2. The Beautiful Elsa.

Upon hearing Vesemir's words, Allen was stunned for a moment. He subconsciously stopped in his tracks and looked at the sword in his hand. Although it was a training sword for apprentices, with a plain hilt and guard, the blade had no nicks and was polished to a mirror finish.

A good sword, but not a silver sword.

Allen thought back. In the game, when fighting Drowners, he indeed used a silver sword, but it was automatically switched.

So, using a steel sword wouldn't kill Drowners?

"Our apprentice is very confident, having just passed the Trial of the Grasses, he dares to challenge Drowners with a steel sword."

Vesemir sarcastically commented, then said in a deep voice:

"Remember, apprentice Allen, if you lose, I will have you polish every sword in Kaer Morhen until they shine!"

Before his brain could react, his ears caught the key words.

Allen instinctively replied: "What if I win?"

Vesemir was taken aback by the question, muttering, "If you win?"

He didn't expect this apprentice to be so bold, not only daydreaming in his class. With a monster right in front of him, he still had the courage to challenge him, a master witcher. At that moment, Vesemir even suspected that Allen wasn't intentionally provoking him, but that the Trial of the Grasses had fried his brain.

"Yeah! What if he wins?"

Letho, standing beside Vesemir, chimed in mischievously.

"Hahaha, yeah, Vesemir, what if our apprentice wins?"

This was echoed by over a dozen witcher companions watching.

Vesemir was cornered. His face turned red as he instinctively drew the "steel sword" from his back and shouted at Allen: "If you win, this sword in my hand will be yours!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the training ground erupted.

Letho, standing next to Vesemir, gaped in shock: "Are you crazy?"

"This is your Elsa, a master dwarven work worth 17,325 orens."

"You even borrowed 3,000 orens from me to get this silver sword."

Vesemir's face darkened, holding the "steel sword" in front of him.

The bright and transparent blade clearly showed the owner's meticulous care, with a hollowed-out guard and a silver-white blade that seemed sharp enough to cut skin just by looking at it. Obviously, Vesemir had drawn the wrong sword.

The steel sword worth over three hundred orens still sat obediently in its scabbard on his back. The apprentices didn't understand what 17,325 orens meant, having never left Kaer Morhen since they could remember. But the surrounding witchers knew.

Upon hearing that number, the training ground erupted.

"17,325 orens? I worked hard on contracts this year and only saved 500 orens!"

"That's pretty good. I didn't make any money this year and ended up in the hole by 234 orens due to injuries and equipment repairs..."

"No wonder he's the youngest master witcher in nearly a century..."

...

Vesemir's heart bled.

If there were only a few apprentices, he could have easily said he grabbed the wrong one.

But now, he was figuratively lifted from the castle tower of Kaer Morhen to the clouds perpetually floating above the Blue Mountains.

On those white clouds, in fancy script, it read: "The youngest master witcher in a century."

There was no backing down.

"Then he has to win." Vesemir said stubbornly, "Just went through the Trial of the Grasses, hasn't learned any signs, and is even using a steel sword against a Drowner."

"If he wins, what harm in giving him the sword?"

The other witchers didn't take Vesemir's promise seriously. Drowners were the most common monsters, and each of them had killed no less than a hundred. They knew the difficulty of fighting with just a steel sword. That apprentice couldn't possibly win!

In the apprentice training ground, Allen, who had asked the question, felt a bit nervous.

He had just instinctively responded out of habit.

But things had escalated, and from Vesemir's stern face, it was clear he wouldn't accept any explanation until Allen lost the fight.

From Vesemir to the apprentices and the watching witchers, everyone thought he would lose.

However, Allen didn't think so. As he focused his mind, he seemed to see some sort of aura around the monster.

In the corner of his vision.

The icon of the [Monster Hunt] skill flashed, its color gradually turning from white to red.

[Monster Hunt] Progress 9%

The webbed claw cut through the air, straight towards Allen's face.

A rotting, muddy stench assaulted his senses, making him nauseous.

Allen stared intently at the Drowner's body, stepping back with his right foot, dodging the Drowner's right claw, then following his body's memory, spinning and slashing at the Drowner's back.

Seeing Allen's smooth attack, Vesemir's displeasure slightly lessened, and he commented to the apprentices: "That's right, spinning is the essence of Wolf School swordsmanship. Imagine yourself as a long whip; spinning brings speed and power."

"Allen's moves are very standard, but unfortunately..."

The sleepy apprentice who had just woken up didn't hear the rest, rubbing his eyes and asking: "Unfortunately what?"

Vesemir glanced at the apprentice and ignored him. However, the apprentices no longer needed Vesemir's answer.

The sharp steel sword, carrying the power of the spin, cut into the Drowner's back like it was slicing through greased leather, leaving a shallow scratch before sliding off the monster's smooth back into the air.

"The feel of this strike is strange," Allen thought.

He felt the blade cut through something, not the monster's skin, but something invisible, like gelatin.

"It's chaotic magic."

As if knowing what Allen was thinking, Vesemir's voice came from behind.

"Chaotic magic protects all beings favored by it. Only silver, which represents order, can bypass this protection."

Immediately after, Vesemir's tone softened a bit as he continued: "In light of your practiced swordsmanship, you can switch to a silver sword."

"And the bet?" That was Letho, the witcher.

"Of course not." The master witcher rolled his eyes, giving Letho an annoyed look.

"I want to try again." Allen replied.

Vesemir didn't speak. The witchers watching also fell silent.

After a while, some even left the training ground with a bit of disappointment.

Allen didn't see this. He was staring at the blue body of the Drowner slowly getting up. But Allen could imagine what the onlookers thought—greedy, overestimating himself...

Indeed, under normal circumstances, he should have given up.

An attack that couldn't break through the defense would be difficult to say whether the monster would tire out first or Allen would. But the key point was, Allen's situation was not normal.

On the surface, the previous strike not only did little damage but also almost caused Allen to lose balance after using his full strength.

But actually, [Monster Hunt] Progress 63%

"Go, Allen!"

The sleepy apprentice who had previously hidden behind Allen shouted loudly. His name was Hughes, two years younger than Allen, and was the only friend the original Allen had in Kaer Morhen.

Allen just nodded without saying anything. Because the Drowner was charging at him again.

Allen didn't retreat but advanced, stepping forward and slashing again, still not breaking through.

But.

"Ding!"

[Monster Hunt] 100%

Time froze at this moment, and everything around turned into a still painting. In the painting, the Drowner's bloodshot eyes, its bared fangs, and the yellow saliva stringing between them.

A red line suddenly appeared in the center. A strong intuition guided Allen to slash along this line.

So, The sharp blade, like a child's brush, followed the red line, cutting lightly through the painting.

The Drowner's neck happened to appear at the end of the red line. As if it knew the painting needed a certain color to be complete, it willingly offered itself.

"Splurt"

The painting moved, with black, foul blood spraying from the Drowner's neck.

"Thud"

Allen's exhausted body fell onto the headless corpse. At the same time, a mechanical sound came to his ear.

"Ding"

[Monster "Drowner" Defeated!]

[Reward Calculation: ...]

"Allen!" Hughes shouted anxiously.

"Vesemir! Quick!"

Before Letho reminded him, Vesemir rushed over. Then, about half a meter away from Allen, he stopped.

Looking at Allen's slowly rising figure, then at the headless Drowner, Vesemir was surprised: "My apprentice... actually won."

.....