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On the evening of the second day after the mutation began, Clay finally ceased the output of magic that had been stabilizing the body.
The mutation process had been incredibly dangerous and had lasted for more than a full day, which was twice as long as the time it had taken Clay to undergo the same transformation. The pain and suffering endured throughout were just as intense as what he had experienced himself.
Christen had gone through violent convulsions, vomiting blood, incoherent screaming, and episodes of sheer madness. But eventually, all the chaos subsided, and his body grew quiet.
Clay, whose magic had been flowing continuously through Christen's body, could at last witness the end of the ordeal.
Though the magical output itself remained within tolerable limits, the toll it had taken on Clay's mind and body was real and exhausting. His stamina and mental energy were both thoroughly depleted.
When he finally withdrew the stabilizing spell, Clay collapsed to the ground, utterly drained. It took him a long moment to drag himself back into a chair, where he sat slumped, gasping heavily for breath.
"Damn it, that was exhausting!" That single thought summed up everything Clay was feeling at that moment.
As the hours passed and no sound came from within, the old lord of the house gradually grew concerned. Standing at the door, he called out for news. It was only after Clay calmly reassured him that all was well that the old man, still reluctant, finally turned and walked away.
He understood all too well that he could offer no meaningful assistance. The kind of magical power Clay wielded was far beyond anything he could comprehend. In his eyes, it was nothing short of stealing divine authority, something that granted godlike power to mere mortals. How could something like that possibly be easy or safe?
While waiting for Christen's body to fully recover and for him to regain consciousness, Clay was met with an unexpected delight.
His Witcher System, triggered by his successful creation of the second Witcher in all of Westeros, had leveled up once again.
With a mere thought, the interface of the system appeared before his eyes, projected onto his retina.
◇◆────────────────◆◇
Witcher System (Level 3)
Potions (expand)
Bombs (expand)
Equipment (expand)
Mana Pool: 110
Unlocked Signs: Quen (Level 1), Yrden (Level 1), Aard (Level 1), Igni (Level 1), Axii (Level 1)
Items (expand)
Retainers: Christen Manderly (Mutations: 1)
◇◆────────────────◆◇
At first glance, the most noticeable change was the addition of a new section called Retainers.
Clay opened the entry for Christen Manderly and was immediately taken aback.
The system presented a detailed breakdown of Christen's physical attributes, covering everything from muscle density to even more personal measurements… ahem.
But those details were not what truly astonished him.
When he selected Christen's name, Clay realized he could sense the man's location. It was not through any visual indicator but through an intangible, instinctive awareness.
Moreover, he could faintly perceive Christen's general thoughts. Should the man ever harbor ill intentions toward him, Clay would be alerted immediately.
And most impressively, the system allowed Clay to project his own will into the subconscious of any selected retainer, transforming those thoughts into seemingly natural inclinations in the retainer's mind.
In summary, the entire feature reminded Clay of a certain well-known device from a real-time strategy game, something like a Psychic Amplifier. Although the mechanisms were different, the effects were strikingly similar.
If he were to choose a more fitting metaphor, Clay felt like a progenitor vampire. The Witchers he created were akin to blood-bound offspring, his very own bloodline.
This new Retainer feature offered an elegant solution to a long-standing concern. Being from a minor branch of the Manderly family, Christen and others like him had uncertain loyalties. But now, with this system in place, the possibility of betrayal was almost entirely eliminated.
When Clay first envisioned building a Witcher army, the fear of betrayal had always lurked in his mind. After all, in the treacherous world of A Song of Ice and Fire, it was practically a rite of passage for any noble to experience betrayal at least once.
But with this system, as long as he kept track of the number of retainers and didn't overlook anyone, betrayal was all but impossible.
The mechanism was simple. Clay served as the sole broadcaster, while his retainers acted as passive receivers. The potential applications were vast and full of promise.
Beyond that, the system had unlocked enhancements related to alchemy, particularly in the field of decoctions and herbal infusions. Clay had yet to explore the details, but the implications were undeniably exciting.
In the world of the Witchers, different schools had distinct mutation formulas, resulting in Witchers with widely varying strengths and weaknesses.
