The still cold spring air brushed against my face as I walked down the long dirt road, carrying with it was the scent of wildflowers and fresh earth. While behind me, the rhythmic creak sound of wooden wheels and the steady clip-clop of hooves provided a familiar soundtrack to my thoughts. Vesemir sat at the reins of our wagon, his weathered hands guiding the two draft horses with practiced ease, while Callum lounged in the back among our cargo, sharping his sword.
I reflected on what had happened in the past few weeks, pulling up my status window with a thought.
Title: Sequence 9: Hunter (19%)
I smiled slightly, watching the percentage shimmer in my vision before dismissing it. Over the past few weeks after Callum and I completed the Trial of the Mountain, I'd been waiting for winter to come to an end so we could start hunting again. The plan was easy. Raise my digestion rate of the potion, and figure out where I wanted to go and do.
I know that I'm a Witcher my life won't be easy, but I wasn't going to wander aimlessly around looking looking for hunting contracts. I needed to build up my resources. From connections, money, power. Especially learning how to hone my magic and Elder Blood abilities. But I would need a teacher for that.
Since then the keep had been restless during those final cold months, everyone eager to get back on the Path, and make more money, all of them hooping to feel useful again rather than cooped up in stone halls.
I'd told my fellow Wolf School Witcher's I wanted to go hunt some of the local game, and between refilling our food stores, I was going to sell some at the town a day's ride away. Geralt and Coen was the first to lave the Keep a week early wanting to avoid helping me. And Lamber and Eskel flat out said no. Which was fine since they helped me last time. So this time I was with Callum and Vesemir.
I mean it was a reasonable enough request, Witchers needed to eat, and the keep's coffers were always in need of replenishing.
But secretly, I wanted to see how much my potion digestion rate would increase by hunting regular animals. And 19% in three weeks wasn't bad, considering I'd started at 10% after consuming the Sequence 9 potion. Each deer I tracked and brought down didn't effect the digestion rate much. But each wolf I hunted, and each bear I faced, all of it contributed to my understanding of what it meant to be a Hunter. And helped increase my digestion rate.
But I knew the Acting method for my potion required more than just hunting rabbits and deer. I needed to hunt dangerous creatures, things that could fight back, things that posed a real threat. The system had been clear about that, the more I embodied the essence of a Hunter, the faster I would digest the potion and advance toward Sequence 8.
Which was why I hoped that once we got to the village, we could find some monster hunt commissions. It will be Callum and my first chance to hunt as official Witcher's. And I will really be able to cut loose. Even if it's just a investigation and exercising a spirit. It will still contribute to the Acting Method.
That's when Callum spoke from behind me, his voice carrying a note of complaint.
"Hey Cain, why do we have to be the ones to do this? I hate merchant duty."
I turned my head, and both Vesemir and I chuckled at that. The old Witcher's laugh a low rumble that seemed to come from deep in his chest. I decided to hope on the cart sitting next to Vesemir and relax the rest of the way to the village.
"Because you said you would head out with me once I went on the Path," I replied without turning around, my eyes scanning the road ahead for any signs of trouble. When l told everyone I would be come here to make some coin before going, they bolted. You and them hate Merchant duty and since this is my business venture, I have always be there to ensure it goes smoothly."
"Then why don't you have a horse? You walked most of the way but when leave from Vesemir side you won't have one." Callum shot back.
Vesemir answered for me, his voice carrying that patient tone he used when explaining something to the younger Witchers. "Because, Callum, one of these horses is for you and one is for me. Cain plans to sell everything we have, so we won't need the cart anymore. I'll take whatever funds we make back to the keep for storage after it's divided for your budgets."
I nodded, adding, "Plus, I don't want a horse. I'd rather travel by foot until I don't need to. It saves me more money just to ride with you instead."
The truth was more complicated than that. Walking gave me time to think, observe, and to use my enhanced senses to their fullest. On horseback, you missed things, the subtle tracks in the dirt, the way birds scattered from certain areas, the scent of blood or decay carried on the wind. A Hunter needed to be connected to the world around them, and that was harder to do from horseback.
Callum sighed from behind me, the sound exaggerated for effect. "Sounds like you're being cheap."
"I am," I admitted freely. "And for good reason."
"Which is?" Callum asked suspiciously.
"It's a surprise."
I could practically feel Callum's eye roll without even looking at him. He sighed harder, the sound almost theatrical. "Well, at least tell me our budget for our journey is decent then."
