Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

The two walked out of the pub, and they started talking in the back alley.

Geralt crossed his arms, looked the woman in the eyes, and said calmly, "I know what you're here for, Renfri. Strigob is dead."

Renfri raised her eyebrows in surprise, and she covered her mouth feigningly: "Oh! Thank you, thank you! Heroic witcher! You saved me—you wouldn't think I would believe it, White Hair. guy?"

She laughed wildly, but the witcher's still calm face made her realize something, and Renfri's smile suddenly disappeared. There was no sadness or joy on that beautiful face, and she just asked lightly, "Is he really dead?"

"I saw it with my own eyes."

"Show me. As soon as I see him die—then it's over," she said firmly.

Geralt motioned for her to follow him. Twenty minutes later, they reached the granite tower in the dark. Renfri cautiously signaled the witcher to open the door first. The witcher knew that her six companions had been following not far behind, and did not know how the woman communicated with them.

But he doesn't care. Because Strigob is indeed dead.

The witcher opened the door, and the tower was in a mess, and Strigob's cold body lay on the ground, with the pots and pans, staring at the top of the tower with wide open eyes. Geralt remembered the lightning, but he didn't know why the lightning didn't cleave Strigob to charcoal. He Shenyan explained that it was because it was soul lightning. Geralt has always had little understanding of the magic of mages, but he is now quite fortunate that it was a soul lightning, otherwise a charred corpse would not satisfy this woman.

Renfri looked at the corpse.

She stood there and began to tremble, with hot tears streaming from her eyes, she drew the dagger from her waist and strode forward, wanting to do something to Strigob's corpse. The witcher held out a hand to stop her, but the woman still scolded Stregob angrily, and the witcher couldn't help but stare at her words. She cried and cursed, her voice hoarse. He even wanted to throw the dagger in his hand and poke a hole in Strigob's body.

The dagger clanked on the ground.

After a few minutes, she slowly calmed down. Geralt released her and stepped aside. Renfri sat on her knees, stared blankly ahead, and said to the witcher, "Do you want to hear a story, white-haired guy?"

Geralt folded his arms and hummed.

"You know what, don't look at me now, I used to be a princess. I had everything, servants who obeyed, fancy clothes and shoes. Jewelry, jewels, ponies, goldfish in the pond and dozens of these Towers. I own them all."

"Until the son of a bitch came. And then that scumbag Iredia ordered a hunter to kill me in the forest and take my heart and liver back, which was great, wasn't it?"

"But you didn't."

"Yeah, yeah! Because the hunter raped me!"

Geralt lowered his head, fiddling with his wolf head pendant.

"I blinded him with a brooch while he was running errands. Then he started running away."

"That's the end of the princess, the tattered dress, the filth. Then the dirt, the hunger, the stench, and the abuse. I sold myself to those old tramps just to survive. A bowl of soup, or a place to sleep," she continued, her tone unwavering, as if she was telling someone else's story. Geralt thought it might really be a past life for her.

She touched her hair, tore it out, bloodied it, and held it in front of the witcher's eyes for him to look at: "You know what, whitehead. My hair used to be silky and very It grows very long. But I can't even take a bath, I have lice and I'm forced to cut them by the root with a very old wool shear. That used to be my pride, but now, my hair is no longer Not long enough."

She was silent for a moment,

In vain, he brushed the ends of his hair from his forehead. "I steal so I don't starve. I kill so I don't get killed. I'm in a prison that smells of urine, and I don't know if they'll hang me in the morning or if they'll whip me and let me go. That way, my stepmother and the old bastard, Strigob, are still chasing after them, with poison, assassins, and magic."

"Iredia and Strigob want to poison you?"

"With apples coated with Nightshade. A dwarf rescued me with an emetic that vomits out the guts, and I survived."

"Is that one of the seven gnomes?"

Renfri froze, and suddenly she laughed.

"Oh," she said, "you know a lot about me. What's your way of dealing with gnomes? They treat me better than most humans. Strigob and Iridia keep chasing me like wild beasts. , until the day I became a hunter. Iridia died in her own bed. She was lucky, I didn't get to get close to her - I had a lot of preparation for her. What a shame."

Geralt was silent, and after a while he asked, "Do you know why Strigob and the Archduke's wife wanted to kill you?"

Renfuku suddenly straightened up, and she roared sternly: "It's too obvious! I'm the heir. Iridia's children are just illegitimate children, and they have no rights at all. That old cousin just wants her children to be in power. !"

"No," the witcher said calmly.

Renfri lowered her head, but only for a moment. Her eyes flashed: "Well, they think I'm cursed, tainted in my mother's womb. They think I'm..."

"What is it?"

"It's a monster."

"Are you?"

For a split second, she looked helpless and shocked, and utterly sad.

"I don't know, Geralt," she whispered. Then his face turned serious again, "Damn, how could I know? My fingers bleed when I cut them. I bleed on those days of the month. I get a bloated stomach when I eat too much, and I get a hangover when I get drunk. Sing when I'm happy, curse when I'm sad, kill people when I hate them, and I—enough!"

She slumped on the ground, as if she had lost all her strength, and her tone became numb: "Give him to me, and then I'll leave."

"Stregob wanted me to kill you." The witcher changed the subject.

"You promised?"

"I'm not an executioner, Renfri. I kill monsters, but not a poor girl."

Renfri laughed, her laughter echoing in the icy tower and above Strigob's corpse: "You—a mutant freak, feel sorry for me?!"

She stood up, threw the witcher against the stone wall, and shouted into his face: "I don't need your pity! Do you understand! I just want his body! Give him to me!"

Even at this point, Geralt hasn't lost his cool. He just gently pushed the girl away: "He's dead, Renfri, look at his body, he's dead."

Renfri whispered softly, whispering close: "Yes, but I didn't kill myself..."

She raised her head, UU reading www.uukanshu.com The original makeup has been spent, she was in tears, and laughed indifferently: "It's not bad, right? Anyway, he died, and my life will not return. It used to be."

Geralt shook his head, he turned to leave, but Renfri stopped him, she tore off her clothes, revealing a spring light, tears still hanging on her face. Her mouth was laughing, but her eyes were crying: "Come on, witcher. Don't you want to spend the night with me? Anything, gold, me, even someone else's life. As long as you take his corpse give me."

"All I want is this, anything, please," she pleaded.

Geralt sighed, and he stepped forward, closed Renfri's clothes, hugged her, and said softly, "He's dead, Renfri."

The girl finally burst into tears.

-------------------------------------

When they left Blaviken the next day, Stregob's body had been buried unbroken, and it was a miracle, after all, that he had a whole corpse.

Renfri disappeared with her people after that night. Geralt didn't know where she was going, and he wasn't going to ask. The witcher just wished her the best of luck.

He and his new companion rode horses and roamed the country roads. Geralt was still riding his Turnip—every one of his horses was called Turnip, even this tired, skinny old one. He Shenyan's horse looked different, with smooth black fur, tall and strong, and looked very handsome.

Geralt glanced calmly and commented, "That's a really good horse."

He Shenyan pretended not to know what he was thinking, and agreed with a faint smile: "Yes."