ALL NOVEL 32. The Drowner Whistle.
Right!
Why do I have to avoid Vesemir?
After quickly raising another question, while the three apprentices were having dinner, Allen kept pondering this question.
All the other roommates in the dormitory were already "asleep."
With a thought, a drowner whistle appeared in Allen's hand. The whistle was a flat cylindrical shape, made of a ghastly white bone material. Its surface felt slick, as if coated in oil. Although it was categorized as a bait whistle, there was no mouthpiece on it. All you had to do was gently shake it to use it. This drowner whistle looked primitive, as if it had been carved from bone, and its usage was simple.
Allen could openly use it, claiming he made it himself after being inspired by alchemy lessons.
Would Vesemir not believe it?
Who would think Allen had something like the "Monster Hunter's Notebook"?
"I should have thought of this sooner. I could have used the drowner whistle the day after I got it and hunted so many more drowners by now!"
A flash of regret passed through Allen, and he began to reflect.
"These past few days of Vera's alchemy lessons have lowered my sense of urgency in this comfortable and orderly environment!"
Stay alert!
The alchemy skills were just beginning to show promise, and the Killer Whale potion was still out of reach. Now, there were only twenty-one days left until the mountain trial. In these twenty-one days, who knows if there will be unexpected events like the sorceress leaving again.
Will the Killer Whale potion be successfully made in one go?
Will there be unexpected changes in the mountain trial?
Is time really abundant?
Stay alert!
Stay alert!
Stay alert!
Not a single day can be wasted!
After intense thinking, Allen planned out his excuses for hunting tomorrow and then fell asleep.
....
The next day at noon.
Allen walked out of the alchemy room. The moment he closed the door, his face turned dark.
Mary couldn't compare to Vera. This was indisputable. But before today, Allen didn't know Mary's true level and still held some hope. After all, a college student teaching a middle school student might not necessarily do worse than a high school teacher. But reality gave him a slap in the face.
[Do you want to spend 7101 small experience beads to unlock skills?]
A class of about four hours reduced only 19 small experience beads.
When Vera taught him, the least reduction was 50, and yesterday's class directly reduced 470.
Halfway through the class, seeing the system prompt that only reduced one bead every few minutes, Allen's heart sank. However, Mary was indeed serious about imparting knowledge, so Allen adjusted his mindset, put on a face of appreciation and a fake smile, and listened until the end. But if it goes on like this, by the time of the mountain trial, the alchemy class would have only reduced four to five hundred skill requirements, not even enough for a fraction.
Time was becoming tight!
He needed to collect at least five thousand small experience beads in twenty days.
Damn it!
Allen's face grew darker. It had taken him ten days to collect fifteen hundred. If the drowner whistle didn't meet expectations, alchemy skills would be a lost cause.
As for whether his current strength could get him through the mountain trial bare-handed?
Allen had indeed considered this. After all, as one's strength grows, it's hard not to become complacent. So, whenever he had the chance, he asked Vesemir this question.
The master witcher's answer was negative.
"The mountain trial has little to do with swordsmanship and signs. Crossing the river and dealing with the troll rely heavily on luck..."
Maybe realizing he sounded too harsh, Vesemir paused and then comforted: "Allen, you're a natural-born witcher. Don't worry, you'll definitely pass the trial..."
The master witcher's tone was firm. He believed that the more talented a witcher apprentice was, the more likely they were to survive the trial. In his eyes, a genius like Allen was 100% sure to pass the mountain trial. Not because of his strength, but because they were destined for this profession.
Destined.
This was almost a belief among all witchers. They sincerely believed in fate.
After all, many witchers were born out of accidents. They were chosen by accidents and fate to walk this path. They might also die because of accidents and fate. So, among the three stages of the mountain trial, only the part with the troll could be mitigated through communication skills; the other two stages relied heavily on fate.
Would they be discovered by drowners when swimming to the center of the lake?
Would they lock eyes with the troll as soon as they entered the cave?
Instead of saying the mountain trial tests the apprentices' past learning outcomes, it's more like testing whether they have been abandoned by fate. But Allen didn't believe in fate. Even if he was likely the prophesied child of miracles, Allen was unwilling to let fate decide his life.
Man conquers nature.
The plan was clear. With alchemy lessons being ineffective, he had no choice but to carve a bloody path. Taking a deep breath, Allen walked down the stairs.
...
Familiar with greeting the witchers guarding the gates of Kaer Morhen, Allen and Vesemir set off on their drowner hunting journey as usual.
"Master Vesemir, we don't need to deliberately search for tracks this time."
The master witcher was taken aback, thinking Allen didn't want to hunt drowners anymore, and said: "True, after so many days, your understanding of drowners is no less than mine. Shall we head back then?"
Vesemir thought to himself, luckily, they had just left Kaer Morhen, and they could still catch the first round of heavy drinking if they returned now.
Allen was also taken aback by his words, and a few seconds later, said: "No... I haven't given up."
Allen took out the drowner whistle from his pouch and handed it to the master witcher, "I've found a better way."
Vesemir stopped, took the whistle in confusion. He examined it closely, finding nothing special and sensing no magical aura. Though its shape was odd, many bone carvings were similar.
Could this thing find drowners?
Vesemir's mind was full of doubts. However, Considering Allen was learning alchemy from Vera of Toussaint, the master witcher glanced at Allen and then took out the school's emblem from his collar. The roaring wolf head emblem remained still.
"Are you sure? Using this to find drowners?" Uncertain about the author of this item, the master witcher cautiously asked again, "Did you make this?"
"Of course, I..." Allen instinctively wanted to say yes, but a flash of inspiration made him change his answer, "Vera made it. I'm not skilled enough yet..."
Vesemir nodded slightly, his expression changing from suspicion to amazement.
"As expected of Lady Vera, creating a magical item without any detectable magic aura."
Allen: ?
Is there a possibility?
That this thing is not a magical item at all.
...….
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33. Killer Lake.
34. The Conjunction of the Spheres.
35. The Drowner King.
36. Allen, Dead?
37. Demon Hunting.