I nodded, doing the mental math I'd already calculated a dozen times. "Between the both of us, 2,500 crowns each, and selling everything we should get an extra 4,000, maybe 4,200 best case scenario."
Callum whistled, a long, impressed sound. "Man, that's a lot. And you give this to everyone when they leave to go on the Path?"
Vesemir shook his head, and I could hear the amusement in his voice. "You're funny, boy. He at most gives everyone 1,500 crowns. If he gave that away to the others, we wouldn't have any money in the keep's coffers. Especially since everyone on average only brings back 700 to 1,000."
There was a pause, and I could sense Callum processing this information. His voice, when it came, was genuinely curious. "Then how do we have so much money?"
"It's because of Cain," Vesemir said, and I could hear the note of pride in his voice that he tried to hide. "When he suggested hunting and selling the meat at the closest villages, that brought in more money. Plus other services like guarding merchant carts, which we normally don't do, but Cain was right and it brought us more money. The boy has a head for business that most Witcher's lack I will admit that. I'm starting thick we have been a little to rigid in our ways over the years."
I felt a small surge of satisfaction at that. In my previous life, I'd watched enough anime and read enough light novels to understand basic economics and the importance of diversifying income streams. The Witchers were skilled fighters and monster hunters, but they were terrible at managing money. They'd take whatever coin was offered, and never really negotiate unless they were underpaid, and never think about long-term financial planning.
I'd changed that, slowly but surely over the years. It had taken years of careful suggestions, But it was proven my ideas worked, and the results showed them that Witcher's didn't have to live hand-to-mouth between contracts.
I want the Witcher's to understand that being self sufficient, and knowing how to forge for yourself are great skills, and mentality to have. But having a understand of a higher standard of operations and living should be applied to. Not living in squaller. Even a Hermit knows how to do more then live and wander.
"We're approaching the village," I called back, spotting the wooden palisade walls in the distance. "Get ready, guys."
As we drew closer, I could make out more details. The village of Oakvale wasn't large, maybe three to four hundred souls at most, but it was prosperous by the standards of the Northern Kingdoms. The walls were well-maintained, the fields outside showed signs of bountiful cultivation, and smoke rose from dozens of chimneys, carrying the scent of cooking fires and forge work.
The local guard at the gate straightened as we approached, his hand resting casually on his sword hilt. But when he recognized us, his posture relaxed and a genuine smile crossed his weathered face.
"Back again this year too, Witchers?" he called out. "Catch anything new?"
I shook my head, returning his smile. "Not this year, Mikael. How's the wife and daughter?"
His face lit up at the question. "They're both good. She loved that jewel you sold me, and at such a cheap price. It's as new as the day I gave it to her."
I nodded, genuinely pleased. The "jewel" had been a minor magical trinket I'd acquired in a trade, it had a simple enchantment that kept it clean and shiny, an adding a touch to her personal beauty, nothing more. That would make any guard trying to make his wife happy, it was worth far more than the handful of crowns I'd charged him. But I considered it an investment. "I'm glad to hear that. Give them my best regards."
He nodded enthusiastically, waving us through. "Save me some meat so I have something to come home with tonight."
"As long as you have the coin, I will," I replied with a slight practiced grin.
As we walked into the village, we passed several homes and people who looked up from their work to wave at us. A few children ran alongside the wagon for a moment before their mothers called them back. An old woman sweeping her doorstep smiled and nodded. A blacksmith paused in his work to raise a hand in greeting.
Vesemir's voice carried a note of wonder. "Still can't believe how friendly the people have gotten to us."
"That comes from building a relationship with people," I explained, my eyes scanning the familiar streets. "We've been coming here for years, and at first people didn't trust us or our items. But after several years of coming here, they know our faces and trust us. We're not just strange Witcher's passing through, we're familiar faces who bring quality goods and don't cause trouble."
"But still, why do we have to do this every time?" Callum added from the back of the wagon. "Even when we were training, you would go around with the others and sometimes drag me with you. Selling meat, items, and services like we were merchants."
"You're just mad because Cain uses your handsome face to help sell to the ladies and maidens," Vesemir noted with a chuckle.
Callum just sighed, but I could hear the embarrassment in it.
"At least I pay you for your services in food," I pointed out. "And you've been coming here for so long the ladies eye you like a piece of meat."
"That's not the point, Cain," Callum protested. "Even though it's nice sometimes when the ladies come to the stall with food, and even offer to feed me at their homes."
