Chapter 77

A warm, green orb of flesh rested in a palm, the fingers closing and kneading it without pause; its elastic, yielding heat felt odd, suggestive in a way that pricked at an unwholesome imagination.

“Basic Green Mutagen.” Larger and darker than a Lesser Mutagen, it gave off a fresh scent wholly unlike the host’s filthy, nauseating odour.

“Worth the two days of near-sleepless fighting.” The Smaerk Mine tunnels, feared even by Mount Carbon dwarves, would not be threatened by only a single nest of Nekkers. Letho and Roy pressed on two more days through the tunnels and cleared another nest of thirty Nekkers.

Perhaps by instinctive understanding between strains, different Nekker bands held distinct territories and did not trespass on one another, nor did they mingle. Had they united against intruders, the two would have been forced to flee; there would be no chance to pick them off one by one.

As Letho put it, “Without a Nekker Warrior commanding them, Nekkers are a scatter of loose sand; with caution they pose little threat.”

In the days since they entered Smaerk Mine, aside from bare necessities of eating and sleeping, the rest of their time had been spent in tearing and slaughtering Nekkers.

Roy’s clothes and skin had been soaked and dried in blood until thick scabs formed; his face was no exception. He had visibly slimmed, but his vigour sharpened and his bearing matured.

After two days of relentless fighting, beyond the rare Basic Mutagen, the greatest gain was increased strength.

XP stacked to Witcher Lv3 (1590/1500), and a conspicuous level-up marker appeared.

He did not rush to spend it; cautious, he planned to reserve the Full Restoration skill that would come with the level until they had safely left Smaerk Mine.

Repeated, intense combat had trained his attributes; he felt his control over his body improve markedly, and each attribute now performed far better.