The Divine Hunter

After the two checked the scene, they said goodbye directly to Kasili, the village chief of Sponsor, who turned red with anxiety.

I finally hoped for the stars, the moon, and the witchers, and just let them go, what will the village do in the future?

"Master Lesso, didn't we have something to say first, if you are really embarrassed, I am willing to increase the price!"

The witcher folded his arms and retorted unceremoniously,

"Think about it again. I clearly said that I will make a decision after surveying the site. Now I have decided to reject this commission!"

"It's not just a question of price, no matter how much money you make, you can't spend your life! The hunter's pursuit of monsters is a business. Pay attention to the basic trading principles. You have the right to make an entrustment, and we have the right to refuse."

"Don't you two have the slightest sympathy? Tina and Jim, and the widow, the family of the young deceased, how pitiful!" Casili pleaded, frowning, "Can't you help them and catch the murderer? "

Unfortunately, he couldn't see a trace of pity on the witcher's cold face, so all his pleas faded, a trace of resentment appeared in his eyes, and his attitude immediately became extremely bad.

"Sure enough, as the rumors say, witchers are cold-blooded animals and don't have human emotions! Go away, don't come to Spencer, you are not welcome here!"

Leto was unmoved by his sarcasm.

And it's not the first time that Roy has encountered such a bad thing.

The last time was Kaye Village. After the villagers got rid of the threat of the tomb witch, they turned around and started talking. The second time is the person in front of you, and you will tear your face if you don't like it? And scolded so badly.

If it was a grumpy cat demon hunter, might he just jump up and kill this group of civilians?

Roy shook his head, and the last trace of sympathy and apology disappeared.

He began to understand why most witchers were always poker-faced, and when this happened a lot, it became numb...

...

The two ignored the resentful eyes of the village chief and turned to walk towards the mountain road in Mahakan.

"Lesso, if I was as good as you, would you still refuse this commission?"

"Don't think about it, kid, you'll have a chance to fight it in the future, so be honest and prepare for the trial of grass now." The witcher said, "By the way, you shot that guy's messenger just now, pray Well, pray it doesn't take the initiative to seek revenge."

But leaving Spencer, they were not attacked along the way.

Soon after, I officially set foot on the mountain trail leading to the depths of Mahakam. This road is surrounded by steep rock walls that cannot be seen at a glance, and the road is paved with slate.

The two walked for about an hour, and the vision suddenly widened, and there was a faint voice of people.

What caught my eye were two rows of huge barricades made of pointed logs. The barricades blocked the way to the interior of the mountain forest. Behind the barricades, a dwarf wearing silver chainmail and carrying a black heavy hammer was with two heavily armed companions. to chat with.

Another dwarf crossbowman glanced vigilantly on the tall wooden sentry tower. The crossbow in his hand was larger and heavier than Roy's hidden Gabriel in space.

The difference between the two is like the difference between a model and an entity.

Roy's eyes were slightly warm, and just as he was about to open his mouth, the dwarves who were watching found their figures.

"Outlanders, Mahakan is not the place you should come, leave!"

During the conversation, the dwarf crossbowmen on the sentry tower quietly aimed at them, and the lazy hammer guard was alarmed by the sound, and also shoved the heavy hammer to his side with a ferocious face.

"Ma... Mahakam is not... strangers are welcome, to... go to Elland, detour from... from Livia and Upper Sodden to the south!"

The talking dwarf, the heavy hammer in his hand is longer than the body, the hammer head is bigger than its head, and the five short stature is carrying such a weapon, which makes him look quite funny.

In fact, the strong inertia of the heavy hammer allows it to easily crush human bones and smash body tissues into flesh.

"Is this the trouble Sevier said about the passage? Don't let outsiders pass at all!" Roy was stunned. If he really took a detour from Livia to Soden as the dwarf said, the distance between the two would at least double.

The witcher behind him gave him an understanding look, as if he had given him the job of negotiating.

The witcher seemed to understand that his vicious appearance and temperament were not suitable for diplomacy.

Roy finished the draft, stepped forward and said as calmly as possible, "Several dwarf brothers..."

"Who... who is your brother!" The big-tongued guard interrupted him with spittle flying, "Go back!" He took another step forward, and the braid on his chest swayed to this side. A strange smell mixed with alcohol and sweat wafted out from afar.

Roy couldn't help but take a step back.

"This warrior, we are not enemies, I have Seville..."

Halfway through the words, Roy's eyelids suddenly jumped, and his keen perception raised a warning sign in his heart. But his body couldn't keep up with the reaction at all and couldn't make any movements.

The next second, a dazzling arrow hit the slate at his feet and bounced back to the rock wall, with a strong warning.

Roy's muscles tensed spontaneously, and he involuntarily took a step back.

The witcher beside him moved faster, the five fingers of his right hand quickly outlined an upside-down triangular seal in front of him, and in an instant, a shroud that kept flowing yellow light wrapped him all over.

After putting on the seal of Kunen, the witcher had no scruples, and pulled out the white bright steel sword from the scabbard behind him, holding the hilt in both hands and holding it horizontally to the side of his face, the sword tip pointed to the position of the dwarf's throat, the posture of the body and the sword. Like a bison with a sharp horn.

The atmosphere was tense and extremely depressed, and the breathing of a group of people in the field was extremely heavy.

What a pile of stinky and hard rocks!

Roy spread his hands and stepped back,

"Lesso, don't be impulsive, let's take a few steps back."

He has seen the ruthless side of this butcher with his own eyes, and he can bear with the civilians who are not very threatening, and those who dare to show their weapons to him face to face.

The last time the revolutionary army did this, the grass on the graves had grown to the height of three times.

Their bad attitude is outrageous, but they don't deserve to be killed, right? What's more, this is the territory of the dwarves, killing them all and forming a deadly feud, how can they pass through Mahakan smoothly.

The witcher pondered for a moment, his amber eyes full of murderous intent, swept over the dwarves one by one, and suddenly pressed down the steel sword in his hand. Slate pavement.

This time, it was the four dwarves' turn to be surprised.

"Quick...Quick...Go back!"

The big-tongue dwarf involuntarily put down the hammer and said something sickly. Then he turned to look at his companion with a stiff expression, and several of them looked at each other, like a punctured balloon, completely lacking the momentum of the initial expansion.

Roy seized this opportunity and quickly took out the envelope and said loudly, "We are friends of Lord Sevier Hogg. This letter was written by him, please take a look..."

Hearing these words, the dwarves after the roadblock sighed in relief as if they had received a pardon.

The wooden-faced witcher brought them enormous psychological pressure.

"You... come here, stand bald! Don't... don't move!"

A few seconds later, the big-tongue dwarf stretched out his carrot-thick fingers and took the envelope easily.

Staring at a pair of bull's eyes for a moment, then his head was slapped with a "snack", and he turned around while blowing his nose and staring.

"Idiot! How literate are you?! I'm sorry for making you two laugh. Although dwarves are an excellent race, sometimes a few mentally handicapped children are born..."

The dwarf crossbowman climbed down from the tower at an unknown time, and no matter how the Big Tongue Dwarf glared at him, he grabbed the envelope and read it.

"Well, this is Lord Seville's handwriting and seal, that's right." The crossbowman nodded and handed the envelope back, the hostility on his face vanished, but when he looked at the witcher, his eyes were still a little hairy.

"What happened just now was a misunderstanding. It was Reagan and the three brothers who were reckless. Please forgive our recklessness."

As he said that, he seemed to have completely forgot his previous hostility, and bowed deeply to the two of them regardless of his face.

The other dwarves also hurriedly bowed and made amends.

"It's okay, I've heard about your upright temper. It's the noble character of your dedication and duty that has opened my eyes!" Roy complimented, and in the slightly complacent eyes of the dwarves, he reached out to his clothes. Dig out, and then opened a cork with a "squat" sound.

A bottle of fine wine with a strong aroma appeared in front of the dwarves, and for a moment, they stretched their necks and gulped wildly like cats smelling fishy.

"The clothes are... so small, you... did you take them out from... where... from...?" The stuttering dwarf pinched his beard and widened his eyes in puzzlement.

"Your question is not important. This bottle of fine wine was given to us by Lord Sevier to enjoy on the road. The fifty-year-old Mahakam spirit is as strong as the dwarf spirit." Roy glanced at his companions beside him , the witcher put his arms around his chest and looked like he was watching the show, but he didn't stop him.

He continued, "But now I want to share it with a few of you, just be a friend, what do you guys think?!"

"This is..."

"Lord Seville's friend is the friend of all of us Mahakam dwarves. It's normal to enjoy wine with friends. It's a pity that we are on duty, but it is not convenient for you to drink with you now." Carrying a crossbow, the name A dwarf named Regan Dahlberg declined his offer.

Roy shook the wine bottle with one hand to make the aroma of the wine accelerate, and looked at the four dwarves from head to toe.

"I heard that the dwarves are all masters of drinking. The four have extraordinary appearance, and they must have the corresponding amount of alcohol. A small bottle of Mahakam spirit is not enough to stick between their teeth. How could it affect their daily work?"

"Of course..." The big-tongued dwarf nodded heavily when he heard the sound, and couldn't agree more. The two dwarves with the big axe beside him also obviously moved.

And the crossbowman was still hesitant.

Seeing this, Roy retracted his hand, "If the four of you insist on refusing, I won't force it, just leave this bottle of wine on the road, and let me enjoy it alone."

"Hold on--"

The crossbowman finally couldn't hold back the wine bug that was about to move, and his big black-haired hand grabbed him and took back the wine bottle, "Brother Roy said it well, such a small amount of wine will not delay our work as guards. ."

...

Half an hour later, the guards paid the price for their underestimation, and the four bearded dwarves fell asleep at the barricade, downed by the fortified Mahakam spirit.

After careful adjustment by the witcher apprentices, they were paired in pairs, posed in an intimate mouth-to-mouth hug.

Roy couldn't put it down and played with a small wrench finger and a pair of delicate crossbow, which were picked from the crossbowman.

On the crossbow body, a row of clear text can be seen——

To my dear brother, Regan Dahlberg

Roy looked happy, he had always wanted to replace "Gabriel", and this time he finally got his wish.

"The perfect killing weapon requires a finger to control. Brother Regan, this weapon should be used as the expense of fine wine. When I pass Mahakam, survive the trial of green grass, and have a chance to come back to you for a drink."

"Absolutely in line with the principle of fair trade for witchers, do you think it's Leto?" Roy suddenly felt that the depressing energy that was spurned by the village chief Spencer had completely disappeared.

The road to witch hunt is full of hardships, and occasionally you have to find some fun for yourself.

Leto shook his head and continued to climb the mountain road.