Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

Kyle Mohan.

The changes in this castle in the past ten years are surprising, and some villagers at the foot of the mountain spread the news that Kermohan was rebuilt. Although not many people believe it, the few people who have seen it with their own eyes are all attracted by this castle. There was even a painter who came to the door and begged Vesemir to paint a painting of Kermohan. He was rightfully rejected.

The old witcher now just wants to quietly train their new apprentice and do nothing else.

He was sitting on the balcony on the second floor of the castle, watching the young man in the yard stepping on the stake. He was wearing a thin shirt, and his black hair flew up and down with his beating. His cat's eyes confirmed his identity as a witcher.

Although still an apprentice.

Vesemir shouted: "Hurry up! Anderson! Do you want to wash the stables again tonight!"

The young man was shocked, he jumped up quickly, but accidentally fell off the stake. Vesemir let out a sigh. Anderson is good at everything, except that he is easily disturbed. He is still like this in training, how can he let him go out to accept commissions with peace of mind? You know, those monsters won't just make him more purple, they are deadly!

A hoarse voice came from behind him: "You are too harsh on him, Vesemir."

"Oh? It looks like you want to comment on the way I train my apprentices?" Vesemir turned away with a bad look. Geralt was standing behind him, shirtless, with a beard from last night on his chin. Traces of his vomit.

This made Vesemir even more upset.

He opened his mouth and wanted to reprimand Geralt, but the witcher who was ready to dodge slipped downstairs and only threw Vesemir: "I'll go down and teach him, you should rest and rest."

Vesemir had to sit back in his chair, and he muttered dissatisfiedly: "Who is old? I only killed that bat-wing demon not long ago! This guy who doesn't know how to respect the old..."

He looked at Anderson in the yard and remembered the day Geralt brought him back sixteen years ago.

He was still in the swaddling clothes at the time, and he even looked the size of a wine bottle. Because of the long-distance travel, the body is not very good. Vesemir once thought that the child was going to die, but who knew he would survive. very strong. The old man bought some goat milk for him to drink at the foot of the mountain and watched him grow up little by little. Vesemir used to leave the castle every year, but since Anderson came, he hadn't left in sixteen years.

Anderson received full witcher training at the age of twelve, and the 'gadget' left to him by Geralt's mysterious mage friend lived up to its terrible name. Thamir sat beside him all night. When he woke up the next morning, Anderson said he just fell asleep.

Looking at his cat eyes, Vesemir didn't know what to say. He remembered the sin he suffered in order to survive the trial of green grass when he was young, and couldn't help but sighed why the mage didn't come decades earlier.

Geralt walked out of Kyle Morhen's door, the sun was shining on him, and the witcher suddenly had the urge to go back and go to sleep, but because he drank the old man's stock last night again, he also vomited one place. If he went back to sleep now, Vesemir would probably be thrown out of Kyle Morhen, so he decided to teach Anderson for a while.

"Hey! Anderson! Come here!"

He stood in front of the gate and shouted, and Anderson jumped off the stake. He was growing so fast that he was almost on Geralt's shoulders.

"Have you practiced swords recently?" Geralt asked.

Anderson nodded.

"Very good, grab a training sword and go to the dummy and show me your training results."

Anderson did as he was told. Holding the unopened training sword, he stood in front of the armored training dummy and took a deep breath.

Waiting for Geralt's password.

But he waited a long time without hearing the witcher speak. He turned his head to look, Geralt was leaning on the stone brick and looked at him expressionlessly, and when he saw him turn his head, he even spread his hands: "What are you looking at me for? Do you want to wait for me to start? Listen, monsters and robbers on the road won't tell you they're going to attack, just start when you're ready."

After he finished speaking, Anderson began to swing his sword.

Geralt had to admit that Anderson's swordsmanship was very good. At least his feet are solid. This is very valuable. Many novices are keen on fancy sword-turning and wrist skills. Few people notice at the beginning that footwork is the foundation of swordsmanship, and it is also the trick that determines whether you are a killing machine or a half-baked swordsman.

His footsteps are very solid, and every step of stepping out and retracting is as precise as a machine, even with a little bit of the charm of being freely retractable. Geralt also noticed that he rarely used those flashy swordplays, like spinning the sword over his head like an idiot. Anderson chose only those swordsmanships that caused the most damage with the least amount of effort. He either attacked the eyes, the heart, or the arms and lower body.

"Not bad." Geralt gave a rare smile and nodded. Anderson put down his sword panting. Even though he had accepted the green grass trial, it was a bit difficult for him, a sixteen-year-old boy, to have a period of sword practice after training all morning. But he said nothing. Geralt liked his character very much, just like his mother.

Geralt was in a trance at the thought of his mother.

The days of adventures with the Master seem to be yesterday. He's a great traveling companion, can handle any topic, and it's always a pleasure chatting with him. All was well, except that he always liked being the Riddler, which was very frustrating. He could not forget what he experienced in Livia in 1234, the spooky manor and the brave girl were still vivid in his mind.

How are they doing now?

Geralt didn't have an answer, but he knew what happened to Verya, Anderson's mother. Her fame even spread to Novigrad, and within a decade she became a very famous female scholar in the world. Although Geralt didn't understand anything about her research, and wasn't interested in it.

Vesemir's voice came from above, awakening him from his memories: "Come up to dinner! Anderson! By the way, let the slacker next to you put on his clothes! Who walks around topless all day? He thought he What kind of handsome man is he?!"

Anderson looked at Geralt, who shrugged and ran into the castle. Geralt laughed, the old man's temper never changed.