The weather cleared up and stayed sunny for many days, though it was steadily heading into late autumn now. The witchers had been heading due northwest for a week, closing in on Pontar. They would, according to plan, come to La Valette’s turf on the east of Velen, then they would take a boat to cross Pontar and head to Oxenfurt on the north coast. That journey alone would take a week to finish.
Carl was finally getting used to surviving in the wilds after one week. He spent all his time camping out and filling his stomach with nothing but wild greens and grilled meat. He was also feeling a lot better after he healed up from that disease. The boy was also starting to put on some weight as well.
Still, he was just about seven years old. The boy had not matured yet, and a strict training regime did not suit him. Felix only taught him some simple Cat School body training movements. Sometimes he would also tell him all the habits and weaknesses of beasts that roamed the wilds.
Auckes and Serrit had complaints about this training style, but Felix stuck to his guns when it came to this. He refused anyone from taking the fun away from training his own apprentice, so he ignored their comments. They even got in a fight with him because of that.
Roy had also asked Felix to teach him more about swordsmanship over the last week. Cat School’s swordsmanship leaned more toward practicality, and they were a lot sharper than any other styles Roy had seen. Felix managed to attack his vitals in under a minute, and he lost without even knowing how. Still, the incredible efficiency made Roy improve at a blistering pace. He had a feeling Sword Mastery would level up soon.
***
The witchers finally arrived at Velen’s borders, and they set up camp in the center of some oddly-shaped boulders.
“Can I play with Gryphon, Roy?” Carl came over and stared at Roy. He fell in love with Gryphon after he saw it by chance. Every young child loved cute things, and he was no exception to that.
Roy held his forehead, though he was amused as well. Gryphon loved hounding him for snacks, but it was acting weirdly after Carl kept trying to play with it. The griffin even lost its appetite for dried fish, and that was its favorite. “How many times must I tell you this, kid? Gryphon is not your toy. You can’t keep trying to play with it. And don’t look at me like that. It’s normal if you’re a girl, but not when you’re a boy. You’d be in trouble if you ran into some boy-loving aristocrats.”
Carl started tearing up, and his lips puckered.
“You can’t cry yourself out of monsters or bandits, kid. You know what? Forget it.” The boy had just lost all his family. He needed some sort of companion. Roy dragged the orange tabby out of his hood, despite how much it was meowing at him.
“Hi, Gryphon.” Carl held the cat, but it was struggling to break free. He caressed its back, looking delighted. “Master and I got some buckthorn today. Wanna have some?”
“Don’t feed it anything stupid, kid. I’ll spank you if anything happens to Gryphon.”
***
“Carl? What’s he doing at this hour?” Roy tucked Gryphon into his hood and slowly closed in on Carl with Felix.
The other Viper School witchers had already woken up. They were also observing Carl. They came to the boy, but the look on his face was deader than the cemetery. He was staring into the night outside the campsite, as if the witchers did not exist.
He’s sleepwalking. The witchers exchanged looks and kept silent. There were a lot of rumors going on about sleepwalkers. One of them was no one should ever wake a sleepwalker up by force, or they might leave undesired complications. None of them moved, but all of a sudden, Carl did.
He darted into the night, and the witchers followed. Much to their surprise, it felt like the boy was on steroids. He ran for an hour, as if he were a moose. They chased after him for more than ten miles. The moon and stars eventually faded away, and the sky started greying. They kept running until they came to the borders of a swamp.
It was covered in a blanket of fog, and the patches of swamp hid underneath the shallow puddles. The boy stopped in front of a stump. A bloody dagger was buried in it. Carl pulled it out and slowly raised it to his ear. He was snarling, looking like he knew what he was doing.
“Damn it!” Felix darted ahead and swung his sword at the dagger, smacking it away from Carl’s hand. He shook the boy violently, as if trying to tear him apart. “What happened, you monkey? Did something possess you?”
“Master, I… I…” Carl’s pupils contracted for a moment, and confusion surfaced on his face, as if he just woke up from a dream. “I can’t remember what happened…”
“You were trying to cut your ear off, kid,” Auckes said. “I’ve never seen any sleepwalker do something this stupid.
“They would have all died if they did what Carl did,” Serrit said.
Roy stared at the swamp and said solemnly, “Guys, that was obviously not sleepwalking. Something in this swamp guided him here. Think about it. He’s just a boy, and his will is the weakest among us. Some infernal monsters could have mesmerized him easily.”
Everyone fell into silence. Nobody expected this accident to happen. They had no idea what was happening either. This would have ended disastrously had the witchers not kept their guard up even during their sleep.
Letho had been checking the stump. “Roy’s right.” He raised his right hand and held up a bloody ear between his fingers. “This dagger and what Carl did was no coincidence, nor was it a case of sleepwalking.” His eyes glinted coldly. “Something’s behind this.”
***
***