The Witcher: The Alchemist Who Walked the Witcher’s Road

In Kaer Muire, Lord Drummond's stronghold, the bonfire burned warmly, filling the room with heat. After surrendering his weapons to the guards and passing through the windbreak curtain, Victor heard the sound of someone complaining and saw the lord listening to the accusation.

Madman Lugos was bald, with deep-set features and a full snowy-white beard. He wore a thick red quilted coat and sat sprawled on his throne. He felt less like a lord than like the chief of a mountain stronghold.

With his back to Victor stood a man in a blue padded coat, his voice sharp and shrill, presumably the father of those foul-mouthed brothers, Leif, an elder of Arinbjorn.

Victor heard the elder say emotionally, "My lord... my bloodline has been passed down since the time of Ubin the Great. That filthy dog cut off my line. He has to die!"

"I'm the one who decides the judgment, Leif," the lord replied casually, his eyes fixed on the boy.

"But he's a Tordarroch, not a Drummond. He doesn't need a public trial at all. He should be run through at once, he, "

Leif's voice broke off because Victor had walked right up to Madman Lugos and placed a hand over his chest in salute.

"My greetings to you, Lord Lugos of Clan Drummond.

"I am Victor, from east of Zerrikania, Crosser of the Korath Desert, Stormborn, Chosen One, the Pure One of Melitele's Prophecy, witcher and alchemist of Bell Town, Dawnguard, Conqueror of the Path of Warriors, champion of the Fist of Fury, the Last Dragonborn, Dovahkiin, Bearbreaker, Victor Corion."

Since that time before King Bran, the boy had not recited his titles in a long while, because there had been no need. But today he read them out again because he could not be bothered tangling with Leif. He had decided to try defending Vigi in the Skelliger way.

Lugos chuckled. "Master Victor, your way of requesting an audience was certainly memorable. I didn't expect our first meeting to happen under circumstances like these."

"I think these circumstances are perfectly fine. They let me see for myself the justice of Clan Drummond. After all, the honor of Dovahkiin has been insulted, and that is equally an insult to King Bran." There was no smile on Victor's face.

The lord blew his nose and narrowed his sharp eyes. "The honor of the Dragonborn has been insulted? What are you talking about?"

Victor narrowed his own eyes. "I accuse Leif's sons, Kori and Kraki, of blocking my path in the tavern and attempting to shame my honor. Jorund, son of Sigvald, can testify that what I say is true."

Wrapped in his blue padded coat and headscarf, Leif instantly grew nervous. "W, wait, Jorund has a grudge against me. He can't serve as a witness. He can't prove anything!"

This elder's appearance perfectly combined the features of his two sons, fat head and big ears together with triangular eyes and a hooked nose, offensively unforgettable at a glance...

Ignoring Leif, Victor continued, "So Vigi killed them in order to defend my honor, the honor of Dovahkiin!"

"There's no, no evidence. His words are meaningless without evidence. No one supports him," Leif stammered.

"So you're questioning my honesty?" Victor rolled his shoulders. "My lord, I demand a duel with him, to defend my dignity."

At that, Madman Lugos slapped his thigh and burst out laughing. "Hahahaha! Leif wouldn't survive your Hundred-Burst Fist. Hell, I doubt he'd survive two punches."

The elder's voice rose sharply. "My lord, th, this isn't a joke. He's just twisting words here. No one ever heard before, "

"Enough," Lugos said, his smile vanishing. "I've made my judgment."

He rose to his feet in a sudden motion, broad and powerfully built. Up to now, Victor had yet to see an island lord who looked like he could not fight.

He swept his arm out. "I'm sorry, Dragonborn. Much as I'd like to believe you, I must preserve fairness. I know about the feud between Jorund and Leif, so with no one to support your version of events, I can only judge Vigi guilty. The sentence is death by suffocation."

Hearing the judgment, Leif's face lit with satisfaction. He cast Victor a sidelong glance, filled with the pleasure of vengeance.

Madman Lugos studied Dovahkiin. His expression was still calm and steady. Satisfied, the lord continued, "But you may pay his blood price and redeem him, so long as you pay silver equal to the combined weight of Kori and Kraki."

Victor smiled faintly. "I don't have that much money on me."

The lord nodded. "I know you don't. So I'll pay the blood debt for you."

Seeing that, Leif protested, "Wait... my lord, that can't be lawful."

Madman Lugos shot him a contemptuous look. "I am the law.

"Now get out, Leif. Keep annoying me and I'll tie the silver around your neck and sink you in the sea."

Taking two steps backward, Leif, elder of Arinbjorn, lowered his head and trudged out of the room in defeat.

The bonfire cracked and popped as the lord and the boy faced each other in silence.

Victor broke it by rubbing his nose. "What can I do for you? Honestly, even without paying that much, I'd still have been willing to help."

Lugos waved a hand slightly. "What I need isn't willingness. I need full support. Since I had the chance to sell you a favor, it cost me nothing to use it."

"You're saying that straight out? I thought you'd at least try to dress it up a little."

