Chapter 214 214: Late Spring, Early Summer of 1270
The most anticipated N8PS pack-in game of 20XX, Like a Sage, is a completely original story based on the original work Fist of the Eastern Dipper.
The bestselling manga Fist of the Eastern Dipper, original work by Mrs. Simon, manga by Old Hand, has been personally adapted by Ryu Ga Gotoku Studio, the development team behind the Like a Dragon series, making its first appearance as a proper action-adventure game.
In order to reunite with his beloved woman, Ciri, the sage who bears a dragon tattoo on his back and "five scars" on his chest stakes his life on bare-chested battle! In addition to famous characters from the original work, brand-new characters designed by Master Simon will also appear.
Fist of the Eastern Dipper × Ryu Ga Gotoku Studio jointly develop an unprecedented sage world! Full support for Ring Fit Adventure! A brand-new "legend of the end-of-century sage" is about to begin.
...
In the spacious, bright classroom, the air conditioning was set to twenty-six degrees. Beneath the podium, the young students were drowsy. On the podium, the history teacher spoke with passion and intensity.
"In the year 1270, the mass incident that occurred in Vizima, the capital of Temeria, brought a far-reaching influence to this country and even the entire Continent. It was the beginning of a series of great events!
"But at the time, no one could have foreseen any of this. Only the prophet of the Burning Omen and his followers had long since seen through everything!"
Noticing that the elementary school students were all distracted, the history teacher sighed inwardly and decided to change the upcoming content, first talking about the part they would be interested in.
"And when discussing that piece of history, there is a name that cannot be ignored. That lady was," the influence of animation and games reached far and wide. Seeing the students' eyes instantly brighten, the teacher felt somewhat emotional, "Angoulême Corion of the Phantom Troupe."
A male student with a triangular cone hairstyle immediately raised his hand first. "Teacher, teacher! Shouldn't it be Golden Eagle Angoulême?"
A girl with bangs over her forehead and two crab-claw braids also raised her hand and said, "That's right. She was a follower of the sage! She also raised a giant eagle named Catherine that people could ride!"
Beside them, a useless boy wearing glasses eagerly added, "I... I also know she had huge boobs! Like two volleyballs!"
Hearing this, everyone burst into laughter, and the classroom filled with cheerful air.
Children spoke without restraint. The history teacher said kindly, "Nobita! The character settings in video games cannot be taken seriously..."
...
In the year 1270, between late spring and early summer, on the third day after Victor Corion began the Trial of the Grasses, somewhere in the city of Vizima.
"...The above is everything. Although it is somewhat hard to believe, this is the situation I investigated in Sapopan." The reporter held his head high and chest out, his expression sincere and honest.
The superior gave a few satisfied words of encouragement, then waved for him to leave.
Not long after the reporter left, a hidden door opened, and the Professor walked into the room, bowing as he awaited orders.
The superior flipped through the written record for a moment, then stuffed the report into the mercenary's hands. "Heh, a beam of light connecting heaven and earth that lasted three days, followed by one fire that burned the manor clean to the ground?... Take this and read it carefully. Let Azar study it too. Try to capture Victor alive and see if he knows what happened!"
"Your will!" Receiving the document, the Professor respectfully withdrew.
...
On the sixth day after Victor began the Trial of the Grasses, Alzur's Tower.
In the basement, after prolonged torment, the thing on the iron bed had already become paralyzed and limp, losing the strength to struggle.
Only faint moans echoed, like the helplessness of a girl becoming a woman, yet also like the shrill agony of a woman becoming a mother. The pain contained within was enough to make even the bravest person feel their heart jump.
And at this moment, a strange mechanical voice sounded from somewhere. "Ongoing Trial of the Grasses detected. First stage complete. Potential highly stimulated, completion level unprecedented. Beginning observation of second-stage progress!"
...
On the twelfth day after the Trial of the Grasses began, outside the Merchants' Gate in Vizima's Trade Quarter.
Foltest, King of Temeria, personally left the city to welcome the arrival of King Radovid V of Redania.
Radovid V publicly declared his hope that in this meeting, the border conflicts in the North could be resolved, ending years of open and hidden struggle, and laying the foundation for peaceful progress and friendship between the two countries.
...
On the sixteenth day after the trial began, in the Temple Quarter of Vizima.
Angoulême sat fully equipped in the living room, carefully wiping her sword, Golden Eagle, with a soft cloth, only sheathing it again once it gleamed.
Coming out of the kitchen and seeing this scene, Shani found it a little funny. She reached out and ruffled Angoulême's hair. "This is kind of scary! You really don't need to accompany me to work every day. My colleagues at the hospital were already a little nervous, and seeing you wander around makes them even more nervous."
The girl shook her head in denial. "That won't do! Vic's message was very clear. This city is like it's sitting on the mouth of a volcano right now. It could erupt at any moment. Since Senior refuses to evacuate early, I can only guard you!"
