Witcher: Master Kiliman’s Grand Ambitions-Chapter 1: Demon Hunter Kiliman

In an orchard on the outskirts of White Orchard, the damp air was thick with the scent of decay and earth. Kiliman's golden cat-like eyes gleamed faintly as he stared ahead, his keen witcher senses having long detected the enemy's location.
Growls suddenly came from all directions - a pack of ghouls was closing in. He took a deep breath, gripping the silver witcher sword tightly in both hands. The blade shimmered coldly in the moonlight, with several faintly glowing runes visible. He knew these monsters wouldn't give him much time.
The first ghoul lunged from the left with astonishing speed. Kiliman sidestepped, his blade drawing a perfect arc that cleanly severed its throat. Black blood sprayed as the ghoul let out a shrill shriek before collapsing, twitching for several seconds before going still.
Before he could catch his breath, the second and third ghouls attacked simultaneously from front and back, their foul stench assaulting his nostrils. Kiliman quickly retreated, sword tip pointing downward as he crouched slightly. Sensing the wind pressure behind him, he spun abruptly, his sword slicing horizontally to bisect one ghoul midair.
Amid the spray of blood and rotten flesh, he used the momentum to pivot, bringing the blade down on another ghoul's skull with such force that its eyeballs burst from the impact. In that split second, the fourth ghoul emerged from the shadows, claws aiming for his throat.
Unable to retract his sword in time, Kiliman smashed the pommel into its face, knocking it back. Then with both hands on the hilt, he executed an upward slash that split the ghoul open from groin to chest, spilling entrails and black blood across the ground.
The final ghoul seemed to sense danger and hesitated, but Kiliman gave it no chance to flee. He advanced swiftly, thrusting his blade precisely between ribs to pierce its heart. The ghoul uttered a low whimper before collapsing lifeless.
Standing amidst the carnage, Kiliman's handsome face was streaked with sweat, his silver sword coated in dark crimson filth yet remaining as sharp as ever. "Finally done. At least I didn't screw up," he muttered.
Shaking the blood from his blade, he sheathed it while surveying the five ghoul corpses. With his right hand, he formed a sign resembling Igni but different - the Soul Absorption Sign. Instantly, five faint multicolored lights emerged from the corpses and vanished into his forehead.
Simultaneously, an emotionless mechanical voice sounded in his ears:
"Absorbed one weak soul. Soul Power +1."
"Absorbed one weak soul. Soul Power +1."
...
"Total of 5 Soul Power obtained."
"Only five? Ghouls are on the same level as drowners? How stingy," Kiliman spat disdainfully. "Low-level monsters are truly trash. To get rich, I'll need to hunt more powerful creatures."
He mentally commanded: "Deep Blue, display my status panel."
With a "ding," a translucent screen appeared before his eyes:
Kiliman Germann
Race: Perfect Witcher
Strength: 2.82 (Max 4.00)
Agility: 2.54 (Max 4.00)
Spirit: 1.85 (Max 4.00)
Magic: 2.45 (Max 4.00)
Toxin Resistance: 15.52
(Normal adult human attributes range between 0.8-1.2.)
Swordsmanship: [Temerian Military Swordsmanship]: Expert level. +0.2 Strength, +0.2 Agility. Requires 200 Soul Power to advance to Master level.
Signs: None
Auxiliary Skills: Witcher Alchemy LV1, Monster Harvesting LV1.
Soul Sequence LV1: Mortal (Although you possess the most perfect witcher genes, your soul strength determines you're still just cannon fodder.)
(Advancing Soul Sequence effectively increases physical limits, magic capacity, spiritual power, and skill ceilings. Each advancement grants a new soul ability and upgrades existing ones.)
Soul Ascension Progress: 5/100
Soul Ability: Dimensional Storage LV1 (1 cubic meter space)
Soul Power: 90 points
Having spent over half a month in this witcher world, Kiliman was gradually adapting to this lawless medieval environment filled with brutish peasants, shameless nobles, and bloodthirsty monsters. If anything, his unrestrained, borderline anarchic personality thrived in this might-makes-right world.
The cheat system he named "Deep Blue" gave him the capital to dominate this foreign world - a perfectly crafted body with optimal witcher genes, the ability to strengthen himself by consuming Soul Power, and rapid mastery of combat skills. By continuously hunting monsters, absorbing their soul energy, tempering his spirit, and advancing his Soul Sequence, he could grow endlessly stronger, ascending the divine ladder to obtain everything he desired.
This thought flashed briefly through his mind before he focused on the task at hand. Drawing a harvesting knife from his belt, he approached the remaining ghoul corpses in the orchard to collect materials.
While ghoul oil was practically worthless - only useful for making oils against necrophages - any monster had a chance of containing mutagens. The stronger the creature, the higher the probability. Mutagens were valuable commodities, essential for crafting superior decoctions, alchemical items, magical artifacts, and experimental materials. Even selling them raw fetched better prices than stinking monster parts. He couldn't afford to overlook any potential resources.
"The beginning is always hardest," he mused. Having arrived in this world with nothing, lacking even basic witcher knowledge and skills he had to learn independently, every resource mattered. If he hadn't learned [Temerian Military Swordsmanship] from a Temerian deserter-turned-bandit, he might not even be able to handle a common drowner right now.
Currently, Kiliman's immediate goal was encountering another witcher to acquire their specialized skills and knowledge - his top priority. Other matters would have to wait until he possessed sufficient self-defense capabilities.
...
After half an hour of harvesting monster parts, Kiliman hauled the ghoul remains farther away for burning, preventing them from attracting more necrophages. Unfortunately, his luck remained mediocre - despite slaying nearly a hundred low-level monsters these past weeks, he'd yet to find a single mutagen. All his money had gone into witcher gear, forcing him to rely on contracts for survival.
Today's job was typical - helping a young widow eliminate monsters that suddenly appeared in her orchard. The reward was a meager twenty orens, barely enough for a week's travel expenses, or maybe two if stretched thin.
"Times are tough," Kiliman reflected. With tensions high between the Northern Kingdoms and the Nilfgaardian Empire to the south after two wars, Northern peasants were dirt poor. Even when monsters appeared nearby, they couldn't afford witchers' fees. When a paying client appeared, one had to treat them well.
Even in his previous life, Kiliman had strong professional ethics - take pride in one's work and honor commitments unless absolutely prevented. After burning the ghouls, he returned to the orchard and suddenly sniffed the air, his expression turning intrigued.
His enhanced senses detected several spots where rotting corpses were buried - likely why ghouls appeared here. But these creatures didn't bury their prey; they consumed them entirely, converting flesh to waste. This was clearly man-made, no simple monster contract. Ghouls didn't randomly infest orchards.
Understanding dawned. Kiliman marked the burial sites with his sword before sheathing it and heading toward the widow's home. "Seems I need to have a proper chat with that young widow," he mused. "Might not get more pay, but perhaps...something more pleasurable could happen." He chuckled darkly.