The Witcher: Grinding Experience Starting as a Wolf School Witcher

Chapter 51 Anatomy

Baihe Territory Dungeon

The environment was dark and damp, with torches burning continuously, accompanied by the squeaking of rats and the painful groans of those in the cages.

Arwen looked over and saw three naked figures huddled together in a cell not far away.

There were two men and one woman, the woman being short and thin, and looking only eleven or twelve years old.

They were covered in mud, and the air smelled of rotting garbage from the sewers.

Beneath her tangled long hair were a pair of pointed ears, unlike any human's.

Elf.

"Mr. Witcher, over here."

Martin's voice came through.

The elves noticed Arwen and looked up, their emerald eyes revealing numbness and hatred.

Alwin withdrew his gaze and followed Martin into the room around the corner.

The room was not very large; apart from the central aisle, there were five wooden beds on each side.

The bed was covered with a black oilcloth, and from its bulging shape, it was clear that a human corpse was underneath.

Martin walked to the frontmost sheet, lifted the tarpaulin, glanced at it, then stepped back a few paces and gagged a few times.

A strong, pungent smell of blood filled the air.

Alwin stepped forward, his eyes lowered.

The corpse's face was slashed open with a sharp weapon, and the skin and flesh were rolled outwards, making it impossible to recognize its original appearance.

The image of Vesemir's anatomy class came to mind.

"Before we begin the autopsy, we must gather as much information as possible, which will help us understand the traces left on the body."

It would be best to know who the deceased was and under what circumstances the body was discovered.

"Mr. Martin, what is the name of this corpse? What is its identity?"

The sergeant fanned his nose with his hand.

"Finn, his father was the stonemason in the territory, we all called him Little Stone."

Alwin glanced at the coarse linen clothes on the corpse; besides the bloodstains, there were indeed large patches of stone dust.

He reached out and slightly lifted the corpse's chin, revealing its pale Adam's apple.

It's definitely a male.

"When was it discovered? Where was it found?"

My gaze shifted downwards, and a bloody gash stretched from his chest to his navel, leaving his stomach flat.

Martin said, "This morning, in the woods to the west of the territory."

"That monster would leave the corpse there after each kill."

"every time?"

"Yes, the body is either at the scene or right there."

Alwin had a guess in his mind: the monster's lair was very likely nearby.

Vesemir's words resurfaced.

"Next, we'll examine the wounds to deduce the weapon used by the murderer."

"Dissecting a corpse is like opening a book; as long as you carefully examine every detail and meticulously test every hypothesis, you will gain something."

Alwin tore off the clothes on the corpse, examined it closely, and muttered to himself.

"Based on the degree of blood clotting, the time of death was indeed last night."

"The body had multiple wounds, marks from being cut by sharp claws."

"They're not ghouls; they're not picky eaters."

"The wound is clean..." Alwin pressed his palm against the corpse's chest cavity, feeling a slight collapse. "Two ribs are broken, one of which is piercing the heart. This should be the first fatal wound. Its strength is moderate."

Moving the gaze downwards, a piece of flesh was also torn open on the inside of the corpse's thigh.

"It's a bite mark, with sharp teeth."

Martin, listening to Alvin's whispers and professional techniques, and looking at the latter's young face, had a moment of daze before revealing admiration.

"Um?"

Alwin let out a startled exclamation, raising the corpse's right hand, its stiff muscles clenched tightly.

He pried open his five fingers, and a strand of grayish-white hair stained with blood fell out.

Seeing this, Martin couldn't help but ask, "Is it from that monster?"

Arwen picked up the strand of hair, and the wolf head badge on his chest vibrated slightly.

There are traces of magic.

I held it in front of my nose and fanned the smell with my hand.

Thanks to its enhanced sense of smell after the mutation, it could detect not only the smell of blood but also the unique stench of animals.

Nocturnal activity, incredible speed, sharp claws and teeth, grayish-white fur—connecting all these elements, the answer is already obvious.

……

The castle council chamber.

Baron Shirakawa was dressed in armor, his expression solemn.

"You mean, the monster in the territory is a werewolf?"

Alwin opened his palm. "According to the information on the corpse, that's indeed the case."

Baron Shirakawa paced back and forth, the occasional sound of armor rubbing together echoing through the air.

He walked to the window, gazing at the sky. "It's September 27th now, five hours until dark."

He turned his head to the side, his tone firm.

"I can no longer accept the death of any of my people."

"Mr. Raven, the Witcher, I beg you to accept this witch-hunting commission."

Arwen looked at him, unmoved by Baron White River's sincere words.

Vesemir had warned him.

Don't be fooled by the sweet talk of the nobility; hypocrisy is their true nature.

Alwin's tone was flat.

"This monster is a werewolf, a high-level cursed creature. The Baron must have heard of its formidable reputation. It will be very troublesome to deal with."

Baron Shirakawa said, "800 ducats, no, 1000 ducats!"

"That's 142 kroner, which is quite a fortune."

After careful consideration, Alwin realized that 142 crowns, at market price, would be enough to buy a decent shop in a big city for a year.

Furthermore, based on the information gathered from the corpse, the werewolf only broke two of Finn's ribs, and its grayish-white fur was very new, so the curse should not have lasted long.

The most important thing is to obtain werewolf mutants; if we miss this opportunity, we don't know how long we'll have to wait.

Why not observe from afar first, and if you can't win, just run away and change your identity?

The baron himself is in dire need of protection; how could he possibly send troops to capture him?

Alwin made up his mind, but pretended to be troubled on his face.

"Baron, it's not that I'm unwilling, but dealing with werewolves is too dangerous, and I need to use an expensive potion..."

At this point, Alwin deliberately drew out his words.

Baron Shirakawa naturally understood the implication: the black-haired witcher in front of him wasn't incapable of taking action, but rather required additional payment.

"1500 Ducate!"

"Sigh... but it's getting close to nightfall, and I need to prepare a lot of things, like aconite..."

Baron Shirakawa slammed his fist on the table, his pupils filled with a strong warning.

"Witcher, I can give you the item, but I want the result I desire."

"This beast must be killed tonight, do you understand?"

Arwen swallowed the words that were about to come out and bowed.

"Since you are so generous, Baron, I am happy to serve you."

Baron Shirakawa straightened up, rubbed his wrists, and said loudly:

"housekeeper!"

The doors to the council chamber opened, and the butler walked in with a solemn expression.

"Sir, what are your orders?"

"Take this Mr. Raven to the guest room, prepare dinner, and fulfill his request."

"And my horse's weapons."

"Give it back to him as well."