was fractured, its surface etched with cracks. The surrounding vegetation had been sapped of life, reduced to withered husks.

The world felt different. As a Witcher, he could only wield the chaotic magic, a force shrouded in mystery. Now, with the Elder Blood awakened, he had become a Sorcerer, a being of unparalleled potential. His inborn magical talent eclipsed that of any ordinary sorcerer. He could not only perceive the chaotic magic swirling around him but also understand its essence, its flow, its very nature. It whispered to him, a symphony of raw power.

Without formal training, Wayne felt an instinctive ability to manipulate this energy, to weave it into rudimentary spells. This was likely the boon of his enhanced Magic Manipulation. Yet, the benefits of his awakened bloodline extended far beyond. The mutations within him had undergone a seismic shift. His capacity to store and generate chaotic magic had skyrocketed, and its very quality had been refined.

A surge of exhilaration coursed through Wayne. Previously, his limited reserves restricted him to ten uses of the basic Igni sign within a short timeframe. Now, that number had undoubtedly increased. He could potentially unleash it thirty times without exhausting his magical reserves.

Fueled by this newfound power, Wayne formed the Igni sign with his right hand, channeling a quarter of his magic into his palm for over ten seconds. The concentrated energy was so potent, he could feel the temperature skyrocketing. Before his transformation, such a feat would have surely burned his hand.

With a swift thrust upwards, the condensed magic erupted into a cerulean inferno. The flames roared to life, engulfing a vast fifty-meter radius in a fan-shaped blaze. But the spectacle didn't end there. As the flames reached their peak, a searing heat wave erupted, accompanied by a powerful shockwave reminiscent of a legendary explosion.

Witnessing the destructive force of his enhanced Igni, a thought flickered across Wayne's mind: this level of power likely surpassed even advanced sorcerers attacks. He proceeded to test the remaining four signs, and the results were undeniable. Even without formal sorcerer training, his mastery over the Witcher's signs had become extraordinary, capable of astonishing anyone who dared to underestimate him.