The School of the Cat, for example, excelled in speed and assassination techniques but had limited command over magical signs. The School of the Griffin, conversely, was proficient in sign usage but fell short in other areas.
This diversity offered a rich array of possibilities. Different types of Witchers would be suited to different battlefields and roles. Clay was eager to experiment with these variations in the future.
Advanced versions of standard potions, such as Blizzard, also became available for development. But with so many matters vying for his attention, Clay had no time to begin concocting those just yet.
…
At last, Christen awoke.
Ignoring the filth and grime that clung to the young man's body, Clay smiled and welcomed him to his new life.
He reached down and helped him up from the floor, then asked with curiosity:
"How do you feel? Compared to before, do you notice any obvious changes in your body?"
Christen sat down heavily on a chair, his face still filled with confusion and awe. He pondered the question for a long moment, carefully sensing the changes within himself, then finally spoke in a low voice:
"My lord, I feel… a power inside me. But I don't know how to use it."
Clay understood at once. What Christen sensed was the emergence of mana within his body. Clay himself had long since learned to wield it through Signs, but Christen had no such knowledge.
"That's normal," Clay reassured him. "A true Valyrian warrior must endure trials like the one you just faced, but there's still much to learn. For example…"
He snapped his fingers, and a snuffed-out candle on the table burst into flame.
Christen's eyes widened in disbelief. He had been watching closely and was certain that Clay had used no flint, no matches, nothing at all.
"This," Clay said with a smile, "is one way to channel the power inside you. Now, stretch out your left hand and form this gesture."
He demonstrated the sign for Igni by curling his index finger to meet the upright middle finger, while the other three fingers extended outward and slightly apart.
Christen struggled for some time before finally getting the hand shape right. Clay gently adjusted his fingers and explained:
"Now, reach for the power within. Focus all your attention. Release it!"
From Clay's perspective, mana had gathered in Christen's left hand, but the novice had no idea how to release it.
Finally, a tiny spark leapt from his palm.
Startled, Christen instinctively pulled his hand back, shocked by what he had just done. Unlike Clay, he had no mental preparation for the use of magical signs.
"Good. Again. Just like that. Stay focused."
Clay encouraged him patiently. Mastering a sign required repeated failures—true power never came easily.
With gritted teeth, Christen tried again. He formed the Igni sign once more and focused intensely on his hand.
After countless failed attempts, a jet of flame finally erupted from his palm, spreading across the floor. Fortunately, there was nothing flammable nearby, so the fire quickly dwindled to flickering sparks and glowing embers.
Staring at his hand in disbelief, Christen stumbled back from the chair, unable to comprehend what he had just done.
Clay reached out to steady him.
"My lord… this… what is this?" Christen stammered, his voice trembling. The sensation of such unnatural power flowing from his own hand overwhelmed him with a mixture of awe and fear.
Clay smiled gently and replied in a soft voice:
"That, Christen… is a Sign. Igni."
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[Original Author's Commentary]
Regarding the loyalty issue—I hadn't originally planned to tie it into the system. Honestly, it's a bit of a narrative shortcut. But I figured that if the Witchers the protagonist creates ended up betraying him later, it would be incredibly frustrating for readers. So this was my compromise.
And for those wondering—yes, Ned's downfall in King's Landing is approaching. Don't worry, that moment you've all been waiting for is almost here.
As for the pacing, I understand that this story unfolds differently from many other fanfics, which tend to jump straight into the main plot. This one has spent more time building up the world and establishing a foundation. In a Game of Thrones fanfic, most of the iconic characters are already taken. When introducing an original character into Westeros, it's important to establish a proper place for him in the world.
If the protagonist had just created a Witcher with the snap of his fingers, gathered an army within a few chapters, and stormed across Westeros to claim the Iron Throne, the story would've wrapped up in under two hundred thousand words—if I were being serious about it.
In the end, I'm just one writer using my imagination to build a new narrative. I know I can't match the collective wit of my readers, and some missteps in logic are inevitable. But I hope you'll understand and continue enjoying the journey.
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[Chapter End's]
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