The doctor smiled helplessly and tacitly accepted the girl's company.
Vizima's public order had always been fairly good in the past. She truly did not think a riot would happen. Besides, even if something did happen, no one should attack a hospital. That would violate international custom.
A few years ago, during the Battle of Brenna, even at the most tragic moment with the highest casualties and the maddest hearts, the soldiers who rushed into the field hospital had been scolded back by Dr. Milo, the embodiment of medical ethics. And now there was not even a war.
Although she had heard in the past few days that the Order and the Scoia'tael had erupted into fierce conflict outside the city, it still counted as commonplace, just like the armed clashes between Ramsmeat's gang and Salamandra, which never knew when to stop.
Putting on her coat and mask, she transformed into the plague doctor. Counting the days, sixteen days had already passed. If Victor had not deceived her, he would return tomorrow, as a witcher.
But would it really be as he said, that nothing would change?
Casting aside useless thoughts, Shani called to Angoulême, "Let's go. We're going to the hospital."
They arrived outside and walked together with hands on their swords. The girl was not as relaxed as her senior. In Eagle Vision, even along the simple road they took to and from work every day, the frequency of faint red glows appearing had increased day by day. All of it was hidden hostility.
She increasingly believed that the leader's message, "The city will erupt in a nonhuman riot!" would become true before long. And Vic's only requirement for her was to guarantee Shani's safety, by any means.
Unfortunately, Senior had her professional ethics. Otherwise, the girl was actually inclined to run. Having personally experienced the nonhuman riot in Rivia, she knew its severity. In the cruel chaos and madness, even the old man had fallen because of a moment of softness.
Watching the doctor enter St. Lebioda's Hospital, the sphere of influence of the Catriona plague, Angoulême, who had stopped outside the iron fence, scratched her hair and walked toward the Hairy Bear, planning to find Dandelion or Zoltan for a small drink.
Even if those two were not there, it did not matter. She could go across the street to drink with Carmen. For some reason, this lady had suddenly become kind and friendly to her over the past few days. The glow showed deep blue, a proper ally color.
...
In the afternoon, Triss Merigold was somewhat restless. Ever since she had brought Geralt back sixteen days ago to recuperate, she had discovered that many things had begun to spin out of control. The earliest sign had actually been Keira's disappearance, but at the time, the sorceress had not taken it seriously.
Previously, when she had run off to Kaer Morhen for love, Keira had covered for her without complaint. Now that Keira was merely briefly out of contact, she naturally had no reason to complain.
But ten days passed in a hurry, and there was still no news from her. When Triss went to her home and discovered that the megascope was still there, and that there were no signs of luggage being packed for a trip, she finally knew something was wrong.
Thinking back to Victor's parting reminder, the sorceress realized that Keira Metz might have obtained some important information, and that had become the main reason for her disappearance.
And the evil consequence of Triss having been away from Vizima for a long time was that she sensed something was wrong in some places, but did not know where the problem lay, so she had no way to begin correcting it.
Especially after Radovid came to visit, Philippa had been almost daily asking her for intelligence. Triss knew that although Philippa acted very calm, the Jewel of the Court at Tretogor had indeed been outmaneuvered by her little king this time.
Recently, Redanian nobles had been turning toward Radovid in large numbers from bottom to top, making it impossible for her to cover the sky with one hand any longer. Even this visit had not been within her plans, let alone the little king's conciliatory speech.
Triss guessed that Radovid might be planning to borrow Foltest's strength to thoroughly free himself from Philippa's control. But this matter concerned another king, so she could not give advice. Perhaps it would touch a sensitive nerve in the king.
Waving away her restlessness, she pushed the tea cart into the bedroom. The sorceress wanted to share afternoon tea with the White Wolf and temporarily forget her worries.
Looking at Geralt's peaceful sleeping face, his injuries had recovered very well, but he still could not be said to be completely healthy. Just then, a huge sound suddenly came from the distance.
Triss pushed open the window and looked far into the distance. Natalis Square was peaceful and quiet. Just as she was about to close the window, Geralt suddenly appeared and reached out to stop her.
"There are shouts of killing...!" When the witcher spoke, his face was ashen, as if something had stirred a bad memory.
...
At the same time, near the Troupe House in the Temple Quarter, Angoulême climbed straight up the watchtower. Eagle Vision fully opened, and everything within one hundred twenty yards had nowhere to hide.
After finishing her reconnaissance, she directly flipped over and performed a Leap of Faith to land. Returning inside and meeting up with Shani, she firmly bolted the door. "Senior, good thing you got off work early. We can't go out now. There are mobs full of malice in every direction. Anyway, we have plenty of food. We won't go out tonight."
Shani knew the current situation was unclear, and she was even less willing for Angoulême to go out and encounter danger again, so she immediately nodded in agreement with her decision.
The two of them were fortunate, successfully avoiding the first wave of chaos. In the Temple Quarter, many people were like the girl, locking their doors at once. But some people failed to make a decisive choice immediately, and so misfortune befell them.
