The Witcher: Astartes Of The Bear School

Chapter 73: Help You Go Home

Lan had completed his physical recovery in the morning and arrived at the alchemy classroom by noon.

By dinnertime, Arya returned to the alchemy classroom door. In her hands were two smoked fish sandwiches, pan-fried ham, baked apples, and a bowl of oyster chowder.

A full, hearty plate.

This was actually enough for both her and Lan, as she found it a bit troublesome to go eat after delivering Lan's meal.

Walking through the corridors of Aretuza Academy, Arya couldn't help but look around curiously.

Although her previous home wasn't the kind of place that lacked lighting at night, it still couldn't compare to a magical academy.

The candles in Aretuza Academy were numerous and bright, making the environment so well-lit that it didn't even seem like candlelight.

This was a small improvement made by sorceresses who had discovered the principles of light reflection—using magic.

It was said that the sorceress who improved the lighting even had her portrait hung on the academy wall for her contribution.

Arya knocked on the alchemy classroom door and walked in.

Lan had instructed her that there wouldn't be any major alchemical experiments today, so she could just knock and enter—nothing would be disturbed.

"My lord, I've brought your dinner."

Arya was carrying a large tray, so she couldn't peek through the glass window on the door as she usually did.

Thus, it wasn't until she entered that she saw Lan sitting on a chair in the classroom, rubbing his face with both hands, looking utterly exhausted.

The classroom was nothing like the "no mess" he had promised when he told her to rest at noon.

The mortar was filled with various herbs ground into paste, the distillation flask contained a half-bottle of liquid with an indescribable color, and dried herb fragments were scattered all over the table...

"I'm such a fool... I only knew that learning a single potion would take ten hours, but I didn't know how those ten hours would be arranged. I'm such a fool."

This muttered self-reproach left Arya a bit confused. She tentatively called out again.

"My lord?"

"Hmm?" Lan lowered his hands from his face and looked up. The black veins on his face and the faint dark circles around his eyes made Arya gasp softly.

"Ah! My lord! What's wrong with you—"

Lan was momentarily stunned, then quickly realized.

"Oh, don't worry. This is just what happens when we witchers take too many potions."

As he spoke, he grabbed a beaker from the table beside him, lifted it, and drank the milky liquid inside. Then, within a few breaths, the black veins and dark circles faded.

[Slightly Detoxifying Vitamin-Rich Alcoholic Beverage].

That's what Mentos called Lan's subpar version of [White Honey].

Today's practice schedule had gone awry in many places—after all, it was the first time.

Lan hadn't expected that identifying the potency of herbs with just his enhanced senses wouldn't be enough.

To make high-grade potions, you still had to recognize the herbs even after they were ground up, right? And after they were distilled, you still had to recognize them, right? In these situations, you still needed experience in estimating potency, right?

So, what else was there to do? Taste them!

And so, a large bag of roughly processed herbs was turned into various forms by Lan. Each one had to be smelled, tasted, and its potency assessed to build experience.

Yet, the proficiency in [Alchemy] had skyrocketed and was now at 44%.

When it came to herbs like honeysuckle and black reed petals, Lan could now tell at a glance whether they were of good quality and potency. With the alchemical formulas, he could make adjustments as needed and even produce some simple results.

But the cost was—even with a witcher's resistance to toxins, tasting through a large bag of herbs had started to take its toll.

Reluctantly, to maintain this highly effective learning method, Lan changed his primary focus from [Swallow] to [White Honey].

It was like tasting a hundred herbs while chugging a simple antidote.

Thankfully, all of Lan's expenses were now covered by the 1500 orens, or else he wouldn't have dared to waste resources like this. Roughly processed herbs weren't cheap.

Without this money, Lan's progress in improving his [Alchemy] proficiency would have been painfully slow.

He would have had to scrape together small amounts of money to buy herbs and equipment, then make potions, fail, save up, and start over—a vicious cycle.

For a witcher who might not even get a few contracts a month, it could have taken half a year just to learn how to make one type of potion.

Work and study were two extremely time-consuming endeavors, especially when combined.

Fortunately, someone was now footing the bill for his learning costs.

"Don't worry, Arya. Let's eat first. Today, I'll help you clean the classroom." Lan rubbed his forehead as he spoke.

He had promised the classroom wouldn't get too dirty and told her to rest, only to make a mess like this shortly after. Even though she was now his squire, Lan still felt quite embarrassed.

The two cleared a relatively clean spot on the table and sat down to eat together.

The witcher glanced at Arya, who showed no signs of discomfort, and narrowed his eyes slightly.

This little girl knew many knightly manners and the duties and rules of a squire. Although some of them differed from those in the Northern Kingdoms, the ceremonial nature of them didn't seem fake. At most, they were variations due to differences in national customs.

At their core, they followed a set of noble rules.

But at the same time, a squire who knew the rules was now naturally eating at the same table as the person she served, without any awkwardness.

She was familiar with noble rules but could subconsciously ignore the class differences within those rules. In other words, within this system of rules, she was rarely in a low or disadvantaged position.

The child of a top noble family?

While eating his smoked fish sandwich, Lan struck up a conversation with Arya.

"Tell me more about your homeland, Arya."

"Huh?" The little girl, her cheeks stuffed with food, immediately became as alert as a squirrel, looking at Lan.

"I don't want to go back!"

The witcher smiled knowingly. She wasn't resisting going home out of fear or terror—at least, not entirely. It was more because the outside world was fun, and she didn't want to return. This indicated that her family environment was actually quite good.

"I haven't asked how old you are, Arya." Lan ate without looking up as he asked.

The girl continued eating without answering, but Lan seemed unfazed.

"Judging by your frame, nine? Ten?... Oh, so you're ten. Definitely the age for mischief." The little girl's reaction gave him the answer, and Lan nodded before continuing.

"You might not realize how dangerous the world is for a ten-year-old girl, Arya. After all, not long after you were captured by slavers, I crushed them. You probably didn't even see how they treated their captives, did you?"

"So, the slaver camp felt exciting to you. Maybe you were a little scared when you jumped off the boat, but only for a moment."

"According to you, it's been four or five days since you left your family. In those four or five days, you've seen a witcher, magic, and alchemy. The world seems new and exciting, while home feels dull and boring. But Arya..."

Lan tilted his head toward the girl sitting beside him.

"In these four or five nights, haven't you felt the fear of being alone and the longing for your family?"

The little girl's chewing gradually slowed, and she slowly put down the food in her hands. She didn't argue back anymore.

"So, let's pause the knightly role-playing for a bit. Give me some information, Arya."

The witcher snapped his fingers in front of the little girl, startling her. Lan laughed heartily.

"I want to try to help you get home."