Lugos's eyes were bright. Even without staring on purpose, they were intimidating. "No need. Once you used your Dragon Shout to ask for an audience, I knew you were clever. What I still wasn't sure of was whether you were a man of honor. Are you?"

"Of course. Dovahkiin always repays his debts. Within the limits of my ability, my lord, I'm ready to serve you."

Madman Lugos nodded in satisfaction. Then he tilted his head to one side, as though the matter was oddly hard for him to say aloud, and brooded for a long while.

"My son, Blueboy Lugos, is a fool. I can practically imagine the future title of Clan Drummond's next leader already, Idiot Lugos. Damn it.

"He's in his rebellious years and wants to go out adventuring to find himself, that part's normal enough. But instead of raiding the Black Ones or sacking a monastery, he's suddenly decided he wants to head south and undergo the druid trial in the Cave of Dreams.

"The problem is, most people who go there never come back."

Victor blinked.

Every family had its own troubles. A madman would definitely prefer his son to go pick a fight with the Black Ones, the Nilfgaardians, even if it ended in a bloodbath, rather than try one of those mysterious druid trials.

The lord planted his left hand on his hip and pointed at Victor with his right. "You're not just clever, you're strong. Your name is known across the isles. Even that old bastard Bran acknowledged you as Dragonborn, so you must be a man with brains and steel both. That's why I want you to go with Blueboy, and come back with Blueboy.

"No matter how stupid he is, I still need him to inherit my place.

"Do this, and we'll be even, unless you'd rather see your honor dragged through the mud."

Victor searched his memory as hard as he could...

The name Cave of Dreams sounded vaguely familiar, but it stirred no memory from his previous life at all. Forgotten that thoroughly, it was probably not a terribly difficult job.

"If I ask to go with him, won't he just think it's another arrangement by his father and resent it?"

"He won't be able to refuse Dovahkiin. Your name carries weight among the young. Who could refuse to undergo a trial beside a legendary hero? Blueboy certainly can't."

Victor nodded. "Have a ship prepared for me at Holmstein's Port. Actually, no, not a good ship, an ordinary ship will do. Let Vigi handle the sailing preparations. Once Blueboy and I both return safely, I'll continue my journey."

Madman Lugos swept out a hand. "Then it's settled."

...

The gathering place of the druids was called the Druid Circle. Around it grew Trees of Life, and within it was a sanctuary for wild animals.

All kinds of wild creatures, sheep, wolves, venomous snakes, even pterodactyls, could live in peace inside the Druid Circle without harming one another. Hunting by humans was forbidden there as well.

And south of Kaer Muire there was just such a tranquil and harmonious Druid Circle, the place where the Dream Druids practiced, the Cave of Dreams.

After two days of coastal sailing from Holmstein's Port, Victor and Blueboy Lugos's party now stood outside the cave waiting while the druids prepared the trial.

The boy stood by the sea watching the tide, its ebb and flow like life itself, low tides and high ones alike.

This time he was traveling alone. The other members of the troupe each had their own tasks. Vigi stayed behind at Holmstein's Port to handle the new ship, the Thousand Sunny, as well as the hiring of sailors.

And unlike before, when she always insisted on following him, this time Angoulême had proactively asked to stay at the harbor and gather information, learn how to swim, and study ship management.

Victor felt quite gratified by the girl's determined effort to improve herself. Sure enough, one hard lesson really did make a person wiser. After nearly drowning in the ocean, she had learned young how important a second skill could be. The road ahead would be steadier for her because of it.

A voice came from the distance.

"Vic, the druids say they're ready. They told those of us taking the trial to go in."

The speaker was Blueboy Lugos. Years of life at sea had given him, though he was only in his twenties, the face of a man in his early thirties.

To Blueboy's enemies, like the coastal provinces of Nilfgaard, he was a cold, broad-shouldered demon with brown hair and brown eyes. But when he was facing Victor, he was just an enthusiastic, straightforward young man.

He was especially fond of The Return of the Dragonborn and all the chronicles of Dovahkiin's martial exploits. Also worth mentioning, he had a fine thick head of hair, combed neatly back.

Victor walked side by side with Blueboy to the mouth of the cave, where two men were already waiting.

Lugos began the introductions. "Vic, this is the finest soldier under my command. He'll be going with us. Let me introduce Jorulf, known as the Wolverine."

He was a standard Skellige white-bearded brute. Both his name and nickname were only one letter away from somebody else's.

Jorulf nodded. "Greetings, Dovahkiin."

"And this one is Uve Jabberjaw," Blueboy added.

Uve said nothing, only bowed his head in greeting.

Victor returned the nod, then looked at Blueboy in puzzlement. "Why is Uve so quiet?"

"Because he doesn't have a tongue," Blueboy said, putting on his helmet.

"What happened? Did he lick a frozen blade in winter?"

Jorulf answered from the side, "No. He spoke ill of King Bran while drunk. When he sobered up, he tore his own tongue out. He can't speak anymore, but he kept his honor."

Victor rolled his eyes discreetly. "Ah... honor. I should've guessed.

