The Divine Hunter

Chapter 1: The Farmer's Boy

“Did you hear? A horse crashed into Moore’s kid.”

“Poor child. He’s only thirteen, isn’t he? I think he’s bedridden for life.”

“That’s old news. Roy’s woken up, but something’s wrong with his head. He keeps spacing out in the yard.”

The farmers on the field whispered about the tragedy that befell a boy named Roy. A burly man behind them quietly put his hoe down and clenched his fists. He was infuriated, frustrated, but also helpless.

The man was Moore, the one the farmers were talking about, and also Roy’s father. He was just a lowly peasant like everyone else, and he had toiled on the fields for half his life. He wasn’t handsome, capable, or rich. Nobody had wanted to marry him, until his wife had come along and done so despite his flaws. He was twenty-three then.

The couple had a child when they were twenty-five. In their time and age, most people were already parents when they were sixteen. Having a child at twenty-five meant they were behind their peers. They cared about Roy tremendously, and worried he might get hurt. Because of that, he seldom worked in the fields.

Roy was a quiet one. He listened to his parents, kept to himself, and always had a sheepish smile on his face. He was a stark contrast to the wild children who stampeded the village every chance they could.

“Roy’s a good child. Such a pity…”

The thought of Roy’s condition tore into Moore’s wound further. They’d thought they would live a happy and peaceful life with their son forever, but alas, it was cut short. Four days ago, a woman blazed through the village on horseback, and Roy was in her way. The horse only grazed him, but that single graze took him out.

The village’s unskilled herbalist failed to find out what was wrong with Roy, and he thought the boy was done for. The next day though, as if by miracle, Roy woke up. However, he was a changed boy. His eyes were dead, and he was quiet, not answering when spoken to. All he did was stare into the sky like a person who had lost their mind.

Moore sighed. It was getting late, and he picked up his hoe before going back home. He was still worried about his son.

The villagers’ houses were primitive and ugly, made out of thatch and wood. A single gale could have blown the rickety buildings away. Kaer was a small village, housing about a hundred families.

Moore’s house was situated on the western side of the village. It was high noon when Moore came back, and the sun glared at them without any mercy. Despite that, a young child stared back into the sun, eyes unblinking, as if he were a soulless puppet. Beside him stood a plain, rough-skinned village lady who was feeding the chickens.

“Why is he staring into the sun? What if he hurts his eyes? Susie! I thought I told you to keep an eye on him. Don’t you know this is bad for him?”

Moore rushed into his yard and waded through the overgrown weed to pick up his son. He placed Roy before the front door and patted his buzz cut-trimmed hair.

A hint of tenderness blossomed on Moore’s dry, yellowed face. “Never do that again, Roy. Okay?”

Roy wouldn’t respond to anyone or anything after waking up a while ago, but when Moore called him again, something flickered within him, and his eyes started clearing up. “Huh? Dad? Luo Yi… No, Roy,” he mumbled. “Right. My name is now Roy.”

“D-Did you just talk, Roy?” Surprised, Moore huddled closer to Roy, intending to confirm he was talking. Finally, he got his answer. His son, who had been quiet for the past three days, had started to speak again. At least he didn’t turn mute.

“Come here, Susie! Leave the animals alone! Roy just talked!” Moore shouted, and Susie came a moment later, obviously in a hurry.

The couple hugged Roy, and when he called out their names, tears streamed down their faces. Roy looked at his parents, Moore and Susie, closely. They weren’t exactly good looking, but they weren’t ugly either. Their clothes were made out of hemp, and they looked worn out. Their skin was rough, and they looked gaunt from overworking. They had the feel of two innocent, welcoming villagers.

“So they’re my parents.” Tears welled up in Roy’s eyes, and something tugged at his heartstrings. He hugged his parents back.

At the same time, two different sets of memories fused within him. Before Roy, he was Luo Yi, a high school dropout in C Nation. At the same time, Roy was living in Kaer, a village in Lower Posada, the southern border of a nation called Aedirn.

Luo Yi’s parents died in a freak accident, and he quit school after their deaths. He was a shut-in who became addicted to the world of games. Once he would use up all the compensation fees, Luo Yi would kill himself. He had no parents, no car, no money, and was a game addict. That was effectively a death sentence in his original society.

On the other hand, Roy might’ve only been the child of lowly, impoverished peasants, but his parents loved him. Luo Yi longed for that kind of relationship.

“I got addicted to games just so I could fill the void in my heart. And now I have a second chance to do so. The gods are smiling on me.” Luo Yi inherited all of Roy’s feelings and memories, which made him feel close to Moore and Susie.

“What happened to you, Roy?” Susie asked. “You scared us!”

“T-The horse shocked me. All I could remember was how afraid I was. I don’t know what happened.”

“Stop with the questions!” Moore roared at his wife. “All that matters is that Roy is okay. That’s all that matters.” He patted Roy’s head lovingly.

After calming his worried parents down, Roy looked around his new abode, and a bitter smile painted on his face. The walls were uneven and rickety, the house only having a fireplace, a steel cauldron, a few tables and chairs, and two sets of beds ⁠— if anyone could call a stack of hay covered by pieces of worn out cloth a bed.

Lunch was made in a short while. A few dry, hard, disfigured loaves of bread, an egg, two dried fish, and a bowl of assorted vegetable soup were laid out before him. The food was plain enough, and there was no seasoning. Salt was a luxury in the household.

Roy thought the food was weird, but despite it, he took a bite. “Don’t complain, Roy. You didn’t get to eat organic greens like this in your past life.”

Because of his body’s instincts, Roy accepted the food’s taste not long after he took his first bite. Famished after days of not eating, his hunger prompted him to wolf down the food. A short while later, the scarce meal became scarcer.

“Slow down, son. You don’t want to choke on the food.”

The couple stared at their son with a grin. They kept piling the food in his plate, but they didn’t touch the food themselves, though they’d pop some dried fish into their mouths once in a while.

***

Moore and Susie left the house in the afternoon after deciding they would butcher a chicken for Roy that night. And then Roy’s expression turned serious.

Aedirn. How familiar. Roy used to play “The Witcher 3” for many hours, and the name “Aedirn” was no stranger to him. It was one of The Four Kingdoms. This was a world of witchers and monsters. Bandits, monsters, plagues, and disasters were commonplace in the world and era Roy was in. Humans struggled to stay alive, clawing at the chance to live for even a day longer.

If I have no power, I could die at any time.

According to Roy’s original memories, he was in the year 1260. If the lore was right, the talented king of Nilfgaard, the White Flame, Emhyr var Emreis, would launch the first Northern War in three years. Even though the war would start in Cintra ⁠— a faraway nation in the west of Lower Posada ⁠— the soldiers might escape to their region, and chaos would follow.

And in seven years, in 1267, the second Northern War would swing into motion, and Aedirn would not survive it.

Do I have any power? What should I do? I must at least keep Moore and Susie safe. Even though he was only thirteen, Roy didn’t have much time on his hands if he wanted to save his parents. Fortunately, he didn’t cross into this world without anything to help him. Like many otherworlders, he had his own cheat to help him on his quest.

Chapter 2: His Cheat

Open my character sheet, Roy thought, and a slew of weird messages flooded his mind.

‘Character Sheet:

Roy

Age: Thirteen years and seven months old

Gender: Male (This detail will not be shown in the future)

Status: Civilian

(You are the child of a farmer. Up until now, you have received no professional training, nor have you studied in any field. You have not mastered any skills yet, and your talent is still hidden.)

HP: 40 (Healthy)

Strength: 4 (5). Strength decides the attack power of some physical attacks. Increases the weight you can carry, enabling you to wear heavier but stronger protective gear, as well as using heavier weapons. Affects your endurance to an extent.

Dexterity: 5 (5). Dexterity decides your movement speed, attack speed, reflexes, and balance. High dexterity enables you to dodge, react to, and block attacks. Also allows you to perform difficult movements.

Constitution: 4 (5). As a base for your endurance, constitution decides how many hits you can take, your run speed, and your battle prowess. Affects life regeneration to an extent.

Perception: 5 (5). Perception includes your five senses. You have a chance to predict incoming danger, as well as increase your efficiency in assessing your surroundings. Perception increases your chances of finding buried treasure. Someone with higher perception also has a better chance of sensing incoming danger. They can notice the secrets hidden in the void as well.

Will: 4 (5). Will decides your resistance against mental attacks and your recovery speed from psychological debuffs, such as pain and sadness. The higher your will, the calmer you can stay in dangerous situations, leading to a perfect execution of your movements. If your will is great enough, you will be able to affect physical objects.

Charisma: 5 (5). Your looks, aura, and speech skills factor into deciding your charisma. Charisma plays a role in communicating with the same species. High charisma can win someone’s affection easily, and those from your species will be invariably drawn to you.

Spirit: 6 (5). Spirit decides the level of your concentration, making you focus on the task ahead of you. Can also increase your absorption rate, amount of acceptance, and control over the four elements, which is also known as chaos energy. Affects the strength of spells and pseudo spells.

PR/N: From what we’ve understood, (5) refers to a healthy adult. So 4 (5) means slightly below a healthy adult, 5 (5) means the same level as a healthy adult, and 6 (5) means better than a healthy adult.

