Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

"...He has white hair and carries two swords. He came from the north and swept straight down! Like a whirlwind, he had seen countless dirty things on the road, but he did not let them stain his heart. Novigrad is killing innocent people! But that's not what he meant, he's a good man... a special witcher!"

A bard was standing by the side of the road with a wooden box under his feet and a bowl with a lot of krona in it. He was standing there talking impassively, the poet wearing a pompous white feather hat, already slightly stained. He was wearing a dark red uniform, and he looked like a brightly colored rooster.

There were many people around him, listening to his stories, and even a few young girls handed him flowers, just for him to tell more stories about white-headed knights. It was obvious that they liked it very much.

Two travelers squeezed through the crowd, hurried past, one with a black hood not even daring to turn his head.

"Leave me alone..." the witcher moaned softly.

"You're quite welcome."

The black-robed mage laughed at his companion, and the witcher now wore a black hood to cover his white hair, and even the two swords were not on his back, but on the sides of the horse. It had been a month or so since they had left Kyle Morhen, and along the way, Geralt had been harassed enough—perhaps a blissful annoyance.

He didn't get those disgusted, contemptuous and even hateful eyes before, nor was he ever pointed at the nose and scolded in the tavern. On the contrary, every time he went to a new town, those who recognized him even sent him wreaths, and some girls even offered him shy kisses.

Geralt admitted that it was cool at the time, but in hindsight it wasn't good at all. He complained to He Shenyan in his room in the hotel: "How can I go out to take orders like this? I really don't know which bastard gave me the nickname, now everyone calls me a white-headed knight! What a hell!"

"Doesn't it sound good?"

"It sounds good... no, it's not a question of whether it sounds good or not at all."

"Since he sounds good, why do you have such a violent reaction to this nickname? Is it possible that you are shy about it?"

"..."

The witcher fell silent again. He hated the mage's sharp teeth and sharp mouth very much now. He could always hit the dark little thought in the witcher's heart, and he couldn't refute it. If I could describe it in one sentence, it would be: I am obviously very angry, but I can't find any reason to refute.

Geralt sighed and tried to change the subject: "So, what are you pulling me out for?"

"Go find a poor child." The mage's answer was beyond his expectations. Before he could speak, He Shenyan continued: "I'm not hiding anything from you, Geralt. Besides, I believe you are too. You can see it. The material used for that horse is not from this world, and I am not from this world, and I would even say I am leaving soon.”

Geralt seemed to have expected it, and He Shenyan had never thought to hide this since they first met, so he had already prepared himself mentally.

"But I have a habit, I must finish things, such as the grass trial."

"Stop, stop, stop, what." Geralt couldn't help interrupting him, and the witcher asked in confusion, "I'm not worried about the grass trial, but where are you going to find it? A child? We're not those kidnappers, and I'm sure you wouldn't just find a child on the street to take back."

He Shenyan rolled his eyes: "Of course I don't. Who do you take me for? I used a small prophecy spell last night, that's all. We just need to go all the way south."

"I've never believed much in prophecy."

"I don't really believe it either - but considering I made this prophecy myself,

I think you'd better believe it. "

"yes?"

Geralt became interested: "Would you mind saying it? Or is this prophecy the type that won't come true if it's spoken?"

After hearing this, He Shenyan gave him a strange look: "...What kind of prophets have you met before? Where is such a rule?"

"Forget it...listen."

A strange atmosphere began to spread in the hotel room, Geralt's back was shivering, his hair was standing upright, and out of the corner of his eyes he saw candles slowly floating on the table beside him.

The mage's eyes turned pitch black, he opened his mouth and let out a silent scream, Geralt heard him say something in a language that was more like noise than language, and miraculously, Geralt Can actually understand.

He said: "In the dark night, the white wolves will meet the young black wolves. They will cross the storm, and they will cross the ocean. The world... the black wolf will be dying, even dying..."

After a shudder, Geralt touched his nose with some discomfort, and he was surprised to find that he actually had a nosebleed. He Shenyan looked at the blood on his hand and explained, "That is the necessary price for hearing the prophecy."

"You just said... what language was that?"

The mage looked at him quietly: "Are you sure you really want to know? Learning this language comes at a price."

"Forget it, when I didn't ask." The witcher gave up decisively, wiped the blood from his nose, and asked vaguely, "So, how long will this situation last?"

"Looking at your physique...well, you should be able to recover tonight. Also, my personal advice is that you'd better write down that prophecy, but it's best not to keep it in your heart. Treat it as a. .."

"...think of it as an hourglass. Well, that's an apt metaphor. It's there whether you pay attention or not, and it's going to pass quietly, and as time goes on, it will come."

The witcher touched his arms uncomfortably, and said, "Okay...you're making me terrified."

"That's exactly what I want, not to impress you, I'm really afraid you forget this in 'Love and Flowers' or somewhere else."

"In your heart, I am such a person?"

"I've seen with my own eyes that for every ten kronor you earn, you spend six on those girls, and I have no doubt that if you had a choice, you could skip meals."

Geralt's face became unbearable, and he struggled for the last time: "Well, that was last year."

"Ha, let's wait and see." The mage said with a smile.