The Witcher: Grinding Experience Starting as a Wolf School Witcher

Chapter 118 The Banquet

Chapter 118 The Banquet

Wow!

The group looked around and saw that the walls were decorated with various monster specimens.

"The plague is above," Paul nudged Alwin's arm with his elbow.

"Look, that's the head of a fork-tailed dragon!"

Alwin followed the gaze and saw that even though the ferocious wyvern was dead, it still exuded a terrifying aura.

"Griffins! There are griffins!"

"Look at these claws, they're really sharp." Horton took off his boxing gloves and touched the dark, gleaming claw tips with his fingertips, exclaiming in surprise.

Eskar walked around the room, stopping occasionally, when he was suddenly drawn to a portrait.

The painting depicts a nude portrait of a woman, except that she has ram horns and legs, a voluptuous figure, and an alluring appearance.

Succubus.

His cat-like eyes narrowed, as if he had opened the door to a new world, and he stood there watching for a long while.

The young witcher was making a ruckus, and Holt squinted, a look of nostalgia on his face.

The winter feasts of Kaer Mohen back then were just as lively.

Vesemir was already used to seeing these monster specimens.

In terms of sheer wealth, he certainly can't compare to Kayle Mohan.

Besides, we recently added another new item.

The head of the Cyclops' old spearhead.

Alwin strolled around for a while, then walked to the long wooden table, pulled out a wooden chair, and sat down, leaning lazily against the plush backrest.

My tired body finally got some rest.

During his few days in the capital, as a baron appointed by the king, countless nobles came to him, extending olive branches.

There was a banquet every night, which was attended by viscounts, marquesses, the younger generation of nobles, and even members of the royal family and Prince Hensey.

In short, Arwen, who didn't like to talk much, was overwhelmed with people.

However, the benefits of building a network of connections are also terrifying.

At least within Cordwin, anyone who sees him must address him politely as Baron Arwin.

Geralt sat down beside him and nodded, everything understood without a word.

Alwin sat in a chair and rested for a while.

The door to the reception room was pushed open, and Jonathan walked in first.

Holt gestured to him.

Jonathan announced in a loud voice, "Gentlemen, dinner is ready! We have veal shank stew with vegetables, rolled chops, fried pork, mushrooms and beans, hazelnut chicken—"

"The drinks include chilled Vijma Champion beer, dwarf mead, whiskey, and Toussaint red wine."

"Oh, I see some gentlemen who are quite young, but some of them can't drink alcohol. We have freshly squeezed apple juice."

Upon hearing the long list of dishes, Winston jumped up excitedly.

"My God, this is too lavish."

Horton said, "My dear butler, we are not children."

"Yes, we don't need juice here," Paul chimed in.

Vesemir coughed, signaling them to tone it down, and shook his head with a smile.

Jonathan bowed slightly and said in a gentle tone, "It is an honor for my team to have the gentlemen's approval."

Having said that, he turned to the side, and the servants came in carrying silver platters and food.

The rich aroma of meat combined with the flavor of spices instantly ignited everyone's appetite.

Alwin sat up straight, his fingers trembling as he looked at the delicious food laid out on the table.

At aristocratic banquets, people barely eat anything; it's mostly just perfunctory conversation and small talk.

He had long been fed up with those rules and regulations.

As the saying goes, no matter how good a golden house or a silver house is, there's never a doghouse that's more comfortable than your own.

Today I can finally let loose and relax a bit.

Holt fetched the whiskey, poured a full glass and placed it in front of Vesemir, then poured himself a full glass and said loudly.

"Witchers, may you enjoy good health! Cheers!"

"Wishing you good health, cheers!"

Vesemir, not wanting to spoil the fun, rose with everyone, raised his glass, and drank it all in one gulp.

Everyone got up and walked around the long table, enjoying the food, their eyes shining brightly.

Alwin took a bite of the eggplant; the food was simple, but the taste was incredibly delicious.

As time went by, and the alcohol took effect, the group began to engage in lively conversation.

Paul and Horton put their arms around Alwin's shoulders, complaining that Alwin had left without saying goodbye when he was in Kaer Morhen.

Winston put down his knife and fork and started tearing the matsutake chicken off the silver plate with his hands, eating with his mouth full of oil.

Aiken also talked about the Cyclops Spearhead, and the danger of that day still makes everyone shudder when they hear about it.

Aiskar chimed in with a few jokes, saying that when they found Arwen, they were with the trolls on the path to the Elemental Ring.

He even imitated the trolls, trembling all over and speaking in a shaky voice.

"Witcher—get out of here—"

Everyone burst into laughter, and Geralt and Holt, upon hearing this, both looked at Vesemir.

Upon seeing the latter nod, extreme shock appeared on their faces.

The Cyclops Spearhead, the most dangerous member of the Mountain Trials, accompanied the Wolf School Witcher throughout his life, killing countless apprentices, before finally dying at the hands of Arwen.

The atmosphere gradually became more lively, and everyone drank heartily and talked more and more.

The manager, Jonathan, had been waiting by his side the whole time.

Upon overhearing that the young, black-haired witcher before him was none other than the current King, Baron Cordwin, bestowed the title by the Radiant Miodrag, he stiffened.

Beyond their inner shock, they became even more respectful and cautious.

Vesemir and Holt, the two last surviving elders of the Wolf School, were urged by Paul and his companions to drink, and their pale cheeks flushed with alcohol.

It's unclear who first spoke of the bitterness and grievances of nearly forty years, but the two of them started talking back and forth, and it was impossible to stop them.

Finally, the two stood up, slammed their fists on the table, pointed at each other's noses and cursed loudly, even rolling up their sleeves in preparation for a fight.

Fortunately, with the intervention of others, the two only exchanged a few punches and did not get into a major argument.

Finally, Vesemir produced an ancient wolf head badge and handed it to Holt.

Holt froze, staring at the old thing in his hand, his body swaying slightly, his fingers constantly rubbing the sharp edges.

This is the wolf head badge he threw away in a fit of pique back then.

"Vesemir, you still keep it? I thought you threw it away a long time ago."

Vesemir lowered his gaze slightly. "Holt, we were both angry at the time, and it was my fault. Kael Morhen welcomes you back anytime."

Upon hearing this, Holt, fueled by alcohol, was overcome by a surge of emotion that broke through the constraints of the sudden change.

A bear hugged Vesemir and burst into tears.

The young witchers present laughed without a care in the world.

Seeing that the two had completely reconciled, Arwen and Geralt exchanged a smile and continued to eat meat and drink wine heartily.

Although Alwin did not know what the golden age of the Wolf School was like.

But he firmly believed that such a day would come soon, and would be far better than ever before.