The Divine Hunter

Two people appeared in the dark corridor, and the first one was Geralt of Rivia, whose hair was as pale as an old man.

He was still dressed in scruffy clothes, with a gray padded jacket, an old yellowed shirt, tight leather pants, greasy white hair scattered behind his head, and the stubble on his mouth was thick, obviously he hadn't taken care of it for a long time.

He waved at several people.

Eskar walked over and stood side by side with him, looking like two brothers.

There was also a third wolf demon hunter who came to greet the guests. Compared with the first two, he was obviously younger. His short black hair was close to his scalp, and his hairline was in a dangerous mountain shape. He had amber eyes, a hooked nose, There is a short ring of whiskers around the chin and upper lip, and the skin is pale and red.

Due to the "curse" of the wolf pie's scar face, he was like two good friends, with a long scar on the right cheek, extending from the forehead to the cheek, and his whole body was a little more hostile.

At this moment, this guy is putting his hands around his chest, slightly tilting his chin, and scrutinizing several guests with a slightly arrogant look on his face.

Lambert

Age: 52

Sex: Male

Occupation: Wolf school witcher

Life: 200

Mana: 120

Attributes:

Strength: 19

agile:?

Constitution: 20

Perception: 13

Will: 6

Charisma: 6

Spirit: 12

Skill:

Witcher Seal 8, Alchemy 6, Meditation 5, Wolf School Longsword Sword 10, Witcher Senses 7

fifty-two? The state is maintained well, and it looks like a half-bald youth just from the outside.

Roy had a deeper understanding of the witcher's youth shelf life. He turned his eyes, looked over Lambert's shoulder, and looked at the courtyard.

But he was in no hurry.

"Guys, welcome to Kyle Morhan, I haven't seen you for a few months, you have been very moisturizing," Geralt showed a stiff smile and shook hands with everyone, "It's exactly the same as last time, not a little thin. , not missing an arm or a leg."

"You've gained weight, Geralt. Also, thanks for the invitation."

Roy smiled brightly, reached out and shook his hand.

"You've already met Escal along the way, this is the youngest guy in Lambert Castle," he gave a warning look to his companion who was watching indifferently.

The latter nodded silently, but seemed to be suffering from dysentery, and his face was not very good.

Oaks in the team widened his eyes at him, and his amber eyes looked up and down unceremoniously, and his heart became more and more doubtful.

"Where does this guy look like me? I don't see any interesting soul at all. Instead, it's a bit mean."

"Lambert, these are"

"It's getting dark, it's very windy and cold outside, let's go, come in with me!"

A group of people passed the high hanging iron gate and passed through the secluded corridor.

Come to the spacious courtyard in front of the castle.

The courtyard is comparable in size to Edersberg's Fountain Square, but it is more dilapidated than imagined.

Most of the place is empty, with aged wooden shelves holding the disrepaired, decayed staircases and battlements.

In the corner sheltered from the wind under the city wall, there are daily training equipment for witchers: wooden comb piles, rotating dummies, and pendulums hung under the horizontal bars to train their avoidance ability, as well as whetstones for sharpening weapons.

The three big men of the Snake faction exchanged glances.

Kyle Morhan seems to be older and more shabby than Gersveld.

Everyone went up a few steps, and a banyan tree with a huge umbrella appeared in the center of the second floor of the courtyard.

Shaking his body with the sudden gust of wind in the evening.

Cast a shadow on a solid, tall wall.

The majestic Kyrmohan Castle came into view, and when everyone looked up, they felt dizzy.

There are several sub-forts and towers, guarded around, even the shortest one is more than 20 meters high.

Because the entire fortress was built on high ground, the witcher just had to stand on the battlements around the yard,

You can see lush woods below, expansive fields that are soothing, and snowcapped mountains soaring beyond.

"buzz"

A huge wooden door several meters high unfolded.

The crowd entered a dimly lit castle hall.

All the castles Bie Roy had ever seen were shabby and empty, without any fancy and extravagant decorations at all.

In addition to the candlesticks, the messy alchemy equipment, the tables, chairs, bookshelves everywhere, the big jars for winemaking, and the most impressive thing is the load-bearing stone pillars that connect the ground and the ceiling.

"Sure enough, in the conflict many years ago, Kyle Mohan was looted long ago."

Candlelight and the fire from the fireplace illuminate the open space in the center of the hall.

"Guys, sit and play for a while." Geralt pointed to a row of sofas by the fireplace, "I'll go and see how the food is ready, Escal, go and get the wine. Sorry guys, actually you guys It's a little early, and the potato skins may not have enough flavor."

"It's not a big problem, just drink it." Serrit shrugged.

"Well. Lambert, you stay here with a few brothers, I remember you didn't eat salted fish today, keep your mouth clean!"

The young Wolf faction snorted reluctantly and sat down on the tattered and yellowed leather sofa.

Geralt is ready to leave.

"Wait buddy, do you need help in the kitchen?" The bald man winked at the student beside him, who was observing the intricate structure of the castle, planning when he would have a big adventure.

"This kid's cooking skills are not bad, not inferior to the cooks in the tavern!"

"Isn't that appropriate? You are all guests from afar. How can you help the guests? Just enjoy yourself." Geralt hesitated, but a hint of excitement flashed on his face. In fact, the glorious tradition of the Wolf Sect has always The food should go in your mouth, not the taste.

Therefore, the wolf sect witchers never deliberately train cooking skills, even the oldest Vesemir, the food he cooks can only be said to taste good.

"Geralt, what kind of guests and masters are there today!? Entering Kyle Morhan is all brothers," Oaks hurried to the side to help, shouting familiarly, "Brothers should fight side by side, and the kitchen is another battlefield, The Snake faction should also be a pioneer, and Roy's craftsmanship will never let you down!"

"Strange argument, but it seems to make sense." White Wolf's dark cat pupils looked at Roy.

"There's wild boar, rabbit turnips, taro, and pumpkin left in the kitchen, how about you see what you can do?"

The latter sighed, no matter how he went, it was hard work.

He quickly got up and followed.

There was instant excitement behind him.

"Lesso, take out the Quint card and chessboard from your ring, and let's accompany little Brother Lambert to warm up before dinner."

"Don't worry about the Gwent card, man, I'm more interested in the Snake faction itself. Are you from the South? Group action is popular there now?"

"Isn't it too crowded? You won't fight if you meet every day?"

"Like me, I can only endure one winter at most. Geralt's dead face, Escal's ugly face is too disgusting. I'm afraid I can't help it for a long time."