Demon Hunter and His Hut

"The Witcher and His Cabin ()"

"It's almost there, we should be able to reach our destination before dark."

The man squinted his eyes, raised his head, and revealed a hideous face, with a staggered scar extending from the corner of his mouth to the roots of his ears. Even if he didn't make any expression, this face would still make the client feel ashamed when he performed the task. Hesitant again and again.

After all, in most cases, people always like to judge people by their appearance and classify them accordingly.

At the end of the forest, a wide valley lay across the horizon, and the boulders scattered on the bottom of the valley spread all the way to the steep hillside on the other side.

The White Rock River flows through the center of the valley, foam floats on the boulders, and logs float down the river.

It's getting colder and the wind is getting stronger, and in the mountains that means a storm is coming.

"Kaer Morhen is very close." He repeated it again, and looked back at his companions following behind him.

As always, he didn't see any expression on the other's face that showed his heart.

In fact, most demon hunters will put on an indifferent face when performing tasks outside to express their sense of alienation.

But for some reason, he always felt that the man in front of him was different from most demon hunters.

But he couldn't tell the specifics.

A kind of indifference or condescension?

Or just pure confidence?

The man nodded, and then his tense face suddenly collapsed, and a smile appeared on his mouth.

"Escal, should I hunt a bear as a preparation for this winter, or as a gift for a first visit?"

"Oh, there's no need for that, Roger."

The corner of Eskar's mouth twitched, he clearly intended to force a smile, but the slight change in the expression on his face made the hideous scar more conspicuous.

In the howling wind, it made him a little more fierce.

"Although you are not from Kaer Morhen, but believe me, everyone here will treat you like me." He pointed to his eyes as he spoke.

"we are the same."

"Also, to be honest, there are really not many demon hunters who can be seen alive nowadays."

"Except for a certain guy, most people are still friendly." Finally Escal muttered again.

Roger smiled, and did not ask who the guy Escal was talking about. He raised his head, looked at the distant sky, and began to look forward to that special place.

The time in the wizarding world has been restarted, and what happened in the past naturally cannot be changed. People living in this world don't know what happened in the entire plane.

They can only see the sky in the distance and feel the earth under their feet. For Roger, coming here is more about turning that untouchable dream into reality.

He wants to walk on this road in person and feel the atmosphere here.

In addition, he still has the obsession with two "companions".

Ophelia and Narcello.

The mountain road widens, crosses a gully and turns into a valley. In the valley is a wide depression, and the forest spreads among the jagged rocks.

Before long, the surrounding land opened up, and they followed the stream at the bottom of the valley. After following the stream for a few minutes, they crossed another valley and climbed a semicircular hillside.

Then there Roger saw Kaer Morhen leaning against a steep rock wall.

Or rather, its ruins.

Half of the trapezoidal city wall was demolished, the remnants of the outer fort and city gate, and the rough and strong main building of the castle.

"A long time ago, it didn't look like this." Escal said suddenly.

"At that time, there were a lot of people here, the training was cruel, and many people fell down or went crazy, but at that time everyone was full of hope."

"Because there are always new demon hunters joining our ranks every once in a while, we can't... leave blood, and those apprentices represent our heritage."

"But now..." Escal shook his head,

Go ahead first.

Roger followed behind him and walked across the only remaining bridge on the moat. The sky had already darkened, but this did not affect Roger's sight.

He lowered his head and saw the dead bones scattered on the bottom of the river, densely packed, almost filling the entire ravine.

An iron-clad grille appeared in front of the eyes, and behind the worn-out iron door was a dark corridor. At this moment, a deep voice sounded.

"Welcome back, Escal."

After a slight pause, the voice suddenly became sharp.

"Who is following you?"

While speaking, Roger also felt a pair of sharp eyes locking him firmly in the darkness.

"He's Roger from the north, and like us, he's wintering here for the first time this year."

Eskar took half a step forward, blocking that sharp gaze.

"north?"

"There are still..."

"Shut up, Lambert, you should at least open the door to let us in, it's getting colder, and besides, Roger is our companion."

"And not long ago, he saved my life!" Eskar said with a slightly accentuated tone.

"Heh..." Lambert muttered a few words casually, even though he was standing in the shadow, Roger could clearly see Lambert's appearance.

There was a shallow scar on his cheek, but it wasn't as ferocious as Escal's, but this guy's appearance was hard to like.

The bitterness in his bones was completely engraved on his face, it seemed that as long as he opened his mouth, these emotional things would spit out overwhelmingly.

Lambert, Roger smiled, in his memory, this is really a difficult guy.

Nice people, bad mouth.

This should be the most accurate summary of him.

"Are you the only one back?"

The creaking iron door was slowly opened, and Eskar asked casually.

"And Vesemir, he comes back every year, but apart from him, we are the only ones left."

"Where's Geralt?"

Escal raised his eyebrows.

"Ghost knows, Geralt of Rivia, his reputation alone may exceed the sum of all the remaining demon hunters."

Lambert replied eccentrically, and Roger could hear the emotion in the other party's tone, but it was not ridicule or jealousy, but a special kind of teasing among companions.

"It's not the time yet. I originally planned to introduce you to each other." Escal turned his head and glanced at Roger, then looked up at the sky.

"It's getting colder and colder, and there may be a blizzard soon. If we don't see him in these two days, Geralt probably won't be back this year."

The two walked into Kaer Morhen side by side.

Entering the interior, the dilapidation here made Roger feel even more desolate. This was once a huge castle like a fortress, but now, apart from the damaged city walls, the past prosperity has also disappeared in the years.

Then Roger saw a tall and strong old man wearing witcher-style equipment. Every groove on his face seemed to correspond to the dilapidation of the castle.

This is a witcher perhaps older than Kaer Morhen.

Vesemir.

"Welcome to Kaer Morhen, my friend."

"I've longed for it for a long time." Roger replied with a smile.

"I'm afraid I've disappointed you."

"No, the reason why Kaer Morhen is Kaer Morhen is not because of those big rocks outside."

"It's going to get better."

Roger let out a breath, and an inexplicable sense of stability welled up in his heart.