136. Even if the Price is the Life of a Trainee.

Originally somewhat lax, everyone immediately became serious upon hearing these words.

"Wolf School and Cat School, as two Witcher schools within the same kingdom, have participated in tournaments organized by the king more than once," Vesemir began. "The specific events change each time, but they generally fall into three categories..."

"Hunting monsters, sword fighting, and brawls."

Vesemir paused before continuing, "Hunting monsters is simple. The school that kills the most monsters within the time of an hourglass wins."

"The monsters prepared by the king are usually drowners and ghouls, but mostly drowners."

"This event is typically where our school has won the most."

"As for sword fighting..."

Allen noticed Vesemir's face darken slightly at this point, suggesting that the Wolf School had likely lost more often in this category.

It wasn't hard to understand why. Although Allen had never encountered the Cat School in reality, in the games, this school's fighting style derived from the elves—its swordplay was agile, swift, and highly flexible.

Young Witchers from the Cat School often began training by walking on tightropes with their eyes closed. However, the main reason Vesemir's expression darkened was likely because Cat School Witchers spent far more time wielding steel swords than silver ones.

"If the hallmark of Wolf School swordplay is its spinning technique, gaining maximum strength through rotation to break a monster's defense," Vesemir explained, "then the hallmark of Cat School swordplay is speed, discarding all factors that slow them down, focusing mainly on thrusts."

Hughes caught on to the key point and asked, "Focusing on speed? How do Cat School Witchers break through a monster's defenses then?"

Hearing this, Vesemir's face turned even darker as he replied, enunciating each word clearly, "The scum from Cat School rarely take on monster-hunting contracts. They prefer contracts for assassinations, killings—work that violates the Witcher's Code."

"Their actions have cast a dark shadow over us, tarnishing our reputation."

"Disgraceful!"

Hughes, rarely seeing Vesemir so enraged, dared not ask further. However, after calming himself, Vesemir looked seriously at the four of them and warned, "Though the idea of Witchers turning their claws on their own is disgraceful, those Cat cubs' swordsmanship is nothing to underestimate, especially since it counters us Wolf School Witchers."

As he spoke, Vesemir unbuttoned his leather armor, revealing a narrow scar on his chest, and warned, "This scar was left by a Cat School Witcher disguised as a bandit thirty years ago."

"I almost died that day."

"Ah!" The young Witchers gasped as they saw how close the scar was to Vesemir's heart, clearly meant to kill him.

"Didn't he know you were a Witcher too?" Hughes asked, baffled.

As fellow Witchers, shouldn't they support each other? How could it come to crossing swords to the point of killing each other?

"Of course he knew!" Vesemir growled, suppressing his anger. "With twin swords on my back, wearing a gambeson and having mutated eyes, how could he not know?"

"At that time, I was accompanying a merchant caravan, taking on a contract to protect them from monsters along the way."

"Out of nowhere, that Witcher from Cat School sprang from the bushes. His steel sword moved like lightning, and in the blink of an eye, he had killed three or four guards and left me with this scar."

"If not for a Witcher's heightened senses..."

"Whoosh~"

Vesemir exhaled deeply as if trying to release the bitterness within him. It was clear that even though the ambush had happened thirty years ago, Vesemir still hadn't forgotten it. In fact, the passage of time only seemed to deepen his resentment. He believed strongly in the Wolf School's ideals of neutrality and honor and couldn't tolerate the despicable actions of some Witchers—cowardly and treacherous individuals.

"And then what happened?" Fred asked.

Vesemir glanced at him before continuing, "Then I used the Igni sign to set his clothes on fire and saw those cat-like eyes of his."

"But I was too injured to pursue him, and he escaped."

Vesemir shook his head in frustration and then redirected the conversation back to the combat tournament.

"The Wolf School's swordsmanship was never created to kill our own kind, which is why it often has flaws in the eyes of the Cat School."

"In past tournaments, we often lost in this category, and quite a few Wolf School Witchers have died at the hands of their own kind."

"So..."

Vesemir looked sternly at the four apprentices, his voice resolute: "Show no mercy."

"The core members of Cat School are mostly psychopaths, lunatics, or sadists. They select apprentices with violent tendencies from street urchins."

"So show no mercy—if you do, you'll lose, or even die."

"If you're outmatched, don't be stubborn. Surrender when necessary; your life is the most important thing."

Hughes, Fred, and Bond exchanged uneasy glances.

Bond couldn't help but say, "But isn't this tournament important for our school's funding next year?"

"Wolf School doesn't need to trade the blood of its apprentices for money," Vesemir firmly shook his head before looking at Allen.

"Allen, that goes for you too. Life comes first, understand?"

Before Allen could respond, the three young Witchers protested.

"Master Vesemir, there's no way Allen could lose!"

"Yeah, exactly!"

Vesemir didn't respond to them. His golden eyes fixed on Allen. Allen didn't think he would lose, but he understood that Vesemir's concern was for his well-being, and there was no need to argue about it. So he agreed.

"Understood, Master Vesemir."

Vesemir nodded in satisfaction and then turned to scold the other young Witchers, "I know Allen's skills are top-notch, but does raw skill guarantee victory in a real fight?"

"Have you forgotten what a Witcher uses to hunt monsters?"

"No Witcher, no matter how skilled, is not stronger than a Cyclops, yet a Cyclops is considered a low-level giant."

The three young Witchers seemed to grasp something, though they weren't entirely sure. After mulling over Vesemir's words, Allen's expression grew serious.

"Master Vesemir, are you saying the Cat School might treat us like monsters, using any means necessary to win the tournament?"

Although his stats had improved, they still hadn't reached the average level of a Witcher master. His elemental affinity hadn't progressed to the point where only a silver sword could pierce through. So in this dangerous world, Allen could still die—perhaps even easily. Just like how Geralt of Rivia, the "White Wolf," was killed by a pitchfork.

"I don't know," Vesemir sighed. "I only know that compared to the Wolf School, those Cat School scum care far more about winning the king's sponsorship."

"Even if the price is the life of their apprentices!"

...…

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137. The Cat School's Caravan.

138. First Arrival at Ban Ard.

139. Aen Saevherne.

140. The Abandoned Castle.

141. The Taste of the Cook's Food.