Witcher: The Half Elf

Wayne's praise brought a rare smile to Sile's usually reserved demeanor.

Among the fallen sorcerers, Sile's situation was particularly unfortunate. Once a highly respected scholar and one of the most skilled sorceresses in the North, Sile had distanced herself from the political intrigues of the Supreme Council years ago. She chose instead to dedicate her life to academic pursuits and research, earning a reputation as a truly pure practitioner of magic.

Her foray into the mist with Yennefer had not been for personal gain but rather to study the otherworldly creatures that emerged. However, her intellectual curiosity had led to calamity. Only days after entering the mist, she, Yennefer, and several other sorcerers were captured by the forces of the Demon King Baal. Kaduin, another powerful sorcerer, had fallen fully under Baal's corrupting influence.

Were it not for Wayne's timely arrival and the destruction of Baal's clone, Sile and the others might have become irrevocably twisted into monstrous shells of themselves. For her, agreeing to Wayne's thirty-year loyalty contract was not a difficult choice—it was an act of gratitude. Thirty years was a mere fraction of her long lifespan, a small price to pay for her salvation.

Most of the other fallen sorcerers had similar reasoning. They accepted their roles in Wayne's secret laboratory without resistance, recognizing that their allegiance was a temporary sentence compared to the eternal damnation they had narrowly escaped.

Sile, however, proved herself to be invaluable. Her passion for research and her refusal to indulge in worldly distractions set her apart. In contrast, sorceresses like Sabrina and Fringilla, who had once held esteemed positions as royal advisors, had little interest in a life confined to an anonymous laboratory. They craved the opulence and intrigue of the outside world.

Wayne, after indulging in their charms for a few days, acknowledged their desires. He knew that forcing someone unwilling to engage in research would yield poor results. Instead, he had the demigod-level sorceress Raani create binding magical contracts for Sabrina and Fringilla, ensuring their loyalty before sending them out on assignments that suited their strengths. With their connections and charisma, the two sorceresses could bring considerable influence and resources to the Witcher Order.

Returning to the present, Wayne addressed Sile with a warm smile:

"Ms. Sile, your dedication to knowledge and research is truly inspiring. I've gained so much insight from discussing these topics with you."

Sile, typically reserved, softened her expression and replied in a gentle tone, "Your ideas are equally inspiring, Wayne. If you had pursued magic, I have no doubt you would have made a name for yourself in the academic circles of sorcery."

It was no empty compliment. Sile, who had lived over two centuries and could rival Philippa Eilhart in intellect, genuinely appreciated Wayne's forward-thinking ideas.

After finishing his review of the secondary mutation research, Wayne shared a few more thoughts with Sile before rising to leave. Ever the gentleman, he bid her farewell courteously.

"I look forward to working together more in the future," Wayne said. "Your expertise is invaluable to the Order."

Sile nodded but hesitated as Wayne turned to leave. Her usual composed demeanor gave way to a rare moment of vulnerability. With an uncharacteristic softness, she addressed him by his first name, something she had never done before.

"Wayne," she said, her voice tinged with hesitation but warm, "I truly enjoyed our conversation. Perhaps you could stay tonight? We could continue discussing these fascinating academic subjects."

Wayne couldn't help but arch an eyebrow at Sile's suggestion, the sorceress's words carrying a tone that, while subtle, was undeniably clear.

"You have great talent in this area. Witchers can also master chaos magic, and learning more about magic knowledge will be highly beneficial for you," she said, her voice soft but deliberate, leaving little room for ambiguity.

Wayne turned his head, his expression one of mild surprise. He was about to respond when he noticed Sile rising from her chair, the thin fabric of her nightgown doing little to conceal her graceful figure. Her typically reserved demeanor now carried a tinge of vulnerability and a hint of boldness, her usually composed expression tinged with nervousness.

For a man of Wayne's experience, especially one who had dealt with many sorceresses in more than professional settings, the implication was abundantly clear. Sile was attempting to seduce him.

He chuckled inwardly at the thought. If it had been any other sorceress, he likely would have picked up on the subtle invitation long before now. However, Sile's typically serious and professional attitude had thrown him off, leaving him momentarily uncertain of her intentions.

It didn't take him long to discern why Sile had chosen this moment to make her move. Sorceresses and witchers shared a common trait as magically enhanced beings: the chaos magic coursing through their bodies heightened their metabolic rates, which in turn amplified their physical impulses and emotional needs.

Witchers, in particular, were notorious for their insatiable appetites, which explained their frequent patronage of brothels. By contrast, Sile had spent nearly three years confined to this secret laboratory. While she had likely found ways to address her needs privately, the prolonged isolation and lack of suitable company had clearly taken their toll.

Her fellow sorcerers, corrupted by the power of Demon Lord Baal, bore physical and mental scars that marked them as less than human. Their bodies were marred with demonic tattoos, and their once-human appearances had become twisted and unsettling.

Compared to them, Wayne was an ideal alternative. His chiseled physique and sharp features made him an obvious choice for someone like Sile, who undoubtedly valued aesthetics and perfection.

As he realized the depth of her intentions, Sile seemed to sense his understanding. She bit her lower lip, hesitating briefly before reaching up to loosen the drawstring of her gown. The delicate fabric slipped from her shoulders, falling gracefully to the floor and revealing her flawless, alabaster skin.

Her voice trembled slightly as she gestured toward the door, her gaze meeting his with a mixture of boldness and uncertainty.

"Please close the door, Wayne," she said softly. "I know about your relationship with Triss, and I have no intention of interfering with what belongs to her."

Her tone was firm yet laced with vulnerability. "But tonight, I hope we can create a memory worth keeping. You understand what I mean."

For a moment, Wayne hesitated, her words striking a chord within him. But as her trembling voice broke through her usual stoic facade, a mischievous glint sparked in his eyes. Sile's rationality had always defined her interactions, her demeanor cool and calculating. Perhaps tonight was an opportunity to see the passion buried beneath her composed exterior.