The Divine Hunter

tripped of her authority, but she still had access to the royal warehouse.

They agreed on their next meeting time and went their separate ways.
Roy went back to the blacksmith shop.
Letho was still talking about the armor with Berengar.

“The Lady of the Lake and Princess Adda, huh? Troublesome figures.” Letho patted Roy’s shoulder.
“I told you witchers should never get involved with religion.
Serrit, Auckes, and I have our own work to do, so you’ll have to clear the sewers yourself.”

“No problem.
I can handle it alone.” Roy nodded.

Letho took some items out of his ring.
He gave Roy Swallow so he could heal faster, Thunderbolt for more strength, and Petri’s Philter for more powerful signs.
“Remember, you can only take two decoctions at a time.
If you go over your limit, you’ll be weakened and nauseous after the effect wears away.
And it’ll cause a lot of complications.”

“I understand.”

Letho was still worried, so he handed Roy two bombs that looked like coconut husks.
They were Dragon’s Dreams.
“The sewers are cramped and filled with swamps.
There are inflammable gases everywhere.
Dragon’s Dream will work well there, but use them sparingly.
If you run into a fleder, throw this and run.”

“I know.”

After that, Letho patted his shoulder.
“Kid, always put your safety first.”

“Don’t worry.
Did you forget what I can do? I can escape anytime I want to.” Roy waved Letho goodbye and left.

The big maze that was the sewers and the multitude of monsters hiding in it meant untold dangers, but it also meant a mountain of EXP.
Without Letho acting as the vanguard, Roy would be doing this solo.
Chances like this did not come every day.
It was dangerous, but he had a good feeling about it.
In fact, he was excited.
Witchers were adventurous people, after all.

***

“Letting a cub venture out on its own can be deadly.
For the cub, of course.” Berengar stepped on the blower, and the flames in the furnace burned brighter.
“The sewers of Vizima are home to a lot of nasty stuff.
Why’d you let him do this alone? Are you punishing him for his rash behavior last night?”

“Everyone was rash once.
No need to punish him.” Letho shook his head.
“He should learn how to be a real witcher now.”

Berengar took a deep breath, reminiscence gleaming in his eyes.
“He’s not even fifteen yet.
When I was his age, I was still training my swordsmanship in Ka… under an old git.”

“The kid has killed more than ten types of monsters, including a leshen.” Letho had a look of approval in his eyes.

“Congratulations.” Berengar stopped stepping for a moment, and envy appeared on his face for a while.
“Your school’s gonna live on.”

“We talked to Geralt in Cintra not too long ago, and he said the Wolf School is in dire straits.
It’s been years since they had new kids coming in.
Now there’s only four of them left.” Letho changed the topic.
“Ever thought of going back?”

“None of your business!” Berengar crossed his arms and snapped back, “What is wrong with you and the kid? Why do you want me to go back anyway?”

“We might be traveling to Kaer Morhen this winter to meet the Wolf School witchers.” A pause later, Letho stared at Berengar and said honestly, “We’ll be drinking away and chatting all we want.
It’ll be the perfect opportunity to sit down and talk things out.
Let bygones be bygones.
Someone did say that there aren’t many witchers left in these lands.
Nothing’s worse than extinction, so just let the past go.”

“I never regret leaving them,” Berengar said.
“And there’s no misunderstanding here.
We only had different ideas of how things should work out.” The Wolf School traitor stepped on the blower again and grumbled at the flames, “All I wanted was to raise a family and have my own kids.
Can’t do that if I’m a witcher.”

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