The Divine Hunter

trying to calm the decoction and stabilize it.
If that wasn’t done, the decoction would just be a half-finished product.

***

Roy was engrossed with alchemy, and he didn’t notice the time pass.
He could still help with the early preparations for Swallow, but the oils, bombs, and more advanced potions confused him, turning his brain to mush.
There were too many steps, and all of them were too complex for him.
It wasn’t something someone of his level could understand, so he stopped thinking and only followed the witcher’s orders.

Even though all he learned was the making of the marigold potion, he got more proficient with the tools as he helped the witcher.
It would act as the foundation of his future studies.
A long time later —  perhaps a week —  Letho made two Swallows, two dimeritium bombs, and a lot of potions.
And then he suddenly said Roy could leave the lab to have an off day.

Roy heaved a sigh after being relieved from the intense, pressing work environment, but the next day, Letho took out a particular bottle from a row of potions.
“This is the potion I made for you.” Letho looked into Roy’s eyes and said slowly, “Regular intake will slowly increase your resistance to potions’ toxicity.
It builds your foundation before taking the Decoction of the Grasses.”

All the color drained from Roy’s face at the mention of toxicity.
“No wonder I got a day off.
Even death row inmates have their last supper.” Roy might’ve looked like he didn’t care about the dangers of the trial, but still, his instinctive defensive measures told him to stay away from poisonous substances like that.

“Don’t worry, boy.
As it stands, your body can take the toxicity.” Letho noticed his reluctance, and for once, he encouraged Roy.
“It won’t harm you, though you might squirm in pain for a short while.
Speaking from experience.”

“Will I pass the Trial of the Grasses if I drink this?” Roy put the glass bottle under the light and noticed that the decoction wasn’t as pure as the other potions.
Instead, it was filled with green strings that looked like parasites, and the color was a heavy black.
It was also sticky and gooey, and Roy felt disturbed.

“There are no absolutes in this world,” Letho told him honestly.
“All I can tell you is that if you can get through this arduous process, it’ll increase your chances of surviving the Trial of the Grasses.”

Roy took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.
“How painful will this be?”

“Do you know about childbirth?”

“Why do you ask that?”

“According to Rodrigues’ experiment report, anyone who takes this potion will experience the same pain as childbirth.”

Roy kept quiet and ignored ‘childbirth.’ He wondered if he could take it.
My Will is 5.8, and my Constitution is 5.5.
It’s a bit higher than an average adult’s, so I should be fine.

“It’s been twenty years since the Viper School has had new blood.
If you fail the trial…” Letho trailed off, and he patted Roy’s shoulder.
As if by magic, Roy calmed down.
“So be brave and take the potion.
If we were following the original plan, this should’ve only been taken six months down the line.” Letho had doubt in his eyes.
“Maybe you matured faster, so you reached my expectations ahead of time.”

Roy knew why.
He had attribute points, which was something other people didn’t.

“Don’t feel too stressed out.
You’ll have two days to prepare.”

“Can I not take the potion?”

“Hmm?”

“Joking.” Roy forced a smile, and some color returned to his face.
He couldn’t back out at that point, and it was in his plan anyway.
Since he’d chosen to become a witcher, he would see his choice through, no matter how painful it might be.
And since that potion could increase his chances of surviving the trial, he had no reason not to drink it.

“I don’t need it.
Let’s do it today.” 

As Letho watched, Roy took the potion and swirled it, but he didn’t take it immediately.
He hunkered down and meditated, clearing his mind and relaxing his body.
He’d fully recovered half an hour later, and he glanced at the clock before uncorking the bottle and gulping the potion.

His mouth was filled with a bitter, salty, raw taste.
It was as if he had raw oyster, pork, and soil at the same time.
Even though the potion traveled down his stomach in an instant, the weird taste still lingered in his mouth.

His face scrunched up, and he clenched his fists before his chest and body shook uncontrollably.

The potion had started to take effect.

The potion stayed in his oral cavity for a moment and rushed up into his head.
Roy felt like he just smashed his head against a wall, and his consciousness started to fade.
His eyes rolled back, and he was forced out of his meditation before falling to the ground.
When the potion hit his stomach, it triggered a weird chemical reaction, releasing an enormous amount of heat.
His torso felt like it was being grilled in an oven, threatening to cook him, to turn him into ash.
He reflexively scratched at the ground and rolled around, trying to chase the heat away.
His eyes were closed, his face red and tense, as if he were experiencing a nightmare.

A moment later, the pain reached its pinnacle, and he opened his eyes.
They were bloodshot.
Roy let out a guttural roar, and veins bulged at an abnormal speed on his neck and temples.
Letho hunkered down beside him, his face inscrutable, though reminiscence filled his eyes.
“Hold on, boy.
The longer you can go and the more pain you can take, the better your reward will be.”