Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

That explosion was a warning.

Geralt thought so, but he didn't know who he was warning. Perhaps it is to warn the undead here, those undead who still have their own consciousness, such as that woman. She just wanted to remind herself of something, but was blown to pieces by 'He'.

This thing is getting weirder and weirder, and Geralt has to admit that he's starting to regret it. He just wants to take on a normal job, but this place is as evil as a water ghost playing the accordion. The witcher glanced back, and there was still a wall behind him, and he had no choice but to move on.

Rounding the chandelier, the witcher moved on. He doesn't know how long he has been in here, and time seems to have lost its meaning here. The scenery on both sides remained unchanged, the wallpaper was always crimson, a picture frame was hung there every few meters, and the chandeliers on the ceiling were also hung intact. Geralt looked back, and the broken lamp looked as small as a sparrow now.

As he walked, the sound of the banquet became clearer and came into his ears, and he could even hear the voices of people talking to each other and a cheerful song. Only this time, it was no longer from downstairs, but from the front.

This never-ending corridor was also brought to an end by him, and what appeared in front of Geralt was a dark red wooden door, without carvings, very ordinary. It's so ordinary that it shouldn't even appear in such a manor.

Geralt didn't hesitate, he pushed open the door and walked in.

What came into view was an empty banquet hall with no one in it. But the food on the table was still steaming, and each glass was full, in which the crimson wine swayed by itself. The heavy footsteps of the witcher echoed in the empty banquet hall, and he didn't hear any sound after he pushed the door open.

"Welcome! Welcome!" A man's voice sounded out of thin air, and he appeared on the high stage of the banquet hall, wearing an elegant dark blue robe, although he could no longer cover his stomach. The man smiled warmly and said, "Please welcome our guests!"

His voice fell, and the originally empty banquet hall was full of guests. They sat beside the table. They could not tell whether they were male or female. They were all wearing black robes and half-covered masks on their faces, only revealing those eyes.

Greed and malice were unabashed, and they began to applaud, monotonous and repetitive, annoying. The man closest to him stood up and handed him a glass of red wine, his lips under the mask twitched into a smile, revealing his yellow crooked teeth, in which the bright red tongue twisted and made a malicious sound: "Drink it... Join us!"

The witcher looked at him like an idiot. He was covered in blood, all traces of the previous woman's explosion. But without covering the red light that flickered on and off from the leather armor, Geralt slapped the red wine on the ground with a slap. I wonder if it was the scarlet liquid of the wine that dyed the black carpet red.

The smile on the man's face froze, and it stayed there forever. Geralt inserted the silver sword into his throat, twisted violently, and splashed black blood on the table of guests behind the man. Face. The witcher took a deep breath, a cruel smile on his face: "You should have killed me in the first place."

Somebody let out a roar, and the men and women in black all rushed towards him. Thanks to the mutation, Geralt's excellent dynamic vision allowed him to see every detail of their faces. They are all different, but all equally ugly. Geralt pulled out the blade, and a force surged into his heart with his movements, turning into the purest desire to use violence - he slashed the sword horizontally, and the huge exaggerated force made the silver sword sever in an instant. The five closest to him were cut off in the air.

Black blood splattered all over the witcher, he was surprised to feel that his fatigue had completely disappeared, and he even felt better than ever. He looked down at the leather armor, the patterns were no longer flickering,

The fiery red light illuminated his face, and the witcher smiled and shook his head, whispering in their roar, "You really gave me a treasure."

The killing begins.

It was not a split, as they envisioned, but a one-sided slaughter. The once invincible psychic attacks were of no use to the witcher, and the odd leather armor on his body blocked all influence. Like a thick wall blocking all the hands they were trying to reach into the witcher's head.

He whispered in the dark: "No, it shouldn't be like this..."

But that's how it happened.

Geralt wields his blade, creating death, and it's not difficult for him to send something that may have died once before. The increase the leather armor brought to him was unimaginable. After being drenched in the black blood of those people, it seemed to come alive. The witcher could even hear the roar of a dragon in a trance between swinging the blade.

With a smile on his face that he didn't realize, he cut off the head of the woman closest to him with a sword. When her head was still flying freely in the air, Geralt arrived with unimaginable agility. On the other side, like a hurricane, it swept the entire banquet hall. There was only blood and death wherever he went, and no one could stop one of his swipes.

Their special abilities were of no use to this witcher, and their flesh was too fragile to withstand the attack of the silver sword. Neither side realized that from the moment Geralt entered the banquet hall, the end had been doomed.

The witcher drew his blade, and the silver sword was covered with black blood. The man fell softly to the ground, like a puddle of boneless mud, Geralt didn't even look at him, smashed his head with one foot, and walked straight to the man in blue on the high platform - he was already there. Don't care about the truth of the matter, he just killed a cool guy and now he just wants to play again.

The man in blue didn't mean to run, he just stood there, watching his companions die and wounded, the warm smile on his face never changed.

Geralt stepped forward, just as he was about to kill the guy with his silver sword, he saw his eyes.

The man in blue was smiling, but his eyes were crying. This contradictory scene made the witcher stop for a while, and he kicked the man in blue to the ground. Geralt thought this would make him stop smiling, but he didn't expect that after he fell to the ground, he still had that kind smile on his face, kind, warm, and motionless.

Just ignore the tears in his eyes.

The witcher sighed, the killing urge in his heart gradually subsided.