Skill: None

Inventory space: 1 cubic meter

Misc.: Unknown

EXP: 1/100 (Once the EXP bar is filled out, you may level up. Each level shall grant you one attribute point and one skill point.)’

The character sheet was Roy’s cheat in this world. Thanks to it, he stayed under the sun for three days, for absorbing its energy would help him clear his confused state. At the same time, he gained one EXP from staying under the sun.

“So the sun gives me 0.33 EXP per day. In that case, staying under it for 333 days would fill my EXP bar and level me up.” Roy calmed down. Staying under the sun to level up was a stupid idea, but it was the safest way to do so.

Hm, if the sun can grant me EXP, can the food here do the same? That was a nice idea, but unfeasible in reality. Roy only had enough food to stave off starvation and keep him healthy. The energy in it wasn’t enough to be converted into EXP. “So if I want to increase my stats, I’ll have to find a way to earn some crowns and fill my belly.”

A/N: Crowns are the currency of the game. The only currency in the northern kingdoms are Temeria orens, alternatively known as orens, while Aedirn’s currencies are ducats and marks. That’d make the exchange rate too confusing, so from now on, we’ll be using crowns and orens. The exchange rate for the currency is one to one.

If he could make enough crowns, Roy could even hire mercenaries or reputable witchers to escort his parents as they left for the city of freedom, Novigrad, located in Redania, which was northwest of their village. Redania was involved in the Northern Wars, but the nation wasn’t affected. At least the civilians could live their lives out there in peace.

“Money aside, I have to see if there’s any other way to gain EXP.”

Considering the game and Roy’s experience with it, killing monsters would be the most likely way to gain EXP, and the world of “The Witcher” was filled with all kinds of creatures. If he were to wander around in the wilderness beyond the village or rivers around it, he might just bump into a drowner if he was unlucky.

Roy was just a frail, feeble boy who had no combat prowess. If he were to go out and hunt, he’d be torn to pieces by the dogs and wolves on the way. Then he’d have died for nothing.

Obviously, he couldn’t respawn in this world, unlike in the game. “I have to be careful. Legends start from the unlikeliest of places. I should start with a smaller creature.”

He went into the yard and threw a glance at the big, white goat that stood out from the rest of the animals. No. That goat can provide milk, and it’s too big for me to handle. He gave up on killing the goat, and a few roosters leaped happily in front of him. Roy gritted his teeth and went back in to grab a knife. “Dad’s going to kill one tonight for me anyway. Why don’t I do it myself?”

Roy set his murderous gaze on a big, fat, grey rooster. Noticing the impending danger, the rooster crowed shrilly and leaped around the coop, trying to escape murder.

If anyone were to pass by, they’d come across a hilarious scene: a scrawny young man chasing after a majestic grey rooster. The creature continued cawing and running for his life, while the boy wouldn’t stop pursuing it.

Roy kept falling and getting up, unwilling to give up. When he was already drenched in sweat, and his legs turned to jelly, he finally caught the rooster’s wings. Roy held the knife under its neck, but he didn’t make the kill.

“I haven’t even killed anything up until now. Not even a chicken. Didn’t expect my first kill in life to be a big, stupid rooster.”

That reminded him of the legendary witcher, Geralt of Rivia. Geralt had many titles, some of which included “The White Wolf”, “The Butcher of Blaviken”, and “The Giant Slayer”. Roy thought those titles were cool and menacing.

“Nobody can know of this. What if I become a legend someday, and the bard calls me “The Rooster Slayer”? That’d be dumb.”

That thought made Roy pick up the pace. He made a clumsy slash across the rooster’s neck, and blood spurted into the sky. Some of it even splashed onto his face.

At the same time, the rooster extended its claws and crowed for the final time in its life. A short while later, it lay on the ground, convulsing and taking its last breath as Roy grinned.

2/100! It worked! “I knew it! This works!”

He was glad that nobody saw him kill the rooster, but then a panicked scream reached him, “By the gods! R-Roy the fool’s possessed by a monster! He killed his family’s chicken!” A snotty, eight-year-old brat had a horrified expression on his face as he shouted out the “murder” of the rooster. Roy swore the whole village could have heard his scream. He was just like the screaming groundhog meme Roy saw in his past life.

The boy’s appearance made Roy’s eyes shine, and he was obviously not concerned with the accusation the boy made. That boy’s Brandon, the son of the butcher.

As the official butcher for a backwater village like Kaer, every villager had to ask for his help whenever they needed to slaughter their livestock. “If I manage to become the butcher’s apprentice, I’d have loads of EXP to gain.”

Chapter 3: The Butcher

The village’s streets were uneven, rugged, and trodden, with puddles of water that could be seen all across them, glimmering under the sun. A young man and child were going toward Fletcher the butcher’s house on the northern side of the village.

If Roy remembered correctly, Fletcher was Susie’s distant relative, and they’d visit each other occasionally. Maybe this can work.

“Hah! Look at you, Rooster Slayer. You’re scrawny and weak. Even a bat’s larger than you. You want to be my father’s apprentice? Go home and stare at the sun like you always do,” Brandon derided, sucking the snot that was drooling down to his lip.

Roy trailed behind Brandon. The boy was barely four feet tall, while Roy was about five feet, four inches. As he looked down at Brandon’s bob cut, Roy pressed down on the strands of hair that stood out to flatten them down. Before Brandon could look back, Roy pulled his hand away.

PR/N: Four feet is around 1.22 meters. Five feet, four inches is around 1.63 meters.

Well, that’s the spot.

He was an eighteen-year-old man in his past life, so Roy thought there was no need to argue with a brat. He shrugged, looking nonchalant. “I’m already thirteen. So what if I killed a chicken? Only bumpkin brats like you would get scared. Rooster Slayer? That’s a dumb name. Where did you come up with it? In dummy land?”

“You’re a fool who can’t even toil the field, and yet you can kill a chicken? Obviously, you’re possessed by a demon, so I’ll have to keep monitoring you closely. Wait, did you just call me a bumpkin?” Brandon wiped the snot off his lips with his fat, dirty hands, before wiping his fingers on his clean shirt.

Brandon’s financial standing was better than most families in the village, thanks to him being the butcher’s son. He never starved, and his clothes were always clean. Even though he was a young child, his peers were nothing but his sycophants. Because of that, he had a superiority complex since he was young, and he tolerated no insult toward his person.

“Hey, bumpkin! My father saw Queen Meve of Lyria and Rivia at the winter solstice festival. and he told me about that grand event every night! You’ve never even stepped out of this village, and you call me a bumpkin?”

“Oh, so you’re saying that Uncle Fletcher brags to you every night, huh? Has he ever told you about magic tricks then?” Roy observed Brandon’s expression calmly. When he heard about magic tricks, Brandon’s eyes shone, and they filled with longing and admiration as he blabbered about it.

Roy was relieved to see Brandon’s interest in tricks. He stopped in his tracks and puffed out his chest. “If you can convince Uncle Fletcher to take me as his apprentice, then I, the great Roy, will show you one magical trick.”

“Yeah, tell that to Don Quixote’s kid, maybe that’ll work. I won’t be… fooled?” Brandon choked on his words, and his jaw dropped to the point someone could put an egg in his mouth. His eyes widened, and his snot drooled down uncontrollably.

“H-How did you do it?” Right before his very eyes, under the glaring sun, the pebble in Roy’s right hand had disappeared without a trace, as if it had moved away before anyone realized it.

When Roy clenched his fist and opened it again, the pebble appeared out of thin air. “See that? That’s the trick I told you about.” Roy was satisfied with the reaction he got from Brandon. The secret to that trick was Roy’s inventory space. The pebble was transported there, and all Roy had to do was think about it to make it reappear.

“I don’t believe you! Do it again!”

“Let’s do it with a different item this time. Do you have any money?” Roy asked.

“Sure I do.” Brandon would smuggle money from his father sometimes to treat his buddies to some dried fruit and fruit wine in the inn.

“I’ll need one crown to do this. If you can kindly give it to me.”

Piqued by his curiosity, Brandon fell for Roy’s ruse. He took out a yellow coin — a crown — and gave it to Roy. He then craned his neck to see the trick. Roy closed his palm and turned his hand down, and when he turned it back up, the crown had disappeared into thin air.

“I stayed at home all the time to learn this trick. Now that I’ve mastered it, I think I should show it to you guys.”

Brandon, still skeptical, searched Roy, but he found no place where Roy could have hidden the crown. Left with no excuses, he agreed to Roy’s deal.

“Right. You teach me this trick, and I’ll ask my dad to take you as his apprentice. This is a good deal.”

“Oh, and one more thing you need to know.” Since Brandon didn’t ask for his money back, Roy kept it for himself. “Don’t ever call me Rooster Slayer, and don’t tell anyone about it.”

***

In the butcher’s house stood a pudgy middle-aged man who was caressing a cow hung upside down by the limbs on a butchering rack. As he was about to slaughter it, the butcher noticed Roy and Brandon coming in. He ignored Roy and roared angrily at his fat son. “Where’d you go again, you brat? You missed the chief’s classes for half a month this time! Do you think money grows on trees? If you keep on being illiterate, you can forget about being a bard! Be a butcher like me!”

