System of the Beast Slayer [litrpg Adventure]
Copyright© 1999 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 193
The Witchers had cleaned the crypt thoroughly on their way in, and on the way out they met no more harassment from Wraiths.
And for a good while yet, the Verrieres crypt would not breed any new ones.
Once back above ground, they found night had fallen. The sky was dark, the moon and stars dim, and far off in White Orchard village a few faint lights blinked. But the two had no intention of seeking lodging in the village, and at that hour it was hardly fitting to call upon Lord Verrieres, so they camped in the wild for the night.
Roy placed Kolgrim’s remains into his Inventory Capacity, intending one day to bury him in the new Witcher stronghold. Letho strongly approved. Most Witchers spent their whole lives fighting monsters and danger, only to end at last as rotting corpses in the wilderness, their bodies turned into fodder for birds and beasts. For men like them, even a grave marker after death counted as a rare and honorable burial.
Under the moonlight, sparks burst from the campfire.
The young Witcher sat cross-legged on a jutting stone, eyes shut in meditation.
His mind sank into the Template. Ever since leveling up outside Brokilon, he had one Skill Point left. The time had come to spend it.
For entry-level skills like Longsword Specialization, Crossbow Mastery, Witcher Signs, Witcher Senses, and Alchemy, investing Skill Points now was poor value. Since those skills were still in their early stages, they could be raised through training.
As for Carnage at level five, he meant to keep using the old method and level it through slaughtering monsters.
In the end his attention settled on the level-two Scry, and Meditation at level four.
Scry had not advanced in a long while, and its flaws had become obvious. It could not pierce the disguises of Cursed Ones or Higher Vampires, and when used on targets with high Perception it gave him nothing but question marks. As a tool for gathering information, it was beginning to feel strained.
But the last enhancement to Intimidation had given him a clue. Once a Skill reached level five, and its related attributes reached ten, it gained a stage advancement.
Now Meditation’s related attributes, Spirit at 12 and Constitution at 11.1, had both passed ten.
Only the level was lacking.
Compared to Scry, Roy favored Meditation.
The instant he focused on the “+” sign, cool clarity filled his mind, and warmth spread through his body.
Meditation LV4 → LV5
Spirit: 12 → 12.5
Mana: 160 → 165
Constitution: 11.1 → 11.6
HP: 151 → 156
...
“Your Meditation has reached LV5. Constitution and Spirit have reached 10. This skill has gained a new trait—
Activation: You have become highly proficient in Meditation and begun to grasp its deeper essence. During Meditation, your body will automatically absorb and store water-element essence from the surrounding environment.
After completing one full Meditation cycle (5 hours), you gain one ‘Activation’ charge. Upon use, it instantly restores 20% of your Mana and HP, and can heal minor injuries.
Note: Activation cannot stack or be stored, and will dissipate automatically within one day.”
...
Roy thought on it for a while. Activation, in relation to Meditation, was much like the way Intimidation stood to Carnage, a derived ability of sorts.
Meditation’s level would surely affect how strong Activation became.
At the moment, one use restoring twenty percent of his health was not as much as a Swallow Potion’s thirty percent, but it acted instantly, unlike the potion’s gradual recovery over ten minutes or more.
Then there was the mana restoration. Twenty percent came to thirty-three points, enough for one more use of Signs.
And it cost no ingredients, came with none of a potion’s toxic side effects.
“One blue flask and one red flask, stored automatically after the day’s routine meditation. Convenient, and saves trouble.”
With that thought, Roy quieted his mind. In the watery night, amid the crackle of sparks and the steady sound of Letho’s breathing beside him, he slowly entered the radiant world of meditation.
...
At dawn the next morning, the young Witcher woke from meditation and touched the wound on his left shoulder. It had already closed and itched faintly, leaving behind only a pale scar.
“Activation’s effect on minor wounds is pretty decent.”
Not long after, the two Witchers arrived at a hillside east of White Orchard village, where the castle of Sir Verrieres stood.
The fortress was named after one of Temeria’s kings, Amavet. The Verrieres family had ruled White Orchard from there for generations. Moss and heavy vines crept over the walls, and the castle’s position was excellent, overlooking the full beauty of White Orchard and commanding a clear view of the village below.
At the gate, two soldiers in padded armor, longswords at their waists, stood on watch. At once they spotted the two Witchers wrapped in black cloaks, showing only their faces.
“Halt there. State your identity and your business.” Their tone was unfriendly. The two Witchers cut a poor figure, wrapped in mystery with something dark and uncanny about them, and Letho especially, built like a hill, was enough to unsettle any man.
“We’ve come to visit Lord Ignatius. There is an important matter to discuss.”
“An important matter?” Through the slit of his helmet, one soldier looked them up and down. “His lordship is a busy man. He has no time for the likes of you. Be off.”
“We are Witchers...”
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