"What do you know about the trial in this cave? At the very least, tell me what kind of monsters we'll run into."

Jorulf answered boldly, "The answer to that question is something only you can discover for yourself!

"The old folk say the Cave of Dreams reflects your deepest fear and turns your worst nightmare into reality, whether it comes from the past, the future, or the present."

Blueboy grinned and added, "Come to think of it, I really do want to know what Dovahkiin is afraid of."

Then he waved a hand. "All right, enough talk. Bring your weapons, everyone. Let's go!"

...

The Cave of Dreams was dark, damp, and wet. Faintly glowing mushrooms grew along the dripping walls, their dim blue-green light casting an eerie glow.

The four of them moved quickly with torches in hand and soon reached the totem deep within the cave, where five druids stood waiting to assist with the ritual.

Without saying a word, the druids used gestures to direct them into their seats before the totem. Then they set down in front of them a handful of sickly green herbs and a bowl of steaming milky broth.

Then, among the five druids, the eldest and most venerable-looking one, the elder whose head was covered in fresh green branches, stepped before them.

"Warriors, feel honored. Simply taking part in the trial of the Cave of Dreams is itself proof of courage. I am Malfurion, elder of the Dream Druids..."

Victor choked a little. "Cough, cough, cough."

The druid's name was just too familiar, too unforgettable.

He quickly recovered and bowed apologetically to the interrupted elder.

Malfurion smiled and continued without being bothered in the least. "Before the trial begins, I must tell you this. In your dreams, you will face the deepest fear hidden in your heart.

"These things may be shameful. They may be private. But they are illusions, reflections of your truest inner thoughts.

"If you are strong enough, you will overcome them. If not, your mind will shatter."

After speaking, the druid swept his gaze across the four of them, making sure they had heard clearly.

"If you understand the danger and have no further questions, consume the herbs, drink the broth, and the Dream Totem will ferry you to the place where your nightmares dwell."

Victor had never seen the herb before, and the broth's ingredients were completely unknown to him. For an alchemist, the sight before him was deeply unsettling.

So he asked quietly, "I have a question. Can I know what herb this is? And what's in the broth?"

The druid elder smiled. "The herb is Radmann grass. The broth is boiled from hemlock, cherry blossom, tomato, and henbane."

Victor sucked in a sharp breath.

Damn it all, every last ingredient in there was savage stuff.

After thinking it over for a moment, he decided that since the druids had been conducting this trial for so many years, they probably would not be serving something that simply killed people outright...

He picked up the herb, stuffed it into his mouth, lifted the bowl, took a big swallow, and began to chew and swallow.

Seeing Victor start, Blueboy also grabbed a handful of herbs and shoved them into his mouth. "Come on, Uve, Jorulf, eat and drink. Don't leave any behind."

Malfurion, elder of the Dream Druids, watched them eat heartily with a smile on his face.

...

Drifting and swaying, wavering and floating, then suddenly, a violent jolt.

The four of them still seemed to be sitting in the Cave of Dreams, facing the Dream Totem, except that all the druids had suddenly vanished.

Jorulf said, "Hey, I don't feel much of anything. What about you, Uve?"

"..."

Uve tilted his head and looked at Jorulf.

"You idiot, you're asking a mute for his opinion. Looks like the broth's already gone to your head!" Blueboy laughed.

Victor carefully checked the sensations returning from his body and limbs, then quietly recited a sequence of prime numbers to confirm his thoughts were still clear. At last he could not help muttering to himself, "This is incredible. Is this some kind of virtual reality? And even a shared dream at that..."

Blueboy rose to his feet, stretched, and drew his steel sword. "Come on, everyone. Time to face our fears!"

Jorulf and Uve raised his axe and hammer respectively and followed with care.

Victor silently fell in behind the other three, walking last as he focused on his left hand. He wanted to run an experiment.

He took a deep breath. As powerful will surged through him, he clearly saw dragon scales rapidly spread over his left arm from elbow to fingertips. Then his thought shifted, and his hand returned to normal.

A fake would always be a fake in the end, but for someone with a strong enough mind, someone like Victor, in this dream he was a god.

Then Jorulf shouted from ahead, "Whoa! There's a fin whale floating in the air. It's crystal clear!"

Victor followed the direction of his finger, and sure enough, high above in the vast dream-cave, a great luminous sea creature drifted gracefully through the air, vivid and lifelike. Evidently this was some splendid fantasy from the depths of one of the four men's hearts.

"That's not a fin whale. It's too big. That's a blue whale," Blueboy Lugos corrected him, rubbing his chin.

Uve said nothing.

Jorulf muttered under his breath, "Blue whale? Since when does a blue whale have such a short mouth? I think you're the one who drank so much broth you've lost your mind."

The experiment had been an overwhelming success. With the current situation confirmed, Victor finally relaxed and quickened his pace to catch up with the three bickering men.

Even knowing full well that everything before his eyes was an illusion, the sight was still wondrous and grand, beautiful enough to be seared into memory forever.

Missing it would have been a shame.

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