Serious person, who is learning magic in Marvel?

"...He had white hair and carried two swords on his back. He came from the north and swept down! Like a whirlwind, he saw countless dirty things on the road, but he did not let them stain his heart.

Novigrad went on a killing spree for innocent people! But that was not his intention, he was a kind man...a special witcher!"

A bard stood on the roadside, with a wooden box under his feet and a bowl beside him with a lot of crowns in it. He was standing on it and telling stories impassionedly. The poet wore an exaggerated white feather cap.

The hat has some stains. He is wearing dark red uniform, and the whole person looks like a brightly colored rooster.

There were many people around him, listening to his stories, and there were even a few girls holding flowers and handing them to him, just to let him tell more stories about the Bald Knight. It was obvious that they liked it very much.

Two travelers squeezed through the crowd. They passed by in a hurry, and one of them with a black hood didn't even dare to look back.

"Let me go..." The demon hunter moaned softly.

"You're quite popular."

The black-robed mage laughed at his companions. The demon hunter was now wearing a black hood to cover his white hair. Even the two swords were no longer on his back, but on both sides of the horse. They started from Kai

It has been over a month since Ermohan left, and Geralt has been harassed a lot along the way - perhaps it can also be called happy troubles.

He didn't get the looks of disgust, contempt or even hatred that he had before, nor was he pointed at or scolded in the pub. On the contrary, every time he went to a new town, those who recognized him would even give him flowers.

Some girls even gave him shy kisses.

Geralt admitted that he was really happy at the time, but when he thought about it afterwards, it was not good at all. He complained to He Shenyan in the hotel room: "How can I go out to receive commissions like this? I really don't know who the bastard is.

They gave me the nickname, and now everyone calls me the Bald Knight! It’s really like hell!”

"Isn't it nice to hear?"

"It sounds good... No, this is not a question of whether it sounds good or not."

"Since he sounds nice, why do you have such a strong reaction to this nickname? Is it possible that you feel shy about it?"

"..."

The demon hunter fell into silence again. He now hated the mage's sharp teeth and sharp mouth. He could always hit the dark little thoughts in the demon hunter's heart, and it left him unable to refute. If I use one sentence to describe it, then

That is: 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 doing by dragging me out?"

"Go find a poor child." The mage's answer was beyond his expectation. Before he could speak, He Shenyan continued: "I won't hide it from you, Geralt. Besides, I believe you also

It can be seen that the materials used for that horse are not from this world, and I am not from this world either. It can even be said that I will leave soon."

Geralt seemed to have expected it, and He Shenyan had never thought of hiding this from the first time they met, so he had already been mentally prepared.

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

"Stop, stop, what?" Geralt couldn't help but interrupt him, and the witcher asked puzzledly: "I'm not worried about the Trial of Grass, but where are you going to find it?

Where is a child? We are not those kidnappers, and I believe you would not just find a child on the street and take it back."

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

"I've never really believed in prophecies."

"I don't really believe it either - but considering that I made this prediction myself, I think it's better for you to believe it."

"Yeah?"

Geralt became interested: "Do you mind telling me? Or is this the kind of prophecy that will not come true if you say it?"

Hearing this, He Shenyan gave him a strange look: "...What kind of prophets have you met before? Where are these rules?"

"Forget it...listen up."

A strange atmosphere began to spread in the hotel room. Geralt felt a shiver on his back. His hair stood on end. From the corner of his eye, he saw the candle on the table nearby floating slowly.

The mage's eyes turned dark. 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. Miraculously, Geralt

I can actually understand it.

What he said is: "In the dark night, the white wolf will meet the young black wolf. They will pass through the storm and cross the ocean. They will rebuild their former glory, and they will search all over the world for a swallow.

The world...the black wolf will be dying, even on the verge of death..."

After feeling a shiver, Geralt touched his nose with some discomfort. He was surprised to find that he had nosebleeds. He Shenyan looked at the blood on his hand and explained: "That's when I heard

The Necessary Price of Prophecy.”

"What language was that...that you just spoke?"

The mage looked at him quietly: "Are you sure you really want to know? There is a price to pay for learning this language."

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

"Depending on your physique...well, you should be able to recover tonight. In addition, my personal suggestion is that you'd better write down that prophecy, but it's best not to keep it in mind all the time. Just treat it as a...

..”

"...Just think of it as an hourglass. Well, this metaphor is very appropriate. Whether you pay attention to it or not, it is there, and it will pass quietly. As time goes on, it will eventually come."

The demon hunter touched his arms with some discomfort, and said, "Okay... You're starting to creep me out a little bit."

"This is exactly what I want. I don't want you to have any impression. I'm really afraid that you will forget this in 'Love and Flowers' or other places."

"In your mind, who am I?"

"I've seen with my own eyes that for every ten crowns you earn, you spend six of them on those girls. I have no doubt that if you had the choice, you wouldn't even have to eat."

Geralt's face was a little helpless, and he made a final struggle: "That, that was last year."

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