Grinding as a Witcher - 219 (Patreon)

Chapter 219: The Library

“Hah... hah...”

Heavy, labored breathing echoed through the gloom.

An ashen skinned figure crouched with its body hunched over, exposed teeth protruding past its lips and its face twisted into a hideous grimace.

It pressed itself cautiously into a corner, watching for any movement around it.

Suddenly, a silvery white flash sliced through the darkness.

A stream of filthy blood sprayed from its neck and splattered across the dust covered stone floor.

“Ugh...”

The Nekker did not even have time to let out a proper wail before collapsing to the ground, its body twitching uncontrollably.

A figure stepped out of the shadows, both hands gripping the hilt of his Silver Sword.

His catlike eyes, colored yellow, white, and green, swept over the surroundings.

Two more figures slowly emerged behind him.

Alvin and Keltullis.

Coën carefully sensed the area. Once he was certain there were no other living creatures or signs of movement nearby, he sheathed his sword.

“That takes care of them. Keep going and we’ll reach the hall of Kaer Seren.”

Alvin strode forward, the stale scent of the decaying castle filling his nose.

Dust blanketed the surrounding stone walls. After years without maintenance or inhabitants, cracks had begun spreading across them in several places.

The wooden furnishings had also rotted badly with the passage of time.

Keltullis folded her arms beneath her chest, accentuating her voluptuous figure, and gave a displeased grunt.

Clearly, she did not care much for the place.

The two humans and the dragon continued down the long corridor. Coën used the Aard Sign to sweep away the cobwebs, clearing their view considerably.

The hall of Kaer Seren was very similar in structure to Kaer Morhen.

The center was spacious, with thick pillars supporting the vaulted ceiling on all sides. Numerous weapons hung from the stone walls, including crossed halberds, greatswords, poleaxes, armor, and round shields.

A portrait hung on the wall directly ahead. It depicted a white haired Witcher whose amber cat eyes seemed sharp enough to pierce through anyone looking at him.

Red banners hung on either side of the portrait, each embroidered with a Griffin in golden thread, lending the hall a solemn dignity.

Coën looked up, nostalgia flickering through his catlike eyes.

“That portrait is of the founder of our Old School, the Witcher Erland.”

Alvin studied the portrait carefully. “I’ve heard Vesemir speak of him. He said Erland was a man worthy of respect, someone who never betrayed his convictions, who slew monsters and protected the people.”

Coën smiled.

“That’s right. He upheld the code of chivalry and taught us a great deal. We’ve always tried to follow in his footsteps.”

“Come on. The library isn’t here. Follow me.”

Coën turned and led Alvin onto a spiral staircase descending underground.

The light steadily faded, but that posed no difficulty for either Alvin or Coën.

As for Keltullis, her eyes gleamed like candles in a darkened room, bright and keen.

Numerous rooms lined both sides of the corridor. There were incubation chambers, torture chambers, and underground cages once used to imprison monsters. The creatures had long since been cleared out, but the damage left across the walls showed that some extremely powerful monsters had once been confined there.

When they reached the end of the corridor, Coën stopped.

“We’re here.”

Yet there was nothing before them except a solid stone wall.

Keltullis sniffed the air.

“It’s well hidden, but I can still sense a powerful concentration of magic. There’s an Intersection here.”

Vesemir had once taught Alvin that, aside from cats, dragons were the creatures most sensitive to points where magical power converged.

Alvin could also faintly perceive that subtle current of Chaos Magic.

It had been concealed exceptionally well. An ordinary Mage would never have detected it.

Coën spoke calmly.

“As expected of a Dragon. Your sensitivity to magic really is remarkable. You’re right. Besides the Circle of Elements outside, Kaer Seren also conceals an Intersection.”

As he spoke, he raised both hands. His five fingers intertwined in an intricate sequence, almost like butterflies darting among flowers, forming a complex Sign.

Magic surged.

The stone wall before them began to ripple and sink, its surface undulating like water.

“Pop.”

It was a hidden Portal, and an exceptionally high level one at that. An ordinary Mage would never have discovered it.

Even high level Mages would have difficulty sensing its existence unless they personally came to this place.

No wonder those Mages had returned empty handed even after using an avalanche to launch a surprise attack on Kaer Seren.

With a faint sound, the turbulent magical fluctuations gradually subsided.

“The Portal is stable. The library is inside.”

The two humans and the Dragon entered one after another.

A blinding flash swept past them, and their vision quickly cleared.

Kaer Seren’s library was not particularly large. Its layout resembled a vast spiral stairwell.

The surrounding walls rose all the way to the towering vaulted ceiling. An exquisite relief covered the dome overhead, inlaid with countless gemstones.

It was a map of the stars.

Bookshelves had been built directly into the walls and were packed from end to end with an astonishing number of books.

Even Keltullis could not help drawing in a breath at the sight.

Alvin noticed a wooden table in the center of the library, apparently meant for whoever oversaw the collection.

A man sat there in brown leather armor and a green leather cap, slumped over the table as though he had fallen asleep.

He did not move at all.

Coën slowly approached him. He lowered his eyes and pressed his lips together, sorrow showing on his face.

“This is my teacher. I mentioned him when we were at the foot of the mountain. Keldar. I hadn’t heard anything about him for all these years, so I knew he must have died. I just never thought I’d find him here... So in the end, he came home.”

Coën reached out and gently straightened the leather cap that had slipped sideways on Keldar’s head.

None of the Witcher Schools had survived to this day without hardship. Every one of them had endured countless betrayals.

The School of the Wolf was no different, and neither was the School of the Griffin.

Alvin did not disturb Coën.

Instead, he swept his mental energy throughout the entire library.

As Coën had said, the collection was remarkably comprehensive.

There were four bestiaries devoted to monsters. Alvin had never seen two of them before, while the other two were preserved in far better condition than the copies at Kaer Morhen.

There was also Hugo of Alna’s Aviarium et reptiliarium, an exceedingly rare treasure.

Beyond that, the number of books concerning magic was staggering.

Forces of the Elements, History of Magic, Theory of Magic, Dhu Dwimmermorc...

Even long lost forbidden magic and necromancy were recorded here, with the texts themselves preserved in excellent condition.

With such a treasure trove hidden here, it was no wonder those Mages had coveted it and tried to seize it for themselves.

With a collection like this, there was more than enough knowledge to establish not only a Witcher school, but an entire academy of magic.

Kaer Seren’s location was also quite favorable.

The sea lay to the west, making it possible to establish a maritime hub, while the castle itself stood within the mountains, easy to defend and difficult to assault.

It was an ideal place to establish an extraordinary academy such as a Witcher school.

Alvin’s mental energy swept through the library, passing over every book one by one.

Suddenly, a faint and obscure fluctuation caught his attention.

He crooked a finger.

A sheet of parchment flew out from the narrow gap between two thick books.

The parchment was curled and yellowed with age, giving it an unmistakably ancient appearance.

Crooked, uneven writing covered its surface.

Alvin was slightly surprised.

The characters did not belong to any known system of writing.

They were not even Primordial Runes.

Keltullis stepped over to his side, her slender brows drawing together. Confusion appeared on her face at first, only to be replaced by astonishment a moment later.

“This is... this is Dragon Script!?”