Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

The man in blue was lying on the ground with his back straight up. His eyes were abnormally red, as if someone had dyed his eyeballs with paint. He made a strange 'ho ho' sound from his throat, and his fingers gradually twisted, becoming slender and sharp.

Yes, this is normal development.

Now you have to turn into a monster, kill me or I kill you, and one of us must die. Then it's over. The witcher thought nonchalantly, he didn't even bother to wipe the blood off the silver sword.

He was sore now, and after the adrenaline faded, a burst of intense exhaustion swept through his body, not to mention the damn toxin, his internal organs seemed to be burning with fire. He had used these potions before, but it was not as serious as this time. Geralt suspected that it was the leather armor. But, it's fair. It really doesn't make sense to have more power without paying a price.

Ignoring the protests from his arm muscles, he raised his sword, intending to kill him. As a result, the man in blue stopped after a twitch. He opened his mouth wide and spit out a black mist. The disgusting genial smile on his face disappeared, and he uttered two words with difficulty: "Statue..."

After speaking, he exploded like the woman. Fortunately, the witcher had expected this time, and he pinched a continuous Quinn shield to block those fragments on the shield. He glanced back at the banquet hall, where the lights were still bright, and you could even sit down and eat some food on the table, as long as you ignored the blood and minced meat there.

"Yeah, the statue... is there something wrong with you? It won't kill you if you finish talking." Geralt muttered to himself, glanced at the scraps of the man in blue, and said insincerely. Apologised: "Oh, sorry, I forgot that you might have died a long time ago."

He walked to the door of the banquet hall, intending to push the door and go out. As he expected, the door couldn't be opened again. Geralt simply sat down against the wall, his hands shaking, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

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home Sweet Home.

Lena Bordeaux stood in front of the dilapidated gate of her former home, the Bordeaux estate, with a bitter expression. She came alone, and left the city when it was just dawn. The morning temperature made her a little cold in her thin clothes, but the trembling she stood there now had nothing to do with the temperature.

From her point of view, the Bordeaux estate is dark, and the morning sun seems to have nothing to do with this land. The manor stood there, like some kind of eternal symbol of darkness, Lina shuddered, she forced herself to look away from the bright red tower top and the crow, and walked slowly into the manor.

As she moved forward, the recent situation of the manor came into view. The pale walls were mixed with some sort of filth, and the trees and lawns were dead. The glass of the windows was also broken, and they were like the eyes of the house, watching Lena Bordeaux. The girl looked at them, and felt more and more worried in her heart. An inextricable pessimism gripped her heart, constantly churning, causing her to feel a sincere fear between sinking and floating.

However, she didn't stop.

She just moved forward, and a horse suddenly appeared on her way. As if it couldn't feel the weird atmosphere here, it stood leisurely on the gravel road and waved its tail at the girl.

Lena walked in, and she saw the saddle and quilt on the horse, and a sword flanked to the right of the saddle. She dared to touch the horse's head. The chestnut-colored mare bowed her head and bumped her head against Lena's palm.

"You're docile...horse, but you shouldn't be here. No, your master shouldn't be here," Lina murmured as she looked up over the manor. The sun hit, shining directly above the red brick roof, but disappeared in an instant.

As if to deliberately remind the girl that there is no hope here.

Lena Bordeaux turned pale, and she felt the same urge to vomit as when her father brought the lantern back more than a year ago. The difference is that this time she ran away. And this time, she didn't. The girl pulled out the sword on the right side of the saddle, and the heavy touch made it almost impossible for her to hold it. Fortunately, although she is a big lady, she is also good at some sports.

Holding the sword, she felt a little courage in her heart—in fact, she didn't know why she was here, just as she didn't know why she saw the white-haired witcher in her dream.

Lena Bordeaux slowly walked into her home, holding Geralt of Rivia's steel sword.

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"destiny!"

"This is our destiny."

Rawls scratched his head, and he sneered disdainfully as he listened to the mad words of the preacher who was preaching loudly. According to Rolls Dunderley, there is nothing in the world that they cannot explain by fate.

You are bankrupt, fine, that is the destiny God has chosen for you.

Your wife has a miscarriage, that's fate too.

When you are walking on the road and you are stepped on for no reason, that is one of your destiny.

In a word, the bad fate is on the poor side, and those rich men above all have the right to donate money to the church to bless the gods - fate is a fart to them?

Rawls chuckled, this is his habit. He started laughing like this when he was a child when he killed the old neighbor's old lady's cat, and his father beat him, saying that Rawls laughed so hard. That time he hit hard and beat Rawls half to death. So Rawls killed him as an adult. He hadn't seen his mother, which made him a little sorry—one less to kill.

He turned into the alley and came to his hut. Rawls pushed open the door and was satisfied to see a blindfolded girl tied up and lying on the ground. He chuckled twice, making the girl tremble, but she didn't make a sound, which made Rawls even more satisfied. Before, she tried to scream, but when she realized that screaming would only get a harder beating, she stopped screaming.

She learns fast and is very smart. Her children should be the same.

Rawls's gaze shifted to the girl's stomach, he laughed twice, lit the oil lamp on the table beside him, took out a package from his arms, opened it, sprinkled a little brown powder and poured it on the table, Inhaled through the nose.

"Ah—" Rawls exhaled frantically, his ugly face trembled, blue veins bulged on his forehead, and only the whites of his eyes could be seen.

He danced wildly, waving his arms, and fell to the straw-covered ground, wriggling on the ground like a maggot. Suddenly, he stretched out his hand suddenly, grabbed the girl's ankle, and whispered, "Master... yes... your birth is unstoppable..."

After about ten minutes, he came back to his senses, his face full of joy. After turning off the oil lamp, he went out the door. He got in touch with the master again, and the master even said he needed his help - Rawls was never needed.

He walked out of the city quickly with his head down, and his target was the Bordeaux manor outside the city.