A fantastical journey across the heavens, beginning with the Witcher.

Chapter 83 Return to Kaer Morhen

The moment you pass through the portal, a gentle breeze blows in, and a wide-open plaza comes into view.

This is Kaer Morhen, the birthplace of the Witcher Order.

However, this once magnificent and majestic castle has long lost its former glory.

The number of Wolf Hunters currently stationed here is pitifully small; even including Li De from the Bear faction, there are only five in total.

In addition, most of the people spent their time wandering, leaving the castle unattended.

Apart from a few core rooms and training grounds where people could still stay, most of the rest of the place was abandoned.

The plaza where the teleportation beacon was located was already filled with waist-high weeds and shrubs, exuding a sense of desolation and decay.

Li De clenched his fist, feeling a surge of energy coursing through his body, as a gentle life force seeped into his skin.

It's the effect of [Vigorous Life]; the surrounding weeds and bushes are slowly restoring his life.

"I've become Garen, hiding in the bushes to heal."

Li De brushed aside the surrounding weeds, never before had he felt that these annoying little things were so cute as they were today.

Of course, they are not entirely the same. In the game, Garen can only regenerate health after leaving combat, while he can slowly recover health as long as he is in a lush, vegetated environment.

This miraculous effect also indirectly proves how awkward Kaer Morhen's current situation is; to call it dilapidated and desolate would be an understatement.

Without thinking further, Li De walked towards the castle.

As Athera floated ahead, the thorny bushes and weeds seemed to come alive, automatically parting to the sides to make way for a clean and flat path. After walking for a while, she arrived near the main building of the castle. The surrounding grass was noticeably shorter, clearly indicating that someone regularly tended to it.

Li De patted the neck of the coal ball beside him, and the black horse understood, flicked its tail, and ran towards the stable on its own.

Inside the shed, several horses were munching on hay with their heads down. Coal Ball, being arrogant by nature, pushed past the white horse next to him and monopolized the richest part of the haystack. He chewed greedily, stomped his hooves, snorted, and swung his tail back and forth, looking every bit like a hooligan among horses.

The castle was empty and quiet; you could hear the wind whistling through the windows.

Li De guessed where everyone was at that moment, and immediately turned and walked straight towards the practice area.

As soon as I got closer, I heard the crisp sound of wooden swords clashing together and the sounds of laughter and playful fighting.

Escal, Lambert, Vesemir, and Geralt—the four remaining Wolf Witchers in the world—are engaged in a fierce battle in the training grounds.

Each held a smooth wooden sword, sometimes engaging in one-on-one duels, and sometimes fighting in a chaotic melee.

Ciri stood to the side, jumping around excitedly, her face flushed, cheering everyone on like a little sun, and her voice could be heard throughout the venue.

"Dad! Hit him! Hit him! Don't hold back!"

"Uncle Vesemir, fight back! Block it!"

"Uncle Eskar, what's wrong with you? Is this child's play? Attack now!"

Lambert was so angry he laughed.

The youngest of the Wolf Witcher twisted his wrist, deflecting Eskar's attack with his wooden sword, and with a flash, he withdrew from the battle, charging towards Ciri without a word.

The little girl screamed, laughed, and turned to run away, but Lambert caught up with her in a few steps, curled his finger, and gently flicked her forehead.

"Everyone in the stadium is cheering, but no one's cheering for me, right?"

Ciri covered her forehead, her big eyes darting around, and immediately pouted, putting on a pitiful look as she began to argue.

"No, Uncle Lambert, I haven't even had a chance to cheer you on yet! I was just about to shout when you came over and bullied me!"

"Bullshit!" Lambert retorted irritably. "Those shouts you made were all when they were hitting me."

"That's because you're not good enough."

Ciri stuck out her tongue and muttered something under her breath.

"I'm not good enough?!"

Lambert's eyes widened instantly, refusing to admit that he had been outmatched; he was simply younger and less experienced.

When he's the same age as Geralt, bullying these old men will be a piece of cake!

"Go ask around in the Kingdom of Cordwin, everyone knows the name of me, Lambert the Witcher!"

"The name of that sucker? How many times do we have to tell him the story of him going into a widow's house and getting his reward money stolen?"

Standing on the second-floor terrace, with his arms crossed, Li De mercilessly exposed Lambert's dirty secrets in front of everyone.

Everyone burst into laughter. It's not uncommon for witchers to be robbed or stolen from, but Lambert was the first to be caught in a honey trap.

"Shut up! You're the only one who keeps bringing this up! We clearly agreed last year that no one was allowed to mention it again!"

Lambert knew who it was without even turning around, and shouted irritably.

"Oh, I'm not trustworthy, what can you do about it?"

Li De climbed over the stone railing, leaped off the terrace, bent his legs slightly to cushion the impact, and landed safely and steadily.

"Welcome home, kid."

The oldest of the group, Vesemir, stepped forward, a gentle smile on his wrinkled face, and patted Li De on the shoulder.

"I'm back."

Li De nodded in agreement, his tone full of respect.

In his heart, Vesemir was both a teacher and a father figure, one of the people he respected most.

As soon as she finished speaking, a warm, emerald-green light drifted over, and Aethera slowly landed beside Li De, hovering quietly in the air.

"What is it?"

The witchers immediately became alert.

Aiskar reacted the fastest, darting to grab the silver sword that was placed against the wall and tossing it neatly to the group.

Li De quickly stopped everyone's movements: "Don't be nervous, they're not enemies."

"This is Athera, you could call her a partner, she's absolutely trustworthy."

"The spirit of nature?"

After thinking for a few seconds, Vesemir uttered a single word.

"Do you know him?"

"I've read about this in books. It's a rare nature deity, a treasure in the eyes of the Druids. How did you manage to bring it over?"

Li De didn't hide anything, omitting the secrets of dealing with Odim, and simply recounted the background of the hunchbacked swamp, the old witch, rescuing the tree heart, and signing the contract.

"So, you plan to establish it in Kaer Morhen?"

Geralt sheathed his silver sword, circled the tree core a few times, and asked curiously.

Ciri, who had been hiding behind the group, suddenly became bolder when she saw that none of her uncles regarded the beautiful green sphere as an enemy.

She tiptoed forward, extended a finger, and mischievously tried to poke Athera's smooth shell, but was gently dodged.

"That's right. Kaer Morhen is inherently well-hidden. With Ethera here, every blade of grass and every tree will become our eyes and soldiers. Even if the enemy grows wings, they won't be able to fly in easily."

Although most factions still rely on witchers to kill monsters and will not exterminate them, it is better to be safe than sorry.

A century ago, when the Wolf Clan was at its peak, a mob, organized by an unknown sorcerer, stormed Kaer Morhen and slaughtered all the witchers in the castle.

Only a few witchers who traveled outside survived, such as Vesemir.

Even now, Li De still can't understand how more than twenty demon hunters and forty apprentices were killed by a mob.

Vesemir couldn't understand it either; heaven knows how he felt when he returned to the castle full of excitement only to find a pile of corpses.

Even now, the old man still has nightmares about it and walks around the castle every night, fearing that the tragedy will happen again.

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