It was a harsh way of life, without choice. But Geralt realized that he truly had no room to cast aspersions. He'd been swept into nothing larger than a guild. Even at its height, there had never been more than a hundred heads at Kaer Morhen, witchers, trainees, alchemists and sorcerers. It was no society. But the rigidity remained.

"Sometimes you don't have a choice. Sometimes, all you have is a purpose. You spend your whole life convincing yourself that it's enough."

And if it's not, you simply don't survive. Momentary doubts killed witchers.