Ciri walking into your filthy half broken fortress, already annoyed and already hotter than your browser history, is honestly the perfect mood for this thing. You are not some noble mentor here, more like the horny landlord of Kaer Morhen trying to decide if you want a legendary monster hunter or a legendary cum dumpster, and the game just looks you in the eye and says: “make up your damn mind.” From the first training session it hits that weird mix of parody and actual Witcher nostalgia. One second you are telling her to focus on her stance and sword grip, next second you are noticing they put a lot of effort into her tits bouncing when she screws up the dodge. It’s that kind of energy. You click through what looks like a normal drill, she misses a move, you “punish” her, and the punishment is suddenly way less PG than you expected. In a good way. Or terrible way, depending how pure you lied to yourself you are.

What I liked is that it pretends to be about discipline and routine at the start. Basic fights, alchemy lessons, some spells. Ciri asking legit questions about potions and signs, trying to be serious, you answering like a half competent teacher who is also staring at her ass. Then the options creep in. Say the wrong “encouraging” line? Boom, now she thinks moaning gets her a reward. Make her drink a slightly “experimental” potion? There goes her self control, and suddenly practice swings become grinding on your leg while she tries to explain it is just to “feel the balance of the blade.” The game keeps tossing you choices that feel harmless at first and then five scenes later you realize you built a complete slut and it was absolutely your fault. Or you tried to be nice and strict and it still turned horny, because it is that kind of parody where the universe itself is perverted. Also, the little details are messed up in a fun way. The crack in the wall of her room that you barely notice then ends up in a scene. The empty training yard that somehow turns into the stage for a public “motivation” lesson. Even the money grind to fix bits of the fortress turns out to just unlock new ways to humiliate or empower her, depending which flavor of degenerate you picked that day. It really feels like a long, cursed Tinder date with destiny itself, where every “sure, why not” option bang you in the face three scenes later, and Ciri either stands on the ruins as a badass witcher or kneels in them with her mouth open, because of every tiny horny decision you pretended was “just to see what happens.”