It took them three months to travel all the way south to Livia. This is a small northern kingdom and Geralt's full name, the Rivia among Geralt of Rivia.

It is located in Dol Angra, close to the Mahakan Mountains, and has a lot of advantages in trade. There are many excellent workshops and blacksmiths in Livia. The weapons and other goods produced are widely praised for their high quality and exquisite craftsmanship. The accent of the people of Livia is very recognizable, and they are also greatly discriminated against abroad. , until now there is still the saying that 'Livia people are thieves'.

Geralt looked away from the flag with three red prisms on a white background hanging on the city gate. He had no special feeling for this country. He called himself Geralt of Rivia because at the time Vesemir felt that his name was too grandiose and stupid, so he drew the prefix 'Livia'. He hadn't been to this place before, but it was no different from any other town he'd seen before.

Even some are far worse, after all, this is only a small country. But anyway, there is a stone and brick floor, and the people who come and go are also looking good - a good look means that they are living well, which means that there are no commissions to accept.

"It's here."

The black-robed mage muttered to himself, it was the first time he applied the prophecy to reality, so he was still a little excited.

"So what? What are we going to do now?" the witcher asked.

"do nothing."

"do nothing?"

"Yeah, no need to do anything on purpose. Just go with the flow, Geralt. Go do whatever you want, play with the girls, go to the casino, or you finally remember that you're a 'water ghost' Slaughterer', you can kill some water ghosts to relieve your anger. Just stay here for a while."

"...I'd rather you call me a white-headed knight than you call me that damn nickname."

"Okay, okay, white-headed knight, go do your work, I'm going to take a stroll here." The mage hurriedly sent him away, but he himself stayed where he was, slowly in the breeze Disappeared.

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

"Damn the water ghost slayer... damn white-headed knight, what a hell. God damn it, what bastard came up with that name... I'm going to hang him on a flagpole and whip him with a whip, even if he faints. Stop..." The witcher rode his new turnip, looking for the stables in the city. To his disappointment, there were no public stables like Novigrad, which meant he had to find an inn and get those damn profiteer innkeepers to get some krona out of his pocket.

"Ah..." the witcher sighed, and if this goes on, he may have to kill water ghosts every day - in fact, this is not something to be ashamed of, most witchers are like this, all day long Roll in sewers or sewers and kill a few water ghosts to earn some krona. This is not a high-end profession at all. Demon hunters with the ability to hunt dragons like Geralt are rare after all. Moreover, even if it was him, he still had to kill some water ghosts.

Picking a hotel on the street at random, he got off the horse, tied it to the stable outside the door, and entered the door.

The boss is a young man with a mustache, which is rare, and his beard is not even fully formed. The witcher reckoned he grew the beard to make himself look more mature. Most of the innkeepers are treacherous middle-aged people. Geralt has traveled around the world for many years, and he very much agrees with the saying that the innkeepers are profiteers. Therefore, even if the innkeeper is relatively young, he still does not have it. Let your guard down.

"One room, one night, and some food. And the sorrel mare outside the door, take care of her." Geralt's hoarse voice sounded beside the bar, and he threw thirty crowns,

This is a relatively low price, but definitely enough for this boss to pay for itself. As he expected, the young people's face is not enough to let them talk nonsense with their eyes open like middle-aged people, and steal his money. Bazihu ​​quickly put away the money, pointed out the room for him, and hurried to the back kitchen to start working.

Geralt found a corner and sat down. He put his swords on the table and moved his stiff shoulders. After the long journey, he really wanted something hot right now. Just as he was boredly waiting for the meal, out of the corner of his eyes, he caught a glimpse of a woman sitting in the other corner, with red hair and looking young. She covered her face, her exposed arms covered in bruises. Her shoulders were shaking, she looked like she was crying, and there were two bottles of wine on her table.

Geralt began to speculate that it was one of his little hobbies.

Did your husband hit you? No, not like...you're too young to get married unless your parents are full of assholes, but that's not ruled out. The clothes are good, and the family should be fine. If it wasn't your husband hitting you...it was your father, or your vicious stepmother. family.

He sighed silently until the girl let go, and Geralt's pupils shrunk to a line in an instant - there was a long scar on the girl's face, very new, not even completely crusted, He could even see a small portion of pink flesh.

Now, things get interesting.

Geralt narrowed his eyes and looked away. He didn't want to offend the girl, and just then, his dish came. The bearded young man brought him a plate of mashed potatoes and boiled beans, as well as a bowl of broth, which was quite affordable. The witcher said thank you softly, and the young man smiled a little overwhelmed. He walked over to the girl's table and spoke awkwardly.

"Vilya, if it really doesn't work, you can come back, you don't need to..."

"No, brother." The girl called Verya sniffed, interrupting her brother. There was still crying in her voice, but her expression was very determined: "I won't leave there unless they kill me."

Her brother fondly stroked the scar on her face, Geralt couldn't see his face, but his lowered voice was also a little trembling: "How dare they do this to you... God damn it! The gods are above..."

Virya instead comforted her brother: "No, they may have bullied me, but this scar has nothing to do with them, brother. I have grown up, don't worry too much about me, I have the ability to take care of myself. "

After speaking, she showed a strong smile, patted her brother's arm, and left.

Leaving her brother and Geralt quietly eating mashed potatoes.

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