Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

"Ms Andrea, we need help here!"

A nurse stopped the angry Andrea. She looked anxious, her clothes were covered in blood, and her raised hands trembled slightly: "Pregnant woman has a difficult labor!"

Without much nonsense, Andrea immediately ran with her in the corridor. They passed through the clamor, the wailing of patients and the uneasy pacing of some family members to the ward. Andrea's heart sank, no matter how many times she did it, she couldn't get used to it.

She walked over to the pregnant woman who was in so much pain that her facial features were distorted, and looked at her face - for a moment, Andrea realized that she might not be twenty years old. Anger bloomed from her heart, but was extinguished by herself in the next instant.

She told herself: Andrea, not everyone is as lucky as you to meet a mentor, you can't be angry with her, and you shouldn't be angry with her family.

Andrea calmed down, she put on a smile, walked over to the girl, held her wrist lightly, a surge of magic power poured in, temporarily calming her pain.

The young girl's hand that held the sheet tightly because of the pain loosened, and then, Andrea pressed her palm to hers.

She looked at those eyes full of tears and softly relieved: "Relax, child, everything will be fine, I'm here, okay? What's your name?"

The girl nodded desperately, shaking her sweat-soaked hair, she gasped, "Lilo..."

It doesn't sound like a normal name, Andrea thought. Few parents usually give their children such short and easy-to-remember names, which are usually pseudonyms, the names used by barmaids and prostitutes.

"Okay, Lilo. Do you believe me?" she continued, her voice soft and firm.

"When, of course, Ms. Andrea." Although Lilo was in pain, she still showed a pale smile. "We all trust you."

"Okay. Boy, I want you to close your eyes..."

Lilo did, and she was scared and in pain. But still did as Andrea said, closing her eyes - "Take a deep breath, Lilo, take a deep breath."

Fifteen minutes later, Andrea walked out of the ward, but saw an unexpected person outside the corridor.

"You're doing a good job here, Andrea." He Shenyan said with a smile. "I noticed the automatic magic circle you used on the outer wall of the hospital. It's a good idea, simple enough, easy to maintain and extremely practical. Nice style."

"teacher?!"

"What? Surprised to see me?"

He Shenyan looked at Andrea, she had not seen her for ten years, and the girl had grown up. Unlike other sorceresses, the first thing she did after mastering magic was to change her appearance and figure.

In fact, Andrea still maintained her original appearance, with an ordinary face and even some freckles. The flaxen hair was tied up behind her head, and her eyes were as firm as ever.

"It's false to say no, teacher." Andrea smiled in surprise. "It's just that you left a little too long."

"But at least it's not too late, I'll have time to see my apprentice grow up. Is that kid okay?"

"She's fine, teacher. It's a boy..." The smile on Andrea's face stopped for a moment.

In this day and age, a girl gives birth to a child at a young age, if she does not have a rich family, or a decent job. Then, the child's future destination is either the Temple of Meritelli, or the orphanage, or even worse, they will be thrown into the sewers of Vizima.

The mice there eat fat.

He Shenyan could know what his apprentice was thinking with just a glance, but he wasn't going to pass on some of his 'life experience' to her.

There is no need for this - preaching is useless, and the truth of some things can only be found by yourself.

However, the necessary enlightenment is still required.

He made a gesture, and a white pattern lit up on Andrea's forehead, which was intricate and exquisite, like a crown. She didn't know anything about it, only that the mage was staring at her, which made her a little uneasy.

"...Did I do something wrong? Teacher?"

"Nothing, Andrea." He Shenyan smiled. She worked very hard, and the crown has not been extinguished to this day. "You did very well."

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Take a deep breath, Geralt.

Take a deep breath - breathe in, breathe in, breathe out, breathe in.

Repeated four times, this method worked every time, and each time it slowed down his heartbeat. Partly because of his youth training at Kyle Morhen, and partly because of his altered body.

The white-haired witcher changed into new clothes and even took a shower. Originally, he didn't intend to do this, but the disgusting look in the lady boss's eyes when he bought the flowers made him more or less aware of it.

His two traveling companions knew nothing about it. Regis is a vampire, as long as he wants, he can turn a blind eye to all kinds of smells, but He Shenyan simply has a protective magic circle all over his body. Forget the smell, Geralt felt that even a volcanic eruption wouldn't burn off a bit of his clothes.

Holding a bouquet of lavender, he wore a brand-new shirt, the studs on his breeches gleamed, and his boots were spotless on the clean cobblestone floor of the Vizima trade area. In this way, the witcher suppressed his excitement and slowly came to a low but delicate house.

It is made of red bricks with a chimney at the top, which looks warm and warm. There are many flowers under the windowsill, some of which are against the season and should not be open at this time, but they are still in bloom and gorgeous. Geralt pushed open the door of the wooden fence and stepped onto the clean flagstone road, passing the flowers on both sides, and the trees above cast a green shade.

He knocked on the door.

A woman's lazy voice sounded from it, reminding him of the gentle wind and the comfortable bed-she pushed open the door, stunned for a moment, and then smiled.

Geralt couldn't say for a moment whether the flowers were more beautiful, or whether she was more beautiful.

"Geralt!"

The red-haired sorceress slammed into his arms, his warm breath dripping wet against his chest. Geralt could feel her greedily ingesting his scent, and her embrace tightened a little after sensing the smell of soap.

"You took a shower."

She whispered in his ear, lavender squeezed between their each other's chests, bearing the beating of their hearts, quivering with their breathing.

"Yes."

Geralt readily admitted that in his relationship, such words represented many things. The sorceress's breath became hotter, she dragged Geralt into the house, flicking her fingers, and the magic force closed the door. Then, she squatted down.