Brandon stared down and blushed after his father exposed his dream. He was a butcher’s son, but his dream was to become a bard who traveled the world and told various stories to people he met along the way. If anyone knew about it, they’d laugh their socks off.

There were only three villagers in Kaer who knew how to read and write, including the chief. Most of the villagers would have to pay if they wanted to write to their relatives. Even though Fletcher was a mere brute, he didn’t want his son to be illiterate.

“If you can get the chief’s praise, I’ll get Tom to take you to Vengerberg, Brandon! If you can learn everything from him, I’ll get you to Oxenfurt University even if it bankrupts me! Your mother wanted you to go before she passed away. Don’t disappoint her!”

Roy didn’t think much about it when he heard about Brandon wanting to be a bard, but he was surprised after hearing what Fletcher said. This guy has a big dream.

Being a butcher was a lucrative job, but educated people enjoyed better status in the world. Someone who could read and write the common speech of the northern kingdoms could live a great life in any village. If they were lucky enough to be a scribe in a city, they could garner great respect. If they managed to get into a university, they’d be almost revered.

The university Fletcher mentioned, Oxenfurt, was one of the best universities in the world, and only the Nilfgaardian Imperial Academy was on par with it. Geralt’s best friends, Jaskier and Shani, were graduates of Oxenfurt.

You can’t underestimate villagers, huh?

Roy looked at Fletcher, then at Brandon.

Fletcher was still yelling at his son and ignoring Roy. “Get into the house, you brat!”

Brandon gave a pleading look at Roy, and Roy went up to Fletcher. “Uncle Fletcher, I’m — ”

The butcher waved him down impatiently and interjected. “You’re all healed up, aren’t you, Roy? Take some meat with you later when you go back. Susie’s worried sick about you, so spend some time with her.”

Brandon, still wanting to learn the magic trick, croaked despite his fear, “Fletcher, he wants to be your apprentice.”

“Him?” Fletcher glanced at Roy. “I am looking for an apprentice, but you’ve never even toiled in the fields. Susie won’t let you. Also, you’re frail and feeble. How long will it take for you to process one animal? Half a day? No, you can’t be my apprentice. Just go away,” Fletcher said honestly.

Being a butcher might’ve been exhausting and dirty, but everyone wanted to do it. As long as they had the skill, they could earn many crowns and luxury. Fletcher wanted Brandon to inherit the business — for it would set him up for life — but since Brandon could learn common speech, Fletcher didn’t force him into it. Brandon had a better future anyway.

Since Roy was frail, most of the ways to gain EXP were dangerous for him. He needed a safe, stable source of EXP, so a little hurdle wouldn’t stop him. He cracked his fingers and put on a serious look. “Give me a chance to explain, Uncle Fletcher.”

He nodded.

“I’ve talked this through with my parents, so I’m calling the shots here.” Roy paused. “You said a tough body is essential for a butcher, and you’re right, but more than that, a great butcher must be skilful and experienced. I think that can be attained if I put in enough work. I know you can cut up all the livestock perfectly even with your eyes closed, because you’re experienced.

“I might be frail now, but I’m young, energetic, and still growing. Also, I can learn fast. If you’re willing to teach me, I won’t let you down, I promise.” Roy gritted his teeth and made another offer. “If I can’t work well in my apprenticeship, I’ll work for free. All I need is some occasional meat.”

After hearing the offer, the butcher grinned. “You’ve changed, Roy. You used to be really quiet, but now you’re a glib tongue. Looks like I have to take you in then. Right, I’ll give you a chance for Susie’s sake. Can you make the kill?” He moved away, revealing the cow behind him.

“If you can kill this big old cow here and keep your barf down, I’ll take you as my apprentice.”

He thought Roy wouldn’t make the kill, for a young man like him had never seen blood. However, the soul inhabiting this body lived in a time where information was free, and gore was abundant. Roy, or to be more precise, Luo Yi, had seen worse than a cow’s butcher.

Roy took the butcher’s knife from Fletcher calmly before going up to the hanging cow. He then turned back and said sincerely, “Uncle Fletcher, to be honest, I had a long dream after the horse crashed into me, and I’ve decided to change myself after I woke up. I’m just a villager who knows nothing about toiling in the fields, but I have to learn something to support myself and the family. Moore and Susie’s been taking care of me for a long time now. It’s time I pay my dues.”

A deafening silence befell the butcher’s home. All the color drained from Brandon’s face, and he held his breath. He might’ve been the butcher’s son, but he’d never killed anything. Every time Fletcher worked, he would stay far, far away and cover his ears. The frail Roy, who was holding the gleaming butcher’s knife, looked so familiar, yet so alien to him.

Roy’s not the timid guy he used to be, Brandon thought.

Surprise flared on Fletcher’s glistening face. Did Roy just grow up? He’s already working for his family. Then he glanced at the snotty brat who was his son.

Should I get a horse to crash into this brat? That seems like how someone would grow as a person.

“Roy, there should be a bulge around the cow’s neck. I just found it earlier. Use the knife and stab into that. If you do it right, the cow should die peacefully.”

The moment Fletcher said that, Roy squinted. He thought back at how he killed the chicken, and grasped the feeling he’d had when he’d slit its throat.

Roy made a calm swing, and the knife made a clean, fierce stab. Roy pierced the cow’s neck and pulled the knife out in a moment. The animal stared at him, wide-eyed, for the final time in its life. Tears streamed down its face, and it mooed weakly before taking its last breath without any struggle.

At the same time, Roy’s character sheet showed he had seven EXP. Obviously, killing the cow granted him five EXP.

It was his second kill, but he didn’t retch, nor did he buzz with excitement.

Killing a cow was different from killing a chicken. Instead of being elated about getting the experience, Roy felt sad, and also scared.

Why do I gain EXP from killing? How does it work anyway? How many EXP can I gain if I kill a human? Are living beings nothing but EXP for my character sheet? And how does it dictate the amount of EXP I gain for the kill I make? The size? Or the life force? Or the creature’s soul? Or… something else? Countless questions popped into his mind, and he must kill to find the answer to those questions. He stood before the dead cow, stunned, and blood dripped from his knife.

At the same time, Fletcher let out a hearty laugh and smacked his shoulder. The impact from that smack snapped Roy out of his trance. “Nice kill! Didn’t expect you to be this gutsy. Say, did you get braver after almost being crushed by the horse? Either way, you made the cut. If you don’t mind getting yourself dirty and exhausted, come here before dawn tomorrow. Make it through, and you’ll be getting some meat. Some crowns too, if you’re exceptional.”

Fletcher was getting on in age. His son spent all his time learning common speech and refused to inherit the business. The butcher desperately needed a helper. Roy might’ve been frail, but Fletcher had watched over him over the years. Roy was an honest boy who knew how to give back. Because of Susie, he was also Roy’s uncle, so Fletcher didn’t mind teaching him the skill.

Roy snapped out of his sadness, and resolve stirred within him. “I’ll be here on time, Uncle Fletcher.” I can barely feed myself, and an unknown danger is approaching. I can’t feel sorry for a cow when I have to kill more creatures. That’d make me a hypocrite, he mocked himself. Then Roy stopped feeling sorry and gripped the knife tightly.

Chapter 4: First Day for the Newbie

That night, Roy begged Moore and Susie to let him work as the butcher’s apprentice. The couple refused at first, but they couldn’t keep it up as Roy didn’t stop, so they agreed.

The couple had been by Roy’s side since the day he was born, and they thought it was bizarre that Roy’s demeanor had completely changed after waking up. He used to be a quiet, timid child, but then he became talkative and expressive.

However, the concern shown by Roy toward them wasn’t fake, so the innocent couple didn’t suspect anything. Instead, they felt relieved about their son’s change. They thought that the accident matured him and made him grow up.

When the next day came, the Kaer villagers were surprised to see a frail Roy following the butcher around.

“Did Moore’s kid turn insane after almost getting crushed? He’s as weak as a girl. He can’t butcher anything.”

“Oh, what do you know, you bumpkin? The boy had a brush with death. Of course he’s going to change, but I bet he won’t last the week. Not everyone can be a butcher, and it’s a lucrative job. Why’d Fletcher want to share with him?”

The villagers gossiped about him, but Roy ignored their nasty comments. All he wanted to do was work with Fletcher, but after a day, he found out that a butcher’s job was different from what he’d had in mind.

After the bigger livestock were sent to the butcher’s place, Fletcher would feed the cows and goats some yellow powder that would paralyze them to prevent them from struggling as they were killed.

Fletcher told him the powder was an anesthetic the village’s herbalist gave him. After killing the livestock came the hardest part: cutting up the meat perfectly. If they wanted to keep the muscle intact after cutting it, the butcher had to have a thorough understanding of the anatomy of cows, goats, and pigs.

Fletcher wasn’t talented enough to draw the anatomy of the livestock. All he could do was teach Roy through action.

When Roy saw Fletcher calmly skin the cow, disembowel it, and filet the meat, he started to puke. The stench of the cow’s insides filled the air, becoming a miasma of everything that was foul in the world. Everywhere he looked, Roy could only see a crimson hue, the cow’s blood splattering everywhere.

