Chapter 289: A Trial by Combat is the Best Gauge of Strength
The battle was over quickly. Lynn shook the blood from his blade and sheathed his sword. He took out his hunting knife and gathered the necessary materials from the large Forktail. The smaller one had been roasted into a cinder and had no salvageable parts.
He then searched the nest for anything of value. Unfortunately, it wasn't like a video game where he could just find a piece of gear glowing with purple light.
There were only gnawed bones, uneaten food, and the eggs the Forktail had laid. If left alone, it wouldn't be long before new Forktails hatched. A normal witcher would only have one choice: use the Igni sign to burn all the eggs.
But Lynn had another option. He put all the eggs into his runed leather pouch. He would sell them at the auction house when he returned to Novigrad.
Some sorcerers liked to buy monster eggs and raise the creatures from birth. A regular person couldn't tame them, but with magic and potions, a sorcerer could.
Some sorcerers enjoyed training several monsters to be their war pets. They simply liked the feeling of being surrounded by their powerful companions.
This first real-world test of his enhanced abilities left Lynn very satisfied. He had encountered a Forktail before, back when he was still an apprentice.
At that time, he had only been able to hunt it successfully with Eskel and Lambert. But now, he could handle one easily on his own.
After the fight, his physical stamina and Chaos magic were barely depleted. The battle was far from the limit of his full power. This gave Lynn a great sense of security.
In a world full of dangers, strength was the only guarantee of a good life. This was especially true for the goals he intended to achieve in the future.
At the mine, the owner paced anxiously. He had no idea if Lynn would succeed. He only knew that if Lynn failed, he would have to find a druid.
The cost of a druid was one thing; the time lost traveling back and forth would be a major problem. With the mine shut down for so many days, his losses were mounting.
Just as the mine owner was lost in thought, the sound of footsteps echoed. It was Lynn returning. When he saw Lynn carrying two bloody bundles, the owner was startled at first, then asked excitedly, "You're back, Master! So? Did you figure out how the sheep flew?"
"I've figured everything out. The sheep didn't fall because of divine wrath; a Forktail did it," Lynn said, dropping the bundles on the ground.
"A what?"
"A Forktail. A type of draconid. It has a wingspan of over three meters, sharp fangs and claws, and a tail more powerful than a battering ram. If it hits someone, they won't live to tell the tale."
The mine owner had never seen such a monster, and just hearing Lynn's description, he didn't want to. "You're saying a Forktail dropped the sheep? Why would it do that?"
Lynn spread his hands and patiently explained, "Forktails are carnivores. They eat all kinds of meat. A young Forktail caught a sheep, but as it was flying over the mine, it got its eye pierced by a tree in the nearby forest. In its agony, it dropped the dead sheep, and that's how it landed on that poor worker. As for the roar you all heard, that was the young Forktail crying out when its eye was pierced."
The mine owner didn't fully understand, but he was visibly shaken. "Please tell me you killed that beast."
Lynn gestured to the two bundles on the ground. "Yes, I not only killed that monster, I killed its mother too. You don't have to worry anymore."
The mine owner breathed a sigh of relief, then said a little sheepishly, "Master, your thoroughness is commendable, but I can only pay you the agreed-upon amount. It's all the money I have."
Just like in Night City, you could never make big money from the small sums given by middlemen. If a witcher only ever earned the meager rewards from contracts, they would never amount to much.
The current Lynn no longer cared for the small change of witcher contracts; he was simply using them to increase his reputation and standing with the Skellige clans.
"It's fine."
"Thank you, Master. May Freya protect you."
The Port of Holmstein.
This port was located in the south of Ard Skellig and was the territory of Clan Drummond. However, there were very few ships docked at Holmstein.
In the legends of the Isles, the bloodlines of all the clans could be traced back to the mythical hero, Hemdall. It was said that one Midsummer's Day, he left his hunting cabin and saw the goddess Helyn.
The two fell in love and were inseparable all summer, but Helyn had to leave when autumn came. This is also why the islanders believed that summer was the most pleasant season on the islands, as it was when Helyn stayed with Hemdall.
Hemdall and Helyn had six sons, and from them, the six Skellige clans were born. Hemdall gave each of them a small island to rule, but they had to either drive out the original inhabitants or make a pact with them to gain the right to rule.
One of Hemdall's sons was named Mordulf. He was given leadership over Undvik Island. But he wasn't as talented as his brothers.
He wasn't particularly smart, or brave, nor did he possess any special gift worthy of a hero. So Mordulf resented his father, Hemdall, for not bestowing great talent upon him. But Hemdall insisted that he had given all his sons equal talent.
It was just that not all of their talents would manifest at the same time. Therefore, Mordulf had to wait patiently for the right moment.
But Mordulf couldn't accept this explanation. He thought it was just an excuse for his father's favoritism. So he repeatedly sought out trouble, both to express his displeasure and to foolishly and recklessly believe that it would make his talent appear.
But his actions angered Hemdall, who decided to hide Mordulf's talent even deeper. In the end, Mordulf's life was full of many exciting adventures, but he died without ever finding his talent.
Mordulf's descendants became Clan Drummond. Like their ancestor, the members of this clan were self-important but without much real ability.
The Drummond clan gave up their ancestral home on Undvik Island long ago and moved to the more prosperous Ard Skellig, settling in the south. This kind of uninvited move naturally caused dissatisfaction with Clan Craite, who had lived on Ard Skellig since ancient times.
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