"Come on, Karl! I've heard about your drinking ability over the past few days."
"Let me see if you are as capable in this as your combat skills, which make people look up to you!"
Then the banquet atmosphere revived, led by Eist.
.........
However, by the third night, things had changed a bit.
Except for Eist and his men – the famous Skellige warriors known for their heavy drinking, who were still enthusiastically challenging Karl to drinking contests,
even Geralt wisely chose a "truce," quietly enjoying the dwarven spirit and no longer trying to compete.
The reason was simple: on the first night of the banquet, Geralt tried an extremely brutal way of drinking.
The hallucinogenic White Gull potion was mixed with the already strong dwarven spirit.
After he himself drank a bottle of this mixed liquid, he immediately felt the world spin, his vision blur, and he began to stagger in circles.
Karl, sitting opposite, looked completely unruffled, no different from ordinary alcohol.
At first, Geralt thought Karl was just trying to stay calm, but his stubborn spirit was strong, so he forced himself to drink another two bottles.
As a result, faint bluish-black veins began to appear on his neck and face, indicating the potion's poisonous invasion.
Under the astonished gazes of everyone, he staggered a few steps, then decisively collapsed onto the carpet, unconscious.
But Karl, from beginning to end, didn't even change his expression, let alone show a sign of discomfort.
From that night on, Geralt completely gave up the idea of competing with Karl at the dinner table.
This was definitely not a competition on the same level; he wasn't going to make a "Witcher drunk" spectacle of himself again in front of everyone.
At this moment, the night grew deeper, and the fireplace in the center of the hall blazed with flame, dispelling the early autumn chill.
Karl, Triss, Geralt, Ciri, and others sat in chairs by the fireplace, enjoying ordinary post-party gatherings.
Each took turns recalling their past, encountering strange things, gaining knowledge, or demonstrating their unique skills.
Hen told of discovering fragmented elven writing in elven ruins.
Mousesack described a silver grass that only blooms under a certain moonlight and can calm enraged beasts.
Triss demonstrated a small spell that could briefly change the shape of a fireball.
Even Ciri mustered the courage to stumble through a strange legend about a talking cat at the Cintran court, though the truth was doubtful.
When it was Karl's turn, all eyes inevitably turned to him, full of expectation and curiosity.
With Karl's experience and strength, what amazing discoveries or secrets could he share?
Karl pressed his lips together and looked around at the assembled crowd. His desire to share was actually not strong.
But the atmosphere at this moment made him feel that perhaps he could say something.
He spoke slowly, his voice clear to all: "Among all present, there are several sorcerers or those closely connected to magical abilities."
His gaze lingered on Triss, Keira, Hen, and Mousesack.
"Since that's the case, let me tell you... some of my personal brief thoughts on magic."
As soon as it was said, Triss and Keira's eyes instantly lit up, and they both involuntarily leaned forward slightly.
Hen straightened his expression, and Mousesack stroked his long beard, his gaze focused.
Karl did not start the debate directly, but instead extended his right hand, palm facing up, and a pure golden light shone in his palm.
Then this light was like a living liquid, quickly stretching, deforming, and outlining...
In an instant, it transformed into a realistic golden butterfly with delicate wings and even visible fine patterns.
This butterfly was made entirely of condensed light, its wings slightly trembling in Karl's palm.
Then it gracefully soared upward, lightly looping and dancing among the crowd, scattering tiny golden particles of dust, almost invisible.
This was not an illusion, but a pure creation of energy, and the control contained within secretly disturbed Triss, Keira, and the others.
At the same time, Karl's voice continued: "In my view, the essence of sorcerers casting spells now is to guide their spirit and will."
"Using certain incantations, gestures, runes, and other media, we can invoke and manipulate the magical powers of the external world to achieve various effects."
"Incantations are keys, gestures are guides, and magic is the fuel and material."
He controlled the light butterfly and stopped it on Ciri's curious finger, making her gasp softly.
"And magical power flooded into our world in large quantities when the spheres converged."
"So, when did the first Conjunction of the Spheres occur? Before mana became the primary source of spells,"
"those elder races, like the elves, how did they wield power? Did they also rely on this later magic?"
When this question was asked, besides the understanding on Hen's face that he had already pondered similar questions, a deeper reflection appeared.
Triss and Keira, as young sorcerers, both looked puzzled.
The magical system they studied was built on the existence of magical power, never tracing its history back to its appearance.
It was too distant, too vague, almost like a myth or legend.
Karl looked at their expressions, smiled slightly, and gave an indication.
"This is one of the options I am going to discuss. Even without such magic, you can truly cast spells yourself."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over everyone, finally lingering on Mousesack.
"This is what I have personally seen with Freyja, or as you know her better, the goddess Melitele, and her priests."
"Karl, are you saying... the power of faith?!" Mousesack almost blurted out, his usually calm face showing shock, his eyes wide open.
As a druid, he understands natural beliefs better than sorcerers, and the forms of power contained in some rituals that do not entirely rely on magic.
Karl nodded slightly, confirming Mousesack's guess, but then added.
"Faith is indeed one path, but it relies more on the response and gifts of the gods."
"If the deities do not assist, believers often cannot cast spells either."
"And I, based on some observations and... deduction, believe a more fundamental approach may be closely related to three factors."
"Lineage, spirit, soul – lineage carries inherited talent, spirit is the bridge between will and perception, and the soul... is the root and destination of all this."
Hearing these three words, especially the soul, the tremor on Mousesack's face turned to shock, his mouth slightly open, unable to speak for a moment.
In the druidic records, the natural soul and spirit of all things are mentioned.
But research into the essence of the individual soul is equally rare and vague, let alone how to actively use the power of the soul.