I looked back at him in the cart, raising an eyebrow. "I remember a time when Geralt and I had to stay in the village overnight because someone left with two girls who were the daughters of a fisherman. And you didn't come back until the next morning."
Callum said nothing. He just looked somewhat flustered, his pale cheeks taking on a slight pink tinge.
"I know you've also been avoiding them every time you come back here," I added.
Callum's voice was quiet. "Can we just drop it?"
I nodded, deciding to give him a break. "Yeah, we're here anyway."
As I said that, the cart stopped as we entered the center of the town where the market was. It was a bustling area with people moving all over, their voices creating a constant hum of activity. Some were bartering over prices, their voices rising and falling in the familiar rhythm of negotiation. Others were negotiating over exchanging goods, a farmer offering eggs for cloth, a carpenter trading furniture for grain.
The market square was roughly circular, with permanent stalls around the edges and temporary ones set up in the center. The smell was a complex mixture, fresh bread from the baker's stall, the metallic tang of the blacksmith's forge, the earthy scent of vegetables, the sharp smell of tanning leather, and underneath it all, the general smell of humanity packed together.
"Come on, let's get set up and get going," I said, hopping down from the wagon.
We began unloading our goods, setting up our temporary stall in a spot that had become our usual location over the years. Vesemir and Callum worked on assembling the wooden frame and canvas covering while I organized our merchandise.
The furs went on one side, wolf pelts, bear hides, deer leather, all carefully preserved and treated. The meats went in the center, wrapped in cloth and kept cool with a minor preservation spell I'd learned from my chronomancy skill. And on the far side, carefully separated, were the monster ingredients, drowner brains in sealed jars, nekker claws, endrega embryos, and various other components that alchemists and mages would pay good coin for.
As we worked, several merchants approached, their eyes lighting up with recognition.
"Good to see you Witchers again," said a grizzled merchant with a salt-and-pepper beard. "You always bring quality meats and furs whenever you come."
A woman in fine merchant's clothes nodded in agreement. "And since you only come a few times a year, it's hard to get such good quality otherwise. Is there anything new this year?"
I turned to look at her properly. She was raven-haired with a beautiful face, probably in her early twenties, with sharp, intelligent eyes that marked her as someone who knew the value of things. Her clothes were well-made but practical, expensive enough to show success, but not so ostentatious as to make her a target for thieves.
"I have wolves, bears, hares, deer," I told them, gesturing to our display. "From meats to furs. We've got a good selection this year."
I showed them the collection, and we immediately got plenty of eyes and interested buyers. People began gathering around our stall, examining the quality of our goods, asking questions about where they were hunted and how they were preserved.
Vesemir came up beside me, his voice low. "We're all set up at the butcher corner. Callum will be handling that."
I turned to my side to look, and there was already a line of mostly older women in their late twenties to forties, along with a few young men and children, waiting with coins in hand. Callum stood behind a separate table we'd set up, looking resigned to his fate as the "pretty face" of our operation.
A well-dressed man approached me, his clothes marking him as someone with money to spend.
"Excuse me, are you the Witcher in charge here?"
I nodded. "I am. How can I help you?"
"I'm a merchant from Oxenfurt," he said, his eyes scanning our goods with professional interest. "I heard you might have monster ingredients for sale?"
I gestured to Vesemir. "All sales are final, but yes, we have a selection. My colleague here can show you what we have available."
As Vesemir led the merchant to our monster ingredient section, I reflected on how this had all come together. Over the years, between the animal meats and furs we sold, I'd gotten the Witcher's to collect more monster ingredients from their hunts. It had taken some convincing, most Witcher's just took the trophy and left the rest to rot, but I'd shown them the potential profit.
Then I'd had them spread the word to the local towns nearest the keeps that we sold monster products. Which had gotten us alchemists and a few mages as buyers. It was a natural fit, Witcher's were already hunting monsters, why not profit from every part of the kill?
I like to thank my Luck and Charisma attributes that I'd been able to convince Vesemir to allow it and help with the distribution. Sometimes we didn't always have the luxury of getting coin, but alchemists and mages who were short on coin bartered with gems and jewelry.
At first, the others, especially Vesemir, didn't want to take them since they weren't craftsmen and couldn't tell the quality. But since I had the system, I could tell exactly how good everything was, whether a ruby was flawed or flawless, whether an enchantment was stable or degrading, whether a piece of jewelry was worth ten crowns or a hundred.