His stomach churned, and he retched again. The kill wasn’t much, but the disassembling of the livestock was a great test of his will.

The butcher chortled. “I knew something was off when you killed that cow so easily yesterday. Now you know how gory this line of work is. Told you it’s dirty and exhausting. Why else do you think everyone else stays away from being a butcher? Well, everyone except you, Roy. Of course, you ain’t going to get my business this easily. See if you can keep up until the end.”

When Roy recovered from his retching, his head felt fuzzy, and his legs were starting to turn to jelly. But the butcher didn’t give him time to rest.

“Come here and take the knife. I’ll teach you how to make a perfect cut. Let’s start with strength control. Start here, and cut upward.”

“I said up! The fuck are you cutting?! Dammit! Put your back into it!”

Every little mistake Roy made earned him a harsh scolding from Fletcher.

Gods, he complained quietly. Not only does the apprentice have to wade through the bloody scene, they have to endure this scolding and get worked to the bone.

It didn’t take long for Roy to start feeling sore in his arms. His Constitution was four, one point lower than a healthy adult. Because of that, he would tire easily. The exhaustion from his body and soul was starting to take a toll, wearing him down.

Why did I ask to be an apprentice? I did this to myself.

Even though Roy was grumbling in silence, he finished the job Fletcher gave him. It was more important than his own feelings, but the point here was that every livestock he killed granted him EXP.

I am working for someone else after all. Even so, I get to train my body, gain EXP, and I even have meat. Perfect. Nothing to complain about.

His first day of being an apprentice finally came to an arduous end after butchering two cows. The clients were from another village, and Fletcher received ten crowns for his service. “Business ain’t this good every day,” Fletcher told him.

Kaer only had a hundred families or so. Even if they included business from the other villages, it wasn’t as if Fletcher had work all the time.

When their job was done for the day, Fletcher, in all his generosity, gave Roy a piece of meat the size of his hand. Fletcher didn’t see him as free labor either. He’d pay Roy one crown per week, but Roy didn’t complain. He was just starting out in that line of work, so money wasn’t important early on.

“What should we do with the innards, Uncle Fletcher?”

“Toss ‘em out.”

The world of “The Witcher” was similar to the European continent in Roy’s past life. Not everyone could stomach the innards of livestocks. After the bigger livestock were butchered, their innards would be buried in the wilds and burned. Either that, or they’d be fed to the fish in a river.

“Can I take them?” Roy didn’t care that much. He lived in C Nation in his past life, where everyone ate everything under the sun, and he had his fair share of innards. Innards? So what? Meat is meat. He was a growing boy, and he’d get his hands on any food.

As dusk started to fall, the shadows became longer, connecting them to the twilight world. Roy washed the blood from the butcher’s yard and left with a heavy, bloody bag of innards. The weight of it almost made him pass out, but he endured. The day of butchering also netted him ten EXP.

As the sun started its descent down the horizon, smoke started billowing above the chimneys of Kaer’s rickety houses. The men who’d toiled in the fields for the whole day came back with their hoes thrown over their shoulders. The children, filthy after a day’s worth of games, played chase with their livestock in the yard. As the sky darkened, candlelight started illuminating the houses, providing a shred of warmth to the night.

Roy took a deep breath. “I wonder how much longer this peace will last.”

- - -

When he was just a short distance away from his home, Roy could vaguely see two soldiers coming to the village. They were clad in yellow armor, and they had swords hanging from their belts. Once the soldiers took a few heavy bags, they went back to their cart and left in a hurry. The villagers were already used to the soldiers’ arrival, so they didn’t react to them.

Roy knew what was happening. Everyone in Kaer had to give the ruler of Lower Posada a part of their harvest as tax. The ruler took a whopping thirty percent of the villagers’ harvest, leaving them with just enough to live their lives. Moore had skullcaps and common hop in his yard, and after collecting the harvest, handed two bags of dried skullcaps to the ruler.

Skullcaps were similar to tobacco leaves on Earth. Whenever they had time, the villagers would whip their pipes out, pop the skullcap in, and puff the smoke. It was their way of living life.

Taxes were common everywhere, especially Aedirn. Every nation under its rule, including proxy nations, had to pay higher taxes compared to the other three northern kingdoms. Because of that, Aedirn was constantly under the threat of peasant movements.

As Roy went around to chat with the villagers, he found out that a peasant movement had blown up in Aldersberg, southern Aedirn.

“What the heck is the monarchy thinking? No wonder Aedirn lost its rights to both the northern and southern part of the nation in the end. No wonder it became a broken nation.”

“Danger is approaching. I have to race with time.”

Food was the only thing that could stave off Roy’s stress for a while. He still had some rooster meat from the kill from a day ago, and after coming home with beef, Susie cooked up a big pot of meat soup. It still wasn’t seasoned, and it was still tasteless, and Roy could still taste the meat’s stench. Even so, they at least had meat.

Fletcher might have discarded the innards, but Roy took them back and cleaned them up. He then scrounged for some celery, wild greens, and salt he gleaned from his parents after a bit of begging. After that, he stir fried the ingredients.

The aroma and stench of meat wafted throughout the house from Roy’s stir-fried meat and innards. If it was the old him, Roy wouldn’t have eaten a crude dish like that, but his new body didn’t mind it. Food was precious in their era, and meat scarce. Also, people only had two meals here, so a growing boy like him wouldn’t let go of any chance to gobble meat up.

Meat was great, but it was a shame Roy only gained 0.1 EXP from it. And he understood that killing creatures was the best way to level up. “I can level up quickly even if I only make a few kills every other day.” Roy was starting to look forward to his butchering life.

Chapter 5: The Inn and Gwent

As the night turned dark, the villagers started blowing their candlelights out. The men went to sleep with their wives beside them, while the children stared into the night sky and counted the sheep. Thompson, the night patrol, went around the village with nothing but a torch and his rusty sword. His job was to chase away any beasts or bandits, and to signal everyone if danger was coming.

The only places that were still bright were the chief’s home and the ramshackle inn in the village center — Ol’ Captain’s Inn.

Occasionally, single young men with time to spare would frequent the inn to spend the night away from home. Once they had a few drinks, they’d get high and call the inn’s boss — One-Eyed Jack — for a game of Gwent. One-Eyed Jack was a bearded man who loved to brag about his younger days that were spent on the seas of Skellige Isles.

Ol’ Captain’s Inn was illuminated warmly by the crackling fireplace and the luminescent candles that hung along the walls. It was a quiet place, one where a few customers were enjoying their drinks after a day of hard work.

Roy was standing before the Gwent game board, and his eyes gleamed as he looked at the delicate, beautiful cards. Gods, these are actual Gwent cards!

Gwent was first created by a dwarf as a way to stave off boredom, but it quickly grew in popularity thanks to its simple rules and interesting and ever-changing gameplay. Nobles and civilians alike loved to play a few matches in their spare time.

The characters in the cards were based on the legendary characters in the world, such as King Emhyr of Nilfgaard, King Foltest of Temeria, King Demavend of Aedirn — who was wearing a crown — and the beautiful Queen Meve of Lyria and Rivia.

Every Gwent card was a dwarf’s labor of love. Their flawless craftsmanship, gorgeous artwork, and perfect design were divine and impossible to forge. Some of the unique cards were created by a dwarf grandmaster, making them masterpieces.

A normal card would usually go for a couple of crowns at most, and most shops would sell a few of them. Some of the rarer ones could cost as much as a house in Vengerberg, the capital of Aedirn, but the collectors who would sell those were scarce.

After watching a few matches, Roy saw Nilfgaardian decks, Northern Kingdom decks, and even Skellige Isles decks, but there were no monster cards or Scoia’tael decks. Monster cards were rare, while Scoia’tael decks, well…

Scoia’tael was an alliance who helped Nilfgaard ambush the humans in the Northern Kingdoms in the war. The Northern War hadn’t begun yet in the year 1260, which meant nobody knew of Scoia’tael, and that meant no decks. Scoia’tael decks would only emerge after the Northern War, where a dwarf grandmaster would create the expansion pack.

“Hey, Roy, why aren’t you at home? It’s past your bedtime. You shouldn’t be in an inn.” When One-Eyed Jack tried to pat Roy’s head with his furry hand, Roy evaded it easily.

Roy gave him a sheepish grin. He was only thirteen, so acting cute wasn’t something to be ashamed about. As long as it gets me what I need. “I’m waiting for Brandon, Jack. He said he’d treat me to some fruit wine tonight,” Roy lied. He was waiting because he had a deal to keep. He’d teach Brandon a simple magic trick he’d learned online in his past life.

The Gwent match came as a surprise though. Roy thought he could make some money out of it, for the players in Witcher 3 would invariably get addicted to Gwent.

An ugly smile carved itself on One-Eyed Jack’s weathered, wrinkly face. “That fatso? He’d steal his old man’s money just to have some booze here. His wine is diluted with water though. If I didn’t do that, ol’ Fletcher would have found out about it and whooped his ass. Don’t pick up that habit.” At the same time, his eyes shone, and One-Eyed Jack quickly placed a white Gwent card on the board.

That play turned his opponent’s face as white as the card One-Eyed Jack placed.

“Take this, Otter! Biting Frost! All your Close Combat cards’ strength is now 1! Thirty-five to twenty! Game, set, and match!”

