Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

"What do you think about the Green Grass Trial?" The Master's abrupt words made the old man stunned for a moment. He quickly recovered and narrowed his eyes: "No special opinion, why do you ask that?"

"Because I want to know what a witcher mentor thinks about such a necessary but cruel and deadly ritual."

Vesemir fell silent. He was very familiar with the trial of green grass - the kind of familiarity that he didn't want to recall.

The complete process of the trial of green grass is as follows: After young witcher apprentices take a special alchemical decoction called "green grass", very special and serious changes will occur to their bodies and physiological structures. The "green grass" affects the nervous system, so a powerful mage or master alchemist must control the process.

Trials will produce a lightning-fast chain reaction, and the average person simply does not have enough reaction speed to deal with the various changes that occur in the process of apprentices. Moreover, this is an extremely painful process. The survival rate of the grass trial is usually only 3 out of 10, and even in the heyday of Kyle Morhan, it is only 40%, which is already the highest success rate. The few apprentices who survive must also undergo mutant transformation, which is also not an easy process.

The grass trial will last for about seven days, and after that, they will undergo mutant mutations, so that this stage is truly completed.

But what if the trial of green grass fails?

Trust me, even the toughest people don't want to see that kind of scene. In Vesemir's long life, he had seen many children die tragically because they couldn't survive. Their bodies would twist and swell, screaming in excruciating pain—the lightest way to die is to blow up into a puddle of shredded meat, and the more serious way to lose their minds and turn into a writhing mass of rotten flesh.

"...I don't want to think about it anymore."

Vesemir whispered, he raised his head, a light flashed in his eyes, like lightning, hitting the mage's face: "Listen, I can probably guess what you want, mage. If you plan to cultivate new hunters Demons as your soldiers—then someone will die here today."

The mage's smile disappeared, and he said solemnly and sincerely, "I don't think so. Of course, it's also right that you don't believe me."

Vesemir shook his head and said, "Just pretend you're not good, Mage. But Arzu himself can't achieve half the success rate. Why do you think you can do better than him?"

"Just try it and you'll know."

"We have no new apprentices."

"Who said no?" The Master asked back. He pointed to the door and said, "Isn't there a horse?"

"...what?"

Vesemir even thought he had heard it wrong, and stood up, trying to understand what the mage had just said.

"I said, there's a horse there," the wizard repeated, with the certainty in his words that Vesemir almost thought he wasn't talking about a horse, but a trained witcher apprentice.

Vesemir supported his forehead, and he suddenly felt a little tired: "Even if you are really crazy enough to use a horse for a grass trial, how do you get the raw materials? We haven't done it for many years. This matter is over, and there is no material reserve for a long time."

Geralt, who had been eavesdropping for a long time, came over and said, "Yeah, you need the spinal fluid of the fork-tailed dragon, the venom gland of the flying lion, the tongue of the albino vampire, the yam, the long-leaf plantain and Mandala roots. We probably have the last three in reserve."

The mage spread his hands: "Then let's go find it."

Vesemir raised his right hand and waved hard: "No, no. Mr. Ho, there's nothing of us here. Just you. If you're going to do this damn experiment yourself, try it yourself. I don't want to read it again. That picture, even if you want to use it on a horse.

"

After saying that, he left.

Geralt casually fiddled with the mop in his hand, stroking the rough wooden handle, and said, "Forgive the old man, he can't watch it again. Actually, it was really horrific."

He Shenyan stood on the spot with his hands behind his back. He looked up at the frescoes on the ceiling of Kermohan. There was a black-haired mage with a goatee occupying most of it. His image was portrayed very vividly, giving people an impression. A powerful and mysterious feeling. The mage suddenly asked, "Do you want to take a look?"

The witcher was a little stunned. He said, "What are you looking at?"

"Grass trial."

Geralt couldn't help laughing bitterly, although he already knew the character of his mysterious mage companion these days, but that didn't mean he understood. In his opinion, He Shenyan is indeed a lot better than other mages. He is a good person, but he is still as willful and arrogant as other mages, and there are often outrageous ideas in his mind, but he has enough action. to put this idea into practice. Reproducing the trial of green grass may be just a short-lived crazy idea.

"Trust me, Geralt, you won't regret it." He Shenyan laughed, he waved to the door, and Geralt's old horse flew in, neighing uneasy in the air. He Shenyan simply cast a spell to stun it, and his mental power covered the surrounding area. He easily found the oyster, the long-leaf car and the mandala root in the basement of the castle.

"Okay, okay. You're still short of three other ingredients. What do you want to replace?" Geralt spread his hands helplessly. He looked at his poor old horse lying on the ground and wasn't too worried.

"Well..." He Shenyan took out his hand in the air, and most of his right hand disappeared, as if it had suddenly reached into another space. The mage dug inside and took out a heavy black box.

"boom."

He threw the box on the ground, He Shenyan kicked it open, and it was full of bottles and jars. The wolf head pendant on Geralt's chest suddenly began to vibrate wildly. He frowned and asked, "What are these?"

"Substitute."

He stretched out his hand and began to pick out these dozens of bottles and jars. Geralt watched as he pulled out a jar labeled 'Red Dragon', which contained a beating heart. After the jar was taken out of the box by the mage, it quickly expanded. He Shenyan put it on the long table, and Geralt stared at the heart. It was dark red and very large. Geralt estimated that it was at least half a meter long.

He Shenyan took out another jar. Geralt didn't see the label on it this time. He only knew that it was a bottle of golden liquid.

"Well..." He Shenyan squatted on the ground, the corner of his black robe was dragged to the ground, and he was obsessed with cleanliness at this time. Yes, he reached for a small pitch-black bottle. Geralt saw the callout clearly this time: Shadow Essence.