No one knew how the smashing, looting, and burning began, but anyone with eyes could see it. Either they saw nonhumans armed and attacking humans, or humans armed and attacking nonhumans.
Dwarves, elves, humans. Who had started first could no longer be traced. When the chain of hatred lashed mercilessly, the snowball of malice began to roll.
Vizima caught fire.
...
Not long after the sun set, torrential rain suddenly poured down in the distant jungle, and a bolt of lightning flashed past like a strip of white silk.
Inside Alzur's Tower, the strange mechanical voice sounded again. "End of third stage detected. Trial of the Grasses concluded! Mutagens perfectly combined. Body is recovering function, and an unknown energy reaction is present. This is an unprecedented ultimate result!
"Confirmed to meet conditions. Activating response plan, the master's legacy!"
When the voice ended, in the ruined first-floor hall, repairs unexpectedly began slowly and automatically. The staircase reappeared, broken stones were cleared away, and the bookshelves that had originally been emptied were once again filled with brand-new materials and manuscripts.
At the same time, the exterior of the mage tower changed as well. The moss that had originally clung to it peeled away layer by layer, and the gaps in the white stone walls were filled, completely rejecting the rainwater that had once been a regular visitor.
The entire aboveground portion of the building was transformed!
And in the basement, the double test of body and mind, the double dose of agonizing enjoyment and extended experience time, all those sufferings had already passed.
The lump of bloodstained matter on the iron bed now had a peaceful expression, breathing long and evenly. It was precisely the time when sleep was sweetest.
Pulling the perspective a little farther away, in a corner of the floor far from the iron bed, there was actually a music box. Looking closer, one could discover that it was combined with a clock, forming an alarm clock that should not exist in the Middle Ages.
In the dark room, beneath the dim oil lamp, the hands were working hard without stopping for even a moment.
Some time later, "click!" The set time arrived.
The mechanism turned over, and suddenly, from inside the music box, a grand symphony began to perform. After a brief and rapid prelude, the climax abruptly roared!
The ear could hear the long trombone, the clear trumpet, the woodwinds giving their all, and the organic fusion of thunderous gongs and drums!
Amid this unprecedented and unbelievably wonderful music in this world, the lump of bloodstained matter lying on the iron bed trembled slightly at the eyelids, then its fingers began to twitch.
The former apprentice of the School of the Wolf, the newborn witcher, Victor Corion, had finally been woken by the alarm clock!
Letting out a long breath, he muttered to himself, "Proof of a Hero... Hunting Music Festival version. It really does sound good! I wasn't wrong to choose you as my alarm. Waking up to this puts me in a good mood!"
Then, opening his eyelids that were stuck with bloodstains, he drew in a breath and raised his voice. "Rise and tremble! Your emperor has returned!"
Amid the glorious Proof of a Hero, decisively, no one answered his summons.
The music was wonderful, his body's feedback was comfortable, and his mood was beautiful.
"Come!" Victor said faintly.
"Bag, come!" the young man's voice shattered the void.
Silently and without warning, the herbal satchel pierced through the air and appeared in his hand.
With a twist of his wrist, he slipped the cuffed portion into the bag and stored the handcuffs inside. His right hand regained freedom. Then, following the same method, he undid the handcuffs and shackles. Victor flipped down from the bed.
The sticky adhesion of sweat and blood all over his body felt very uncomfortable. The changes in the muscles of his limbs and torso did not look all that different at first glance in the dim lamplight, but the strength they could exert was surely completely different, and needed practical verification.
Taking a deep breath, his extraordinary five senses activated. Victor heard the fine tones of Proof of a Hero, saw the utter mess in the room, and also smelled the indescribable stench on his own body... a wave of nausea rose in him.
After retrieving the alarm clock from the corner, Victor went straight upstairs, planning to first find a place to bathe. As for the basement, he would come back and clean it after washing himself.
But he had only gone up to the first floor when he discovered something was wrong. The entire magic tower had become completely new, entirely different from how it had been half a month ago before he went down!
Could it be that the Trial of the Grasses had been too painful, so he had transmigrated again!?
His extraordinary five senses quickly found countless similarities around him, confirming that the tower was still that tower. It was only that some kind of power had changed its appearance. And judging from the seamless arrangement of the furnishings, without even the slightest disharmony, the one most likely to be able to accomplish this was naturally the original owner of the magic tower, the archmage Alzur.
Indeed, in history, he had suddenly disappeared, and no news of his death had ever been heard.
Step by step, he cautiously walked toward the doorway. When the situation was unclear, the best choice was still to retreat first. Having just finished transforming and immediately becoming full of confidence, Victor was not that kind of divine genius.
Unfortunately, even so, he still failed to leave smoothly, because a buzzing sound rang out like someone using a megascope. In the mirage formed by rising mist, the projection of a man blocked the path the young man had to take, his expression proud and self-assured.
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