The Divine Hunter

Among the towering, snow-capped Blue Mountains.

Nestled in the middle of the snowfield, the majestic fortress of Kyle Morhan comes to life.

Weeds and fallen leaves accumulated in the courtyard were cleaned up.

A trove of newly installed plum blossom stakes, pendulums, and dummies filled the training ground. Old and damaged courtyard benches, gazebos, and walls were refurbished and painted. The spires of towers gleamed in the rising sun.

In the third building from the left, in a shabby bedroom in the style of a witcher.

Two sorceresses leaned against the window, gazing out into the vast snow field outside the castle, whispering.

"Lydia, it's been more than a month since you moved here, how do you feel?" Coral blue eyes glanced at the woman on the left.

He was slender, with brown hair neatly tied into a ball at the back of his head.

He took off the magic mask he had worn for 20 years, revealing his true face.

The upper half of the face exudes an elegant and intellectual temperament, the eyebrows are as pale as a distant dais, the eyes are bright and quiet like a pool surrounded by a forest, a delicate nose, and thin cherry-colored lips.

But starting from the chin to the swan-like slender neck is like a nightmare.

Full of burn-like scars, scabs, and growths.

A hand with a magical prosthesis.

"Sorry, Coral..." Her voice was hoarse and harsh, with severe damage to her vocal cords and throat. "I served him for twenty years."

"For such a long time, he has been my master, my everything, and the center of all my actions." The black eyes were so confused that there was a layer of crystal mist. "I...I can't forget him."

"Well. Wingford is indeed a very good man, no matter his appearance, his ability, his magical attainments." Coral said, "but he will never fall in love with anyone, he only loves himself, and he finally rushes The cruel words you said have made the point. He just uses you as a tool."

"You have violated the principles many times for him, done many things against his will, and carried a huge burden."

"But you are different from them. Roy will show mercy if your conscience still exists!"

The name made Lydia's expression extremely complicated.

Glancing at his lifelike magical prosthetic limb.

Hate and gratitude intertwined.

The witcher completely ended her past life.

Pulled her out of the quagmire, but fell into the fog again.

Coral looked at the woman deeply and persuaded politely,

"He's been dead for more than two months, and he's been expelled from the Wizarding Society. He can't take advantage of your heart and ruin your feelings. It's time to let it go, Lydia..."

"Live for yourself in the future." Lydia's black eyes looked at Coral in confusion, and the latter hugged her shoulder gently,

"Kelmohan is a beautiful place, where we can study the many magical mysteries left by Wygoforts."

"With so many children, it doesn't make people lonely."

"Do me a favor now and deal with the mutants and herbs, which will be used when he gets back," Coral said.

"Um."

...

On the side of the broken fortress moat.

The white-faced man standing on the wooden bracket filled the wall with a brick, and the dense square bricks below had already filled most of the defects in the wall.

The woman wearing a thick cotton coat with two sheep's horns on her head handed him a water bottle thoughtfully.

Escal took a sip and gave Pasia a gentle smile.

The six witcher apprentices under the city wall looked at this show of affection eagerly, and their pupils lit up with angry fire.

"Monty, your eyes are going to pop out! Concentrate, speed up, didn't sleep well last night, slow like a turtle?"

"It's not just last night, I haven't slept well for two months in a row, and every night Carl treats him as Vicky and hugs me to death."

"Cough cough!"

"It's not that Kyle Mohan has everything..." Monty's cornflower-colored eyes had thick dark circles under his eyes, and his tone was full of complaints. "In the end, there were only empty stone houses, and the five of us shared a bed."

"This bed has to be made by hand," Chanem added dissatisfied.

"It's not fair, Escal, why did you let us do the coolies?" Arkhamtom waved his wooden trowel excitedly, "We're going to go on a winter tour with everyone!"

"That's right, we're not woodworkers. Our hands should hold the sword and release the seal, not pull the saw." Chanem said, but cooperated with Lloyd on the opposite side, "Zi Lazla" pulled the saw and sawed the logs on the shelf to the point where the sawdust flew.

On the left, Serrit and Oaks are using tools to polish a wooden bed that has begun to take shape and is about two meters long.

That focused demeanor, like an artist who is sculpting a work.

"With two months of hard work, we have redecorated half of our home. Isn't this a proud, proud and fulfilling feat?"

When it comes to this matter, the twelve apprentices under the corner are angry.

They were fooled into being free renovation workers for two months.

Woohoo, all the anticipation before coming here has come to nothing!

"Besides, haven't you watched it many times nearby? You have heard all the stories you should have heard, and worshipped the tomb of the seniors of the Wolf Sect."

Escal shook his head and smiled, carefully placing a triangular brick on a triangular gap, "The Cyclops is dead, only a skeleton remains. The temperature drops and the grizzly bears hibernate, and the human-faced monster bird doesn't come out very often. Xiao Wu The demon was solved by Carl long ago."

"At most, you can only look at the landscape, and it's all boring? Why don't you learn some practical woodworking and mason skills from us."

"I won't be a witcher in the future, and you can eat it together." Serret put away the planer, took out a wood file from the woodworking box beside his feet, and smoothly pushed the shovel perpendicular to the wood grain. Master lines.

"But Roy didn't say that there is still a mountain over there. There is a family of trolls hiding. With a few bottles of vodka, you can climb up and talk to them. I didn't talk to them last time." Carl looked dizzy. The drawings, difficult to figure out, outline a circle in the middle of the log.

"Hey, do you still want to make friends with trolls?" Oaks looked around the twelve apprentices maliciously, "Just your little arms and legs, be careful if they catch them, mix them with small snails and cook them into a pot of meat. A troll is no bigger than a temple guard, with a fist bigger than your head, and a skin so thick that a knife can't penetrate it! A human cub who loves to eat thin skin and tender meat."

"Ah!" Suddenly, the seven elementary school apprentices who had not passed the test looked at each other and shrank their necks.

However, the five freshman witchers sneered at the corners of their mouths, full of fighting spirit.

"You guys are young and inexperienced. If you want to meet trolls, please memorize my paper first." Serret said proudly.

"If you get tired of it," Escal wiped the sweat from his forehead, "Let's go and learn from the energetic knight-lord."

The twelve apprentices shook their heads desperately, with disgust written all over their faces.

"Why don't you leave, Lord Grimm?"

Thinking of the blond men who harassed, challenged, and repeatedly brainwashed them with the Knight's Creed in the past two months, their little faces turned into bitter gourds.

They have never seen a guy who is obviously serious and righteous, but still has such a thick face, as if he has fixed himself on the moral high ground, and loves a stalker.

...

The mountain behind Kermohan, the side of the steep path on the edge of the cliff.

Looking down from the decaying wooden fence, you can see green fields covered with shallow snow, swaying pine forests, and misty hillsides in the distance.

A wide river flows into the canyon between the two mountains, and the gurgling sound of the river can be faintly heard.

"Ah!"

The blond knight sneezed suddenly and rubbed his nose.

"I swear by the honor of a knight, someone must be slandering me behind my back."

He muttered to himself, looking at the witcher ahead,

"Your Excellency Cohen, is there really a legendary lady in the lake in this river? Let's fight every day for the past two months and perform exquisite swordsmanship."

"Why doesn't the lady in the lake never get interested and don't come out to see us?"

The tall witcher with three-color pupils and short whiskers is climbing up a small dirt slope on the edge of the cliff as nimbly as a civet cat.

Among the trees in the river.

More than 30 children can be seen laughing and playing, picking herbs, painting, reciting poetry, fishing, and even hide-and-seek.

There were bursts of laughter.

"According to Roy, your experience has perfectly met the requirements of a person with five virtues." Cohen folded his collar in the cold wind and pursed his mouth concealedly, "Just a little..."

"a little?"

"Well... As a guest, you must first restrain your inner impulse, stop pestering everyone to duel day and night, and stop harassing those children." Cohen turned his head and said to him seriously, " They are witchers, not knights, and cannot be easily brainwashed."

"Uh..." Grim squeezed the hilt of the sword, and stepped up to walk side by side with him, "I swear by the honor of a knight! This is an old problem that I have cultivated since I was a child, and I can't change it for a while. After all, these two After many defeats in the month, I feel that my martial arts have improved quite a bit."

If the knight did not use the ancestral Horcrux, he would go back and forth with the apprentices.

"I desperately need a reference, such as Cassirer. Your Excellency Cohen, what happened to him, why did he go to Skellige for so long without a response?"

"Maybe King Bran has already chopped off the head of the Nilfgaardian knight..." Cohen smiled at him, "Don't be nervous, it's just a joke, maybe Cassirer has found a new purpose in life on the island and is so happy that he doesn't want to come back! "

...

Little Skellige Island.

In the courtyard of King Bran's castle.

Dressed in a black leather apron and holding a short-haired body brush under his gloves, Cassirer cleaned the last black horse in the stable, patted the mane of its slender neck, and a wry smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

After he made a request to see Ciri, Geralt resolutely refused, and the witcher could not forgive himself, the person who kidnapped Ciri.

But when he was desperate, another witcher, Roy, gave him a chance.

This performance made Cassirer still fresh in his memory, with sharp eyes and a trace of trust, as if he had known him for a long time.

With the help of Roy, Cassirer successfully came to Little Skellige Island. Unfortunately, after failing to meet the little princess of his dreams, he was imprisoned by King Bran for a week on the charge of "Nilfgaard spy".

Later, for some unknown reason, he was released, and inexplicably became a servant in the castle, and was assigned a coolie job as a groom. Feed, brush the horses of the king of the archipelago, and sleep in the pristine, stench-ridden little house by the stable.

As an elite knight in Nilfgaard, taking care of horses is a compulsory course for him.

It's a pity that on weekdays, he can't even see the face of the housekeeper, let alone the little princess.

Cassirer clearly felt that someone was watching him.

But he took it with confidence, and soon after following Grim on the road, he was no longer a Nilfgaardian spy, but a humble sinner seeking redemption.

Today is different from the past.

In the early morning, the atmosphere was different.

The cooks and servants in the castle looked nervous and expectant.

It was as if the sun was about to pierce through the thick clouds before the storm, and it was like a day of ice and snow.

The dark horse stuck out his tongue playfully and licked the groom's neck.

He touched the horse's neck and stared at the upper floors of the castle.

"What's going on in that house, and who's the big guy?"

...

On the second floor of the castle, outside a closed door, a circle of anxious people stood in the corridor.

King Bran in a thick bearskin cloak, Queen Birna with rosy rouge on her face, and her son Svanridge with a delicate beard.

Kratz Anklat and a pair of children.

Black and white haired witcher.

And Ciri, dressed like a little lady in a light blue princess dress - muttering, fists clenched and unclenched, circling the corridors, green eyes like a wind-blown forest , full of worry.

"Stop turning, Ciri, I'm dizzy and angry!" Kratz Ann Clayt grabbed his niece's braid with his rough hand, and his son Halma touched it. Touching the scar on his face, he joked,

"Ciri, it's not you who gave birth to a child, it's useless for you to be so anxious!"

"Humph!" The little girl hummed softly, her slender fingers made a crisp sound, and Halma's left hand suddenly covered her mouth uncontrollably.

"Ciri, you are good, but don't use magic on your brother." Kerris pleaded.

"Humph! Grandma is so old, you didn't hear her screaming in pain just now."

"And I finally have an aunt, and they both have to be safe!"

Ciri walked over and took the big hand of the white-haired witcher on the other side of the corridor.

Halma breathed a sigh of relief, and lowered her head with a sad expression. After Ciri and Ye Naifa learned magic, they could cure herself with one hand. How could she be her wife in the