Jack pooled the crowns to himself, the coins clattering against the table as they moved.

Otter the farmer’s face fell. “Dammit. My luck’s worse than the fish in Kovir. That’s it. I’m out for the night.” He darted out of the inn.

Then Roy quickly took his place and stared at One-Eyed Jack.

“Sit somewhere else, boy. My old friend’s coming, and tonight I’m going to win all his crowns. I ain’t taking no for an answer.”

“Jack, since we both have nothing to do, why don’t I play with you as your warmup?”

Jack shook his head. “Do you even have Gwent cards?” There’s no way a kid would have the money for Gwent.

“Aw, come on. Everyone knows Captain Jack’s a collector. You have tons of cards in your collection. There must be more than one copy of some. Can’t you just make a deck for me?” Roy clasped his hands and gazed at Jack with sparkling eyes.

Jack sighed. “You used to be so sweet and sheepish. What happened to you? Did someone drill obstinance into your head? You sure won’t back down.” Jack raised his hand to smack Roy, but then he remembered something, and he stopped.

“Fine, I owe you this. I can lend you my cards, but there’s no point playing Gwent without any bets. If you lose, you’ll have to clean up my inn once. Deal?”

“What if I win?”

“You get one crown.”

“But you got two crowns per win,” Roy blurted. Jack was about to fly into a rage, but Roy covered his mouth before he could say anything else.

A short while later, Roy had a Northern Realms deck made out of thirty-five cards. Thirty-one of them were unit cards that had a strength of six or less, and four were weather cards. There wasn’t even one unique hero card. Not one.

Gwent cards were smooth and soft to the touch. It felt even better than a teenage girl’s perfect skin, and for an instant, Roy was reluctant to let them go.

On the other hand, Roy had no idea about One-Eyed Jack’s deck.

The game started shortly after. Sometime later, Brandon scurried to the table to watch the match, and a dark-skinned man measuring over six feet four came along.

PR/N: Six feet four is around 1.93 meters.

They did nothing but watch silently. Roy started the game slow, playing his cards hesitantly. On the other hand, Jack was nonchalant. He crossed his arms whenever it was Roy’s turn, and he played lightning fast when it was his. Roy, inevitably, lost the first two rounds.

However, as the matches went on, Roy ended up turning the tables, winning match after match. Jack stared at the board, unblinking. He found it harder to make his moves, and his face fell after every loss.

“You cheated, you little bastard!” Jack roared as he shot up. It was half an hour later. His face was red from the tension, and he looked like an angered lion. Before he could do anything, an impossible muscly hand pushed him down to his seat.

“I’ve been watching the whole time, captain. Roy didn’t cheat. I guarantee it.” Seeger had a sure look on his face, though a smile spread across his lips silently. He loved it when Jack lost, for Seeger never won a Gwent match against him.

Roy gave the red-haired man a look of gratitude.

The man was Seeger, a Kaer villager and blacksmith who worked as a repairman for the villagers’ farming tools. Roy heard that Seeger used to be in Jack’s crew, and they had run a trade ship on the Skellige Isles. After Jack’s retirement, Seeger came with him to Aedirn to settle down. Seeger wasn’t born and raised in Aedirn; he was a Skellige Isles local, and the man was an honest one.

“You should thank the horse that crashed into you, Roy.” Seeger smacked Roy’s head. “You used to act like a girl, but now, now you’re starting to look like a man.”

***

After that little episode, the Gwent match went on for half an hour, totaling to eight matches in the end. One-Eyed Jack lost five of them, and a whopping five crowns sat quietly on Roy’s side of the table. He’d have to work with Fletcher for more than a month to earn what he’d made during that one night.

“Unbelievable. Are you really siding with this brat, o great Melitele? My deck is two times better than his, but I lost five matches? This can’t be real. Even if he’s skilled, he can’t beat me that easily.”

Still frustrated over his loss, Jack glowered at Roy. Roy worried silently after being glared at. Did I go too far?

He did cheat, but nobody saw it. Roy kept two weather cards in his inventory space when nobody was looking, and throughout the matches, he’d swapped his cards to freeze Jack’s units. That lowered their strength, which Jack worked so hard to pile up. Gods, that was fun.

“Because I am lucky.” Roy tried to sound as calm as possible. “Nobody is luckier than me when it comes to Gwent. The great Melitele has granted me her blessing.”

“Dammit!” Jack slammed the wall, and it shook from the impact. “If it weren’t for that damned thief, Sasha, you wouldn’t have won. She stole my Mysterious Elf!”

Sasha? Roy paused for a moment at the mention of that name. He thought he’d met Sasha in the game, but he couldn’t remember who she was.

Brandon, the little fat kid, thought about it and shouted, “Isn’t Sasha the rider who knocked into Roy?”

The mention of the accident made Jack give up dwelling on his loss. “Forget it. If it weren’t for me chasing after her, she wouldn’t have panicked and crashed into Roy. I’ll let this matter slide today.”

Roy connected the dots and realized why Jack said he owed him, and why he was willing to lend a Gwent deck. So it’s because he has a rare card, and a thief came to steal it. That’s why Roy got knocked out and merged with me.

“Come here at the same time tomorrow night, Roy. We’ll have a few matches. You won’t be lucky forever. I’ll find out how you cheat one way or another.”

Roy took the offer without hesitation. He made five crowns in half an hour, so there was no reason not to let his greatest source of income go. Captain Jack’s as addicted to Gwent as those dwarves who got bankrupt because of it.

Brandon, wanting to have a piece of the show, tugged on Roy’s sleeve. “Roy, Roy, teach me that magic trick!” He whipped out a handful of aromatic, sweet, yellowish snacks from his pocket and popped them into Roy’s mouth.

“Those are cracklings. They’re delicious, aren’t they? Fletcher cooks up cracklings every time he slaughters a pig. You teach me some tricks, and I’ll bring you snacks every day.”

Roy looked at the naive, childish, chubby boy, and smiled. He flattened out a single strand of hair that poked out from Brandon’s head. “Let’s make it quick. We’ll have to go to bed soon.”

Chapter 6: New Skill and Level Up

Tranquil days passed by quietly like a flowing river. Before he knew it, Roy had been working as an apprentice for nearly a month, and he spent many nights getting into Gwent matches in the inn. Slowly but surely, Roy started to blend into the familiar yet alien Kaer.

Over the month of working and playing Gwent, Roy managed to save up sixty crowns, most of which came from Jack and Seeger. The money was enough to sustain a trip to Vengerberg or any big city. Roy wanted to win more crowns, but Seeger and Jack started bringing their guards up when around him. They stopped playing Gwent with him, and Roy lost his greatest source of income.

Ever since he got to know Seeger, Roy kept asking him about his hometown, the Skellige Isles. He was trying to forge a bond with Seeger. He spent fifty crowns purchasing a dagger and a small crossbow from Seeger.

“Gotta protect myself, you see?”

The crossbow was called Gabriel, named after the Forger of Verden. It was grey in color, and Roy could hold it with one hand. Seeger also gave him twenty wooden crossbow bolts as a gift.

Any other Aedirn blacksmith wouldn’t have sold Gabriel to a scrawny boy like Roy, but Seeger was different. He came from the Skellige Isles, and he was an honest man. Seeger believed that a man should always possess a weapon from a young age in order to stay safe amidst the chaos. Children as young as ten would have started swinging weapons around on Skellige Isles, so he didn’t mind selling Gabriel, especially when he had taken a liking to Roy.

***

Compared to the crossbows that could’ve been easily found in the game, the crossbow Seeger gave him was powerful. It might’ve had an outdated structure, short range, and slow reload, but at least crossbows didn’t demand any skill. Even weak children and the elderly could use it. As long as they held it steady and shot straight, even elite soldiers could be hurt.

The crossbow was the perfect choice for Roy, who had no combat experience, and had a lower Constitution than the average adult. At least it was better than a melee weapon. His perception rivaled an adult’s and he had a broad range of sight, making him an efficient ranged fighter.

Roy kept his dagger and crossbow in his inventory space. It was a convenient thing for Roy. Aside from being unable to keep living beings, the only restriction was size. He could keep anything as long as it didn’t exceed the maximum space. All he had to do was think about the item, and it would show up in his hands.

***

As dawn broke through the horizon, the dewdrops on the weeds flanking the streets started to glisten under the sunlight. Roy, as usual, was going to the butcher’s place. He would wave at the villagers on the way there, but most of them ignored him.

Kaer was a traditional place. The villagers held the belief that children should inherit their parents’ business. They thought Roy should just toil the fields, but instead, he went to learn the skills of a butcher, spent his nights in the inn, and even made a friend out of the outsider from the Skellige Isles.

His aberrant behavior garnered him nothing but the villagers’ jealousy and nasty whispers. If he was the original Roy, he would have locked himself up where the sun didn’t shine after hearing the rumors, but the current Roy didn’t care about them.

If his plan went well, he’d level up first before going out into the wild and hunting with his new weapons. He could just get some kills and sell the animal skins for some crowns. Of course, he’d keep on learning the trade of the butcher.

Something like a hunting license might’ve existed in big cities, but a small, remote village like Kaer wasn’t bound under that regulation. Roy could hunt all he wanted.