With that, we'd gained enough gems and jewels, some with magical properties. Nothing major, an attribute buff here or there, or an effect to make someone look more appealing, or one memorable ring that let the wearer "perform" all night, which had gotten a lot of laughs back at the keep.
As I returned to the present, the same raven-haired merchant woman approached me again, her eyes fixed on my collection of furs.
"These are exceptional quality," she said, running her hand over a particularly fine wolf pelt. "The preservation work is masterful. Where did you learn to treat them like this?"
"Trade secret," I replied with a slight smile. "But I can assure you they'll last for years with proper care."
She nodded, her merchant's mind clearly calculating. "I'd like to buy half of your fur coats. I can offer you 60% of market value, that's fair for bulk purchase."
I kept my expression neutral, but internally I was already running the numbers. Thanks to my Charisma attribute and what I remembered about being a merchant from the Spice & Wolf anime in my old life, I knew exactly how to handle this negotiation.
"60% is an insult to the quality you're looking at my good lady," I said calmly. "These aren't common furs from farm-raised animals. These are from wild game, hunted in dangerous territory, preserved with techniques that most tanners don't know. 85% at market value, and I'll throw in advice on how to care for them properly."
She laughed, a genuine sound. "You drive a hard bargain for someone so young. 70%, and that's my final offer."
"80%, and you take all of them, not just half," I countered. "Think about it, you won't find this quality again until we come back next season. And with all of them, you can supply multiple clients instead of having to split your inventory."
She studied me for a long moment, her sharp eyes trying to read me. I kept my expression pleasant but firm.
Finally, she smiled. "You know what? Deal. 80% of market value for all your furs. You're either very clever or very lucky."
"Both I believe," I replied with a slight grin.
As she counted out the coins, she shook her head in amusement. "I've never met a merchant as young as you and so talented, elven or human. And since you have such a charming face and way with words, I believe you should join the Guild of Merchants."
That caught my attention. I knew something like that existed in the Witcher world, but I knew nothing concrete about it. "What are the benefits and costs to joining the Guild of Merchants?"
She leaned in slightly, her voice taking on the tone of someone sharing valuable information. "It's also called the Trade Corporation. Members have political influence and gain immense reach, often operating on the same level as state rulers, nobility, and mages."
She pulled a chain from her cleavage, revealing a pendant at the end. The symbol was distinctive, a gold star surrounded by flames, all inscribed within a triangle. The craftsmanship was exquisite, and I could sense a faint magical aura from it.
"Meritorious members receive a secretive, highly-coveted mark of recognition," she continued, holding up the pendant. "This symbol opens doors that would otherwise remain closed. The guild handles exotic imports, lucrative trade routes, and protection, facilitating wealth even in war-torn regions. When you wear this, people know you're connected, that you have resources and backing."
I studied the symbol, my mind already racing with possibilities. "That's a hell of a sales pitch. But what does it cost to join the guild?"
Before she could answer, I heard a girlish scream from Callum's direction. My hand instinctively went to my Witcher steel sword on my back, my body tensing for combat.
When I looked over, I saw a cloaked woman, slim build, moving with the grace of someone trained in movement. My Witcher senses picked up her fragrance immediately: pine and vanilla, a distinctive combination. She'd jumped over Callum's butcher table and started hugging him enthusiastically.
The weird part was that he didn't resist or pull back, which I took to mean he knew her. Was it one of the girls he'd slept with?
Callum looked at the girl, and even from this distance, I could see the mix of surprise and genuine affection on his face. "Even after all this time, you're still energetic and simple-minded as ever."
Then he looked to me and Vesemir, his voice carrying across the market square. "Cain, Master Vesemir. This is my sister, Calla."
The girl took off her hood to reveal a very cute and radiant young woman. She had short red hair that stopped just past her neck, rosy cheeks, and supple lips. Her face was sharp and delicate, with bright emerald green eyes that sparkled with life and energy. She was beautiful, and like her brother, she had a bright smile on her face that I knew matched Callum's when he was truly happy.
I knew in that moment that she was definitely Callum's sister. The resemblance was unmistakable, the same red hair, the same green eyes, the same bone structure. Where Callum was handsome in a roguish way, Calla was beautiful in a way that would turn heads in any court.
The raven-haired merchant beside me sighed. "Calla, make sure your girls are watching the products while you're distracted."
Calla waved her hand dismissively. "That's not my job. Go tell Neary that bi..... I'm she's in the tavern."
The merchant woman's expression soured. "Of course that damn sorceress is in the tavern this early in the morning."