"Triss, you're playing with fire..." Geralt gasped, answered only by the sorceress's muffled laughter.

That night, they finally calmed down.

"Well, that Mr. He is also traveling with you? And a high-level vampire?"

Triss was lying on the bed, lazily pulling the sheets to cover herself, propping her head up, smiling and saying, "It's nice to see you make a new friend, Geralt. You're always slaying demons and demons all by yourself. Sooner or later you're going to have trouble mentally. I worry about you every day, that you're going to die in some stupid commission. It's better to have someone looking after you."

"Are you so unsure of me?"

"No, it's just that I know your virtue very well." Triss smiled helplessly. "You're always doing things you shouldn't do, not for money, not for fame. Putting yourself in danger...I love you for that, but I hate you for that."

"Are all of you women like this, you love and hate me?"

As soon as Geralt said the words, he realized that he had said something stupid. Sure enough, Triss's brows were already wrinkled: "'You guys'? Don't mention your prejudice against women, don't tell me you met her again..."

The witcher scolded his own stupidity inwardly. He struggled for a few seconds between lying and telling the truth, and then chose to die quickly. Anyway, Triss can read minds, so why should he hide?

However, he did not speak, but admitted in his heart.

Yes, I met her.

Triss stared at Geralt with a creepy look in his eyes for several minutes before shaking her head and said, "Geralt, I really want to slap you."

"Speaking like this at a time like this... well, Geralt, I wanted to stay the night with you, but now it doesn't seem to work. I'm a little pissed, get out of the hotel tonight. ."

She gave the eviction order ruthlessly and sternly, but Geralt was still stubbornly resisting: "That was two months ago, Triss, don't take it to heart..."

"Don't take it to heart?!"

The sorceress's voice suddenly became high. "Damn it, Geralt! How did you promise me when I left Kyle Morhen that I would never mess with anything? You promised so firmly! "

"I—I, I really didn't go to those places again."

"What about her?!"

"It was just an accident, trust me, Triss, it was really just an accident."

"enough."

The sorceress pointed resolutely at the door, and Geralt's trousers floated from the ground over his head. He heard Triss cry, "Get out."

This time, he didn't say anything more.

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You are such an idiot, Geralt.

Walking down the streets of Vizima at night, Geralt cursed himself in depression and frustration. Different from what he looked like when he came, he walked down the street in the trading area with his head down, and there were several loud shouts from the tavern beside him. This made him look up at the tavern's sign, and then weighed his purse.

Well, Geralt, you brought it on yourself, and drink to ease your worries...

He pushed open the door of the tavern called "Drinking in a Big Barrel" and walked in, but the inside was not as he thought, full of alcohol and people chatting and laughing, but a few people sitting with depressed faces One piece, male and female.

When one of the dwarves saw him coming, he raised his hand feebly and waved: "Dude, you're here at the wrong time. The tavern doesn't sell alcohol during this time."

"What?" Geralt almost thought he had heard it wrong. "Then what are you doing?"

"We're trying to quit drinking."

A female elf said with a pained face: "As you can see, witcher, this is a temperance party."

"...is this a joke?"

"Not a joke, sir." A man took over. "Actually, a few of us drink here every day. Because we are always fighting with people, arguing and making too much noise to disturb the people, we have been asked by the city government to stop drinking for a period of time - at least not to drink alcohol anymore."

He also rubbed his face depressedly: "This is the first day, God, this is the first time in my life in the past 12 years that I haven't had a drink at night. I can't stand it anymore."

The dwarf echoed him: "I agree with you, Jonathan. I can't agree more."

He shouted loudly in common language with a strong accent: "I opened this tavern just for drinking, why won't you let me drink? Don't let me drink, why won't you let me do business? Did you beat more people in two months?"

"Come on, Zoltan," said the female elf with a sad face. "You beat up 137 people in the past two months, I can count them all."

"My beard is on! What do you remember this for?"

"God damn it, how dare you ask?!"

He didn't mention it, but when he mentioned this, the female elf instantly became furious: "Every time I try to drink alone, you will knock over the table. Last Friday, you fought with three idiots here and paid me for it. The Madina Rosé has been spilled!"

"Didn't I return you a bottle..."

"I bought the medina-rosé-wine! You gave me pepper vodka!"

The female elf gritted her teeth and said, "Is that what people drink?!"

Geralt's gloomy mood was somewhat tempered by their witty conversation, and the witcher leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, listening to their conversation. The man noticed this and made a gesture: "Uh, sir, aren't you going to drink somewhere else?"

"No."

Geralt rejected his offer: "I've just been kicked out of the house by a woman, and at first, I did want to spend the night drunk. But I think it might make her angrier, and your chats will very funny."

"Come and sit down then!" the dwarf greeted him vulgarly. "Move your ass, white-haired boy, come and sit down!"

Geralt did, and he liked the dwarf very much.

"Then, here comes the self-introduction session."

The dwarf patted his chest and said loudly and proudly: "My name is Zoltan Ziva! This picky elf is Cecilia Fanny! As for that one, he is Jonathan Dorking! We The three are the famous local wine tasting associations! Full-time reviews of the pros and cons of various wines!”

"Maybe it should be renamed Alcoholics Anonymous now." Geralt said abruptly, making everyone laugh.

"I like your sense of humour." The female elf Fanny smiled. "Ah, it's always nice to meet new people, I wish I had wine on hand."

"Is there any wine in the tavern?" Geralt asked.

"No, the guards removed all the wine and kept it in their camp."

Zoltan waved his hand: "I'm not worried about them drinking secretly, those guys are honest people. But it's too uncomfortable to not drink!"