Once he leveled up a few more times, Roy thought he would be able to defend himself well enough. After he made some money, he’d try to bring Moore and Susie to Novigrad and settle there. He’d have to make sure his parents were safe before he could go off in his pursuit of strength and explore the wonderful world he was in.

Messages started flooding his mind. Aretuza, the academy for young ladies, was located in the Thanedd Isles, Gors Velen, while Ban Ard Academy for young men was located in Kaedwen. The stronghold of the Wolf School, Kaer Morhen, was located in the Blue Mountains, which was east of Kaedwin. It was there that Vesemir lived.

All the places the messages told him about were in his exploration plan, and Roy intended to check off everything on his bucket list. However, for the time being, he’d take the first step to his momentous journey — killing more livestock. Then he’d level up.

After a month of continuous scolding and teachings from the butcher, as well as the sweat and blood Roy sacrificed for his work, his stats changed ever so slightly.

‘Roy

Age: Thirteen years and eight months old

Status: Civilian

HP: 41

Strength: 4→4.2

Dexterity: 5→5.1

Constitution: 4→4.1

Perception: 5

Will: 4→4.5

Charisma: 5

Spirit: 6

You unlocked a new Skill.

Unnamed (Passive): Level 1

(You have killed and dismembered more than four types of animals. Your total kill and dismemberment has exceeded fifteen. You now have a bloody aura around you. The aura cannot be dispelled. You have a one percent chance to Fear any enemies within a one foot range. If the enemy has a lower Will than you, you have a one percent chance to cause it to lose control over its body. You have an understanding of the anatomy of mammals (pigs, cows, goats, dogs etc.). You know how to control your strength and weapon to bypass their skin, muscle, and bones to attack their weakness. Your damage against creatures with a similar anatomy is permanently increased by one percent. Tip: This skill will level up according to the number and types of creatures you kill.)

PR/N: One foot is around 0.3 meters.

Inventory space: 1 cubic meter

Other: Unknown

EXP: 98/100’

***

After a month of intense training and enough food to eat, Roy’s strength, constitution, and dexterity saw a slight increase. His face was no longer a stark contrast to his jet black hair, but instead had a pink glow of health to it. Roy was obviously sturdier than he was a month ago. He was still scrawny, but at least he had shed that feeling of extreme weakness.

Will was the attribute that saw the biggest increase, but Roy thought it was natural. Anyone would have an iron will after having puked for a month and kept on working in a bloody, squalid, and rancid environment.

Roy could feel something evil coming from his new passive skill. The odds of it activating and the damage increase it provided were only one percent, because it was only a level 1 skill after all. The damage increase would help in at least some situations. Besides, the skill could level up through skill point distribution and the moment Roy made enough kills.

Hm, since I got this skill through the butcher’s teaching, and it levels up through killing, why don’t I call it… Roy gave it a name, and the unnamed skill was called Massacre.

***

On the way back to his house, Roy bumped into Brandon, who tried to ram into him.

Brandon had a special affinity with magic. He only spent a month mastering the little tricks Roy taught him, such as the prophecy, the magical hay, and the phantom fork, and he was already performing them perfectly.

Roy wasn’t sure if Brandon could be a bard, but he knew Brandon could be a magician if he wanted to. After being harassed by Brandon for a month, Roy had already held up his end of the bargain, and he had no desire to play along with Brandon anymore.

“How many times have I told you? I taught you everything I know, so let me go, you snotty brat!”

Brandon’s eyes were filled with the desire for knowledge. “It’s fine. You can get a gander of this trick I improvised on. Man, if I perform this when I become a bard, the whole Kaer’s going to be surprised. No, the whole Lower Posada!”

“Not interested. I have a job to do.”

“I can give you some cracklings. Fletcher made it yesterday.” Brandon gave him a sycophantic smile. That was the first time the little guy had to beg for a favor. Usually it was the other way around, but after finding out about magic and falling in love with it, Brandon showed an unprecedented passion for it.

Roy stood his ground. “Then show it to your dad. Or your lackeys. Brady and the gang would love to praise you for your show.”

“My dad? He’s going to kick my ass.” Brandon held Roy’s hand and insisted, “And I can’t show those guys. They’re just kids. They can’t give me any ideas to improve. You’re the only one around who can.”

Roy stared into his eyes and cruelly replied, “Stop coming to me. I have a job, and I need to settle something important. Never talk to me about magic tricks ever again. If you don’t have anyone to show off to, why don’t you show it to your mother?”

Brandon froze, and he looked down in silence.

***

After Roy shook Brandon off, he went to Fletcher’s house and noticed a couple of people struggling against a big white pig. Fletcher was clamping down on its head, while a villager tried to pull on its tail, but the pig dragged them around and oinked loudly. Roy hastened and pinned the pig down, then Fletcher fed it the anesthetic, and it finally stopped squirming.

Fletcher plopped down onto the pig’s dirty back, but didn’t complain. The flaps on his face trembled as he moved, and he asked, sounding nonchalant, “You saw that brat, didn’t you, Roy?”

“Yeah. He went to show off his magic tricks to some kids.”

“Call him back for me once we butcher this pig. That brat stood the chief off again.” Fletcher rubbed his nose and whispered, “I did yell at him a bit too harshly though, so help me out. I don’t want him to run around in a fit of anger.”

He just doesn’t know how to show that he cares, doesn’t he? Roy thought, and he agreed to help out.

With Fletcher’s help, Roy killed the fat pig in one strike. Once the blood had finished flowing out, his EXP bar filled, and Roy felt a weak quake from his character sheet. He then excused himself and sat down somewhere quiet.

When he looked at his character sheet, there was a plus sign after the EXP bar.

After concentrating his mind on the plus sign, a new message showed up on the sheet. “Level 1 (3/500).”

At the same time, a surge of warmth flowed through his body. It felt like inner energy, Qi, or as they called it, chaos energy. At the same time, a plus sign showed up after every stat and his skill, Massacre.

He gained one attribute point and one skill point from the level up.

Roy was overjoyed, but he held his excitement back and observed his stats closely.

His Strength was 4.2, Constitution 4.1, and Will 4.5. Those stats were weaker than an average adult. Even if he added one point to any one of them, it wouldn’t provide him with any edge in combat. He could just keep working as an apprentice to the butcher, and his body would eventually grow into the stats of an adult. There was no point in wasting a hard-earned point on that.

He had no desire to become someone who relied on their looks for a living, so Charisma wasn’t in his list of considerations.

That left Spirit, Perception, and Dexterity for him, and it was those stats that Roy was paying attention to.

He was on par with an average adult in those stats, and his Spirit was one point higher than a normal adult’s. In his case where he had little attribute points, Roy would prefer to increase his advantage rather than to be a master of all trades.

However, Roy hadn’t mastered any spell, nor had he come into contact with pseudo spells like the witchers’ signs. Since Spirit would only increase the strength of spells, Roy wouldn’t add a point to Spirit.

So only Perception and Dexterity are left.

Adding a point to Dexterity would increase his reaction speed and sight when he was moving. It would increase his efficiency in utilizing Gabriel, which would help in his plan.

Adding one point in Perception would grant him a clearer view of his surroundings. It could be used in defense and premonition. A higher Perception would also help with his observation skills and sight, which could increase his efficiency with Gabriel.

After pondering upon the matter long and hard, Roy came to a decision.

“I’ll go with Perception then.”

The moment he thought of adding that point into Perception, Perception had its point increased by one, making it a total of six. At the same time, a stronger surge of warmth flowed through his whole body.

Roy fell into a state of transcendence after he heightened his perception. The world itself became livelier in his eyes. Roy could faintly smell the stench of blood coming from the butcher’s house, and when he looked into the growths of grass, Roy could see the dewdrops on the tips of their blades, and the ladybug that sparkled bright red as it crossed the leaves. He could feel the flow of the air as it brushed against his fingertips before dancing away into the space ahead. The air itself felt warm to the touch, and it enveloped him in a gentle manner.

Everything around him became livelier and more magical than Roy had ever imagined.

He stayed in that trance for the longest time before slowly snapping out of it. And then he added his skill point into Massacre, leveling it up by one level. Massacre was currently level 2.

It was only a one level increase, but the damage increase and activation chance spiked. They were only one percent at level 1, but they were both five percent at level 2. The addition to Perception didn’t change Roy’s physique though.

Roy was delighted by the improvements he made, and he was confident that his following plan would work out. The euphoria from leveling up swept everything away from his mind, and he had forgotten the request Fletcher asked of him.

Chapter 7: Missing

Late at night, Roy was sound asleep, and he had a dream about his meeting with the hook-nosed, bald man who called himself Master Mirror. This happened after he’d defeated the griffin, higher vampire, and the Unseen Elder. Then his dream was broken by a panicked knock on the door.

“Moore, Susie! This is urgent! I need you to open the door right now!” someone called out to the couple outside. Roy struggled to get up, cold sweat drenching his back. He saw his parents standing at the door with a candle holder in hand. Before them stood the muscular butcher, but he looked terrified, and his voice was quavering.

When a gust of the night’s breeze brushed across Roy’s face, he finally shook the sleepiness away.

What happened? Why does the butcher who cusses all day look so terrified? Roy had the answer before long.

“Did something happen to Brandon, Uncle Fletcher?”

Roy wore his thin hemp pajamas and went up to his parents. The cold candle light shone on Fletcher’s face. His eyes were bloodshot, his lips dry. There was worry in his eyes, and he looked haggard, like a cat on hot bricks.

“That damn brat…” Fletcher’s head hung low, the torch he held trembling as his hand and beard shivered. “He’s missing. Brandon didn’t come home tonight.”

“Did you search for him in Brady’s house? Could he be having a sleepover at his friend’s place?”

Roy took a deep breath and calmed himself down. “And Ol’ Captain’s Inn too. He’d go there once in a while.”

“No.” Fletcher shook his head. “I searched everywhere. Asked everyone, but nobody saw him since the afternoon. The brat’s cheeky, but he’s never stayed out this late into the night.”

“Calm down, Uncle Fletcher. Think closely. He might have gone somewhere else. We’ll help you find him.”

“No, you stay here and sleep.” Moore clasped his shoulder. “Susie and I will help.”

“Dad, did you forget what I’ve been doing for the past four weeks? I’ve seen more blood in a month than most people have seen their whole lives. I’m not scared.” Roy gave his parents a calm and reassuring look. “I won’t get into trouble. Trust me.” He held their hands.

Moore and Susie looked at each other and sighed, then they nodded.

They could see their son’s change over the month. It became more and more pronounced with each passing day. He was no longer his old, weak, timid self. Roy was an opinionated boy, and once he had decided something, they wouldn’t be able to stop him. They weren’t strict parents. After Roy had convinced them to let him join, they exited the yard.

Fletcher held his hand. “Thank you, child.”

Roy felt his grip and nodded. Fletcher had been taking good care of him over the month, so he wouldn’t sit out when Brandon was missing.

That snotty brat’s everything to Fletcher. He’d be devastated if he lost him. Roy knew the pain of bereavement, and he wouldn’t wish it on Fletcher.

***

Every villager lit up their house after hearing about Brandon’s disappearance. Fletcher was still on the search, followed by One-Eyed Jack, Seeger, Thompson, and three other male villagers. They were all holding torches, and some of them had a sword hanging from their waist, while the others were holding hoes and pitchforks, ready for the search.

“Is this all? So the chief isn’t getting everyone into this?” Roy was slightly disappointed.

One-Eyed Jack touched his beard and sighed. “The older they get, the more death scares them. The chief said it’s dangerous in the wild at night, and he’d only send a search party in the morning. Ain’t easy getting these folks to join the search. We’d best hurry up, or Brandon would probably stink as much as Skellige’s dead fish if we tarry until dawn.”

“Can you be quiet, boss?” Seeger then looked at Fletcher calmly and tried to console him. “Brandon’s probably lost outside. He’s a smart child. Melitele will protect him.”

Everyone knew what a kid in a remote village surrounded by the wilds would become if they went missing. Dead. But nobody would mention it.

An eerie chill crept up on Roy, and he recalled how harsh he was toward Brandon that morning. Fletcher even asked him to take care of the child, but he forgot about it after leveling up. If something happens to Brandon, part of the responsibility lies with me.

“Dammit. I have to find him.”

“Right. We’ll split into two teams to cover more ground. Let’s go in different directions, but don’t go too far. Come back as soon as possible if you fail to find him,” Thompson said. He then took Roy, Seeger, One-Eyed Jack, and Fletcher into his team, while Susie, Moore, and the other villagers were in the other team.

“Don’t worry about me, Dad, Susie. Mr. Seeger’s here, so I’m perfectly safe. You guys, be careful.”

The couple nodded. They could see their son was in a team that was better equipped.

The team walked in a straight line into the darkness with nothing but torches to light their surroundings. Seeger led the group, while Fletcher followed him. Roy trailed behind the butcher, and Jack stood behind Roy. Thompson took the rear.

Untold dangers lurked in the night. The wilds in Lower Posada were infested with rabid dogs, wolf packs, and gruesome creatures who would kill them if given half the chance.

***

Aedirn’s autumn night had always been chilly. The temperature was nearly zero degree Celsius, and Roy was shivering in the cold, his breath turning into mist.

The moon was full that night, its silvery light bathing the wilds, but it provided no security. Strange sounds crept out from the depths of the wilds. They sounded like bugs, but also something else. Something horrifying.

The golden ear of the wheat swayed along as the night breeze whispered its secrets among them, and they danced under the moonlight. The flowers of common hops filled the air with a faint bitter scent, but none came to taste it.

The party started their search in the fields around Kaer, and they kept calling out for Brandon. Even with the help of torches and the moonlight, their vision was severely restricted. Most of them could only see ten feet away.

Roy wasn’t most people. Much to his surprise, he realized that his vision wasn’t restricted at all. He could see things clearly even if they were thirty feet away, just like how he would in daytime.

He knew he could do this because of the sight improvement from his Perception. Yep. I made the right investment.

After one hour into the search, Brandon was still nowhere to be seen. Roy’s search party had searched through every field in Kaer, to no avail. Worry and tension started to brew among them. They knew the chances of Brandon’s survival would get slimmer the longer they tarried.

Jack was observing his members along the way, and then he suddenly stopped. “We can’t find him like this. Fletcher, think carefully. Where else could that kid go?”

Fletcher hunkered down and held his head in agony. “The damn brat keeps saying he wants to go to a big city and be a bard, but he never even left Kaer a day in his life. The most he did was fish in the river near the village, but he never went farther than that. I haven’t fulfilled my promise to him and my wife. I have to send him to Vengerberg and Oxenfurt.”

Roy sighed silently after hearing that. A short while later, something struck him. Roy recalled he said something he shouldn’t to Brandon. Show it to your mother… “Uncle Fletcher, I’ve never heard anything about Brandon’s late mother.”

Fletcher still looked despondent. “Anna’s been dead for three years because of her whooping cough. She’s buried in…” Fletcher paused. “The cemetery!” He shot up, looking galvanized. “Anna’s buried in the cemetery! It’s in the east of the village. Could the brat be there? It’s possible!”

“What are we waiting for then? To the cemetery!”

The cemetery where the dead villagers rested was about three miles east of the village. There was a dirt path covered by sticks and grass between the village and the cemetery. It was the dead of night, but the search party dashed across the path, torches held up high above their heads.

Roy was trailing behind the men, huffing and puffing. Sweat started glistening on his forehead not long after. He was slightly weaker than an average adult, but he couldn’t ask a father who was worried about his son to slow down. All he could do was grit his teeth and follow the team.

Jack was equally out of breath. He was getting on in age, and he had copious amounts of alcohol every day. Because of that, he was physically weaker than most people.

After running a mile, Roy sensed something coming their way, and alarm bells rang in his head inexplicably. “Everybody look out!” he roared.

The moment he said that, everyone noticed dots of eerie green light flashing in the darkness in the overgrown shrubs around them, moving quickly as they did so. They looked like eyes, but they gleamed differently. To be more exact, they crackled like pairs of ghost fire that threatened to burn them whole. Something shuffled within the bushes, and a deep growl followed shortly, revealing a menacing wolf pack before them. It was blocking their way to the cemetery.

Chapter 8: A Bolt in the Dark

As the wolf pack started to surround them, Roy and his team noticed more pairs of eyes staring at them. They gleamed a menacing green, and when the beasts revealed themselves under the moonlight, they saw they were surrounded by a pack of lean wolves that had different colors of fur.

They surrounded the search party, but because of the light from the torches, stayed some distance away, though they still bared their fangs and snarled. Roy and the others could see that the wolves were ready to strike at any time. There were twenty around them at a glance, and they were all as big as calves. Their size alone was terrifying enough.

Everyone formed a circle by reflex, and they unsheathed their steel swords.

Roy was kept in the center by the men, and all he could see beyond was the wolf pack. The men might’ve been unable to smell the stench from the wolves, but Roy could. They emanated the rotten odor of blood and meat, making Roy gag.

When he looked closer, he could see the mindless cruelty and desire for fresh meat welling up in the eyes of the beasts. He’d seen videos about wolves in his past life, and he even played games that had them in it, but nothing prepared him for the shock he felt when he saw them in real life.

An uncontrollable shiver crept up on him. Those wolves weren’t livestock that were tied up and had anesthetic fed to them. Those wolves were feral hunters, capable of tearing human flesh easily with their sharp fangs.

One-Eyed Jack swung his torch slowly, keeping the wolves at bay with the burning flames. “Look out, everyone. These beasts are known for their cunningness.” The old sailor obviously had his fair share of battles in his younger days. He was calm, and there wasn’t a hint of fear on his face.

Fletcher and Thompson had seen more than enough gore in their lives. The pack didn’t scare them, and they held their sword steady as they faced the wolves.

Seeger gave the animals a threatening glare. He held his steel sword with both hands, positioning it at his right, the weapon’s blade facing forty-five degrees upward. His back was taut, his muscles relaxed. Seeger bent down slightly, his left leg pointing at the wolf pack. His right was behind the left, pointing forty degrees outward. Obviously, the blacksmith from Skellige was trained in swordsmanship. His sword handling was fluid and professional.

Roy was the weak link of the team. He was pale and drenched in cold sweat.

“Stay close, men, and move slowly. Don’t panic, and no sudden movements,” Jack said calmly. The team slowly moved toward the cemetery like an impenetrable fortress.

The moment they took a step, the wolf pack became agitated, and they howled into the night, piercing the silence. The wolves facing them pounced, determined to claw through their prey.

“Away, you beast!” Jack roared, and he slammed his leg into a wolf’s head, sending it flying through the air. At the same time, he slashed at the beast, drawing a silvery arc through the air, and it cut through the wolf’s thigh.

It whimpered in pain and shuffled backward.

“I might be old, but that ain’t mean I can’t fight, ye bastard.”

One-Eyed Jack wanted to go for the kill, but the other wolves stepped in and blocked the blade from their injured comrade. A pair of wolves snarled at Jack, intending to tear him apart, but they knew a frontal assault was risky. Instead, the wolves decided to kite Jack, searching for his weakness.

Jack swung his sword and torch vigorously, trying to keep the wolves at bay, but his age showed in battle. He wouldn’t hold on for much longer. He started sweating, and his movements were getting slower, clumsier.

At the same time, Fletcher, Seeger, and Thompson were fighting the wolves one to two. Their situation was equally as precarious, and they couldn’t come to support Jack.

Beyond the battle area, a few more wolves hid in the dark, sharpening their claws as they observed the fight. Once someone would show an opening, they would jump into the fray without hesitation. The team would lose the battle of attrition eventually, thought the wolves.

After a mere five minutes, Jack, the oldest member of the party, was slashed by a wolf’s claws, and a bloody gash formed around his waist. He made a counter attack despite the pain, but that was his last one. When another wolf came for him, he couldn’t defend himself, and he fell down. The wolf moved onto him like a phantom and opened its maw, intending to feast.

“Didn’t expect a beast to get the better of little ol’ me,” Jack mumbled. When he thought he was going to die, he heard something pierce through the air, and something fell with a dull thud.

Jack struggled to get up, and he looked around, only to see a bolt embedding itself into the wolf that was going to eat him earlier. It fought for life, but eventually, death came for it, and it couldn’t outrun its fate.

“Out of the way, Jack.” Roy was kneeling down, holding Gabriel in his hands. He’d just pulled the trigger, sending a bolt the wolf’s way. Roy’s nerves and fear drenched him in sweat, and even his lips trembled. The moment the battle went underway, Roy had taken out his crossbow from his inventory space. He wanted to shoot the beasts, but they moved too swiftly for him to do so. The cover of night didn’t help with his aim, and he only managed to get a chance when the wolf let its guard down as it went for the kill.

Fortunately, his bolt met its mark, saving Jack from a terrible fate. The moment it hit the wolf, Roy saw a purple light flash from the weapon.

“Is that… Massacre?”

Roy could see that the purple light was the added damage from his skill, and he knew that the wolf had just come into Massacre’s range.

The fact he knew his skill was able to take effect gave Roy some confidence in battle. He stopped trembling, and pulled the string back before shooting at the remaining wolf that was battling Jack.

Another bolt flew through the air in pursuit of its prey, not unlike the scythe of the Grim Reaper. It lodged itself deep into the wolf, and the animal let out a howl of anguish before departing the earth, falling with a thud.

Roy tuned his Perception, trying to find a way out of the battle. He could feel his heart’s fierce pumping as it threatened to burst from his chest. His right hand was getting sore from reloading his crossbow, but he noticed a twenty point increase in his experience. His EXP bar was currently 23/500. Apparently, one wolf provided ten EXP.

The double kill raised the morale of Roy’s team, while the wolves slowed their attacks, scared because of their comrades’ death.

They faltered for only a split second, but it was enough for Roy to make another shot. The bolt buried itself in the leg of the wolf that was battling Seeger. It whimpered in pain, but Seeger didn’t stop attacking. He raised his steel sword over his head, tensing his muscles before bringing his sword down, slicing the wolf in half. As he kicked the bloody, mangled carcass away, Seeger thumped his chest and roared in triumph.

At that point, the team had managed to break through the wolves’ encirclement. Seeger stood in the vanguard, his sword raised above his head. Everyone else shifted into a defensive stance and kept the pouncing wolves at bay. Roy stood in the middle, and being the only one who was still attacking, released shot after deadly shot at the wolves. When he had used up all twenty bolts, five more wolves lay dead. As the bodies piled up, the wolf pack finally realized that Roy and his team wouldn’t go down easily. They gave up on their hunt and went back into the dark with their tails between their legs.

The moment the wolves ran away, Roy and the others heaved a sigh of relief, and they plopped down onto a patch of grass. The battle only took ten minutes, but it drained everything from them. Everyone except Roy was injured, but everything was minor. Once they went back into the village, got it bandaged, and rested up for a while, they’d be good as new.

Roy took a breather and calmed down. As he looked at his bloodied, haggard comrades, a sense of pride welled up within him. “We survived.”

Jack let out a hearty laugh. “Looks like little ol’ me has another story to brag about now.” Jack grinned in pain and smacked Roy’s shoulder. “Not bad, kid. I thought you’d be scared shitless and drag us down. Didn’t expect you to be the reason we’d live. I’ll let your cheating in Gwent slide.”

Everyone else shared the same sentiment, but at the same time, they were incredulous. Fifteen wolves had been killed that night, and almost half of them were either taken out by Roy, or had the final hit dealt by him. When they were his age, most of them were still brats. Even Seeger from Skellige hadn’t made as many kills as Roy did in one night.

Seeger commented, “It’s fortunate that I sold the crossbow to you, or none of us would have survived the night. Tell me the truth, Roy. Moore and Susie adopted you, didn’t they? You’re the descendant of an elf or a dwarf, aren’t you? Humans don’t have that kind of accuracy.

Roy smiled at him, then he went to retrieve his bolts from the dead wolves. He couldn’t tell them his secret, and had to say that he only made those kills by mostly luck. It was his first time using a crossbow in battle, and the wolves were too swift to follow. Even with his Perception, it was difficult to keep up with the beasts.

He’d be lucky to even make five kills during his next hunt.

Roy joked, “I did say Melitele blessed me. Even if I didn’t aim, the wolves still would’ve gotten shot.” Then he looked at his EXP bar. It was standing at 73/500. Yep. The wilds are the best place to gain EXP. But I don’t think another chance to get free kills will come by easily with these guys keeping me safe .

Thompson glanced at the mini crossbow Roy held. “That’s Gabriel, isn’t it? It’s an automatic crossbow that can be handled with one hand. It’s a fitting weapon for you, so keep it close, and don’t lose it. Don’t show it off to the soldiers either,” he reminded Roy.

Roy nodded.

“Guys, how’s it going?” Fletcher interjected. His left forearm was injured, and the worry on his face intensified. “Can we still go on? Brandon might be in danger.”

“Of course we’re going on.” Seeger wiped the blood from his sword with his sleeve before sheathing it. “Victory is just ahead, men. Melitele will punish us if we give up on the child.”

Everyone stood up and continued moving toward the cemetery. The remaining journey was peaceful, and the team didn’t encounter any further danger.

“Come out, Brandon! I’m here!” Fletcher shouted toward the cemetery when they were still a distance away.

Everyone started getting worried. They prayed to the gods that Brandon would reply.

“Something’s wrong,” Roy blurted out when they’d gotten past the stony cemetery walls. Something told him they’d come across a crisis the same level as the wolf pack encounter.

His Perception proved to be a great help after he’d surpassed the limits of the average human.

The cemetery was quiet. Too quiet. Beyond the rusted fence was the cemetery grounds where hundreds of villagers lay to rest. Ivory tombstones filled the land, and they gleamed coldly under the icy moonlight. An eerie atmosphere crept up on the team, making them shiver. A small cabin stood in the center of the cemetery. It was the abode of the gravekeeper, Granbell.

PR/N: Excuse me, but is a cemetery supposed to be anything but quiet?

“Something’s off. Quiet, Fletcher!”

Thompson raised his hand, signaling everyone to stop, and they lowered their voices to a whisper.

“Even if Brandon’s not in there, Granbell should have heard your shout. So why’d he keep quiet?”

“No. Brandon must be in that cabin. Granbell must have taken him in, a-and they’re just asleep. Yes, that’s right. I need to go in.”

Roy gasped, gathering everyone’s attention. “Wait, what is that?”

When they looked in the direction he was pointing at, everyone saw a strange hole on the outer side of the cemetery.

“It’s a new grave. Someone was buried there last month.”

“If memory serves me right, that’s where Chris is buried.”

When they went up to the grave, they noticed the tombstone lying haphazardly on the ground, and the grave was already empty.

Where’d the corpse go? And who or what did this?

“Um…” Roy looked around and noticed that wasn’t the only empty grave. A few other holes were just nearby, and they were obviously empty.

“Which bastard did this? They desecrated the dead and stole their belongings,” Seeger mumbled, a frown creasing his forehead. “What’s the gravekeeper doing?”

Roy shook his head. The solemn, foreboding look on Jack’s face didn’t escape him, and the old captain slowly backed away. “Something tells me no human did this.” A chilling sensation enveloped Roy.