I looked at the merchant as she walked away, wondering what the story was behind that comment. A sorceress named Neary who apparently spent her time drinking in taverns? That was unusual. Most sorceresses I'd heard of were either attached to courts or conducting research in towers.
I turned back to Callum and his sister, seeing them talking animatedly, their hands moving as they caught up on years of separation. Nine years, if I remembered correctly, that's how long it had been since Callum had been taken to Kaer Morhen.
I mean it's a no brainer decision on what to do after that. "Callum, you want to go catch up with your sister? I can let Vesemir handle the butcher table, and I'll take over selling both the meats, furs, and monster ingredients."
Callum looked at me, shocked. "You'd really let me do that?"
"Yeah you don't like Merchant duty anyway, now go," I said, waving him off. "We're almost out of stuff to sell anyway."
I looked to Vesemir, who nodded his approval. Callum and his sister walked arm in arm from the stall. I could see the happiness on Callum's face, a genuine joy that I rarely saw from him these days.
Vesemir and I continued to sell our products through the afternoon. The sun moved across the sky, casting long shadows through the market square. The crowd ebbed and flowed, busy during midday, quieter in the early afternoon, then picking up again as people finished their work and came to shop for dinner.
I handled the negotiations with practiced ease, my Charisma attribute and merchant knowledge from my previous life making me far more effective than any Witcher had a right to be. I sold furs to tailors, meat to housewives and tavern keepers, and monster ingredients to a variety of alchemists and hedge mages who came specifically seeking our goods.
By the end of the day, as the sun began to set and merchants started packing up their stalls, I finished counting our earnings. The final tally made me smile.
4,500 crowns.
Vesemir patted me on the back, his weathered hand heavy with approval. "You should definitely think about being a merchant with your sense of business, boy. You've got a gift for it."
"Thank you," I said, dividing the coins into portions. I gave Vesemir his share to take back for the vault, leaving me with Callum's and my half for our journey which add up to 4,000 crowns between him and I. And Vesemire will take the remainder of 1,500 Crowns back to the castle. "I didn't think we'd sell everything at the first town."
"That's because you've built a reputation here," Vesemir said, helping me pack up the empty crates and folded canvas. "People trust you, trust the quality of what you bring. That's worth more than any sales pitch."
As we finished packing, I noticed several individuals walking toward me. My Witcher senses immediately picked up details, at least five women from their scent and the way they stepped. My medallion began to buzz against my chest, a subtle vibration that told me at least some of them were mages.
I smelled the scent of booze on one of them, strong enough that she'd clearly been drinking for a while. When I turned around, I saw several women who could be considered better looking than your average village or big city girl in this world.
But the one in the front was something else entirely. She had beautiful blonde hair that caught the fading sunlight, bright green eyes that seemed to glow with inner power, and an almost ethereal look to her. She carried herself with the confidence of someone who knew exactly how attractive she was and wasn't afraid to use it. The smell of alcohol was strongest on her, expensive wine, from the scent of it.
Then she spoke, her voice smooth and slightly slurred. "My, my. I heard there was a unique-looking elf who was selling his wares quickly, and the rumors were true about you being a Witcher too." Her eyes traveled up and down my body in a way that made her intentions clear. "They really weren't lying about you being handsome either."
"Thank you," I said carefully, my mind already trying to figure out who these women were and what they wanted. The magical aura around them was strong, these weren't hedge mages or simple alchemists. These were trained sorceresses, probably from one of the magical academies.
"I'm sorry, ladies, but I'm all out of wares to sell or trade," I said, gesturing to our empty stall.
The blonde woman laughed, a sound like bells that was probably enhanced by magic. "Oh, I didn't come here for that." She leaned on my wares table, her ample cleavage showing as she bent forward. "I'm bored, so why don't you keep me company I'm sure we can find something to entertain ourselves?"
The look on her face was unmistakably seductive, her green eyes half-lidded as she gazed at me.
That's when Vesemir patted my back, and I could hear the amusement in his voice. "Good luck, Cain."
And then he walked away, the bastard, leaving me alone with five sorceresses, one of whom was clearly drunk and hitting on me.
I sighed internally, my expression remaining neutral even as my mind raced through possible responses and escape routes. I didn't want to piss ff or get on the bad side of any sorceress. Especially since I don't know what she could be capable of.
"Fuck," I mumbled under my breath.
The blonde sorceress smiled widen slightly, clearly having heard me. "Oh, we can definitely arrange that."
The other four women behind her giggled, and I realized that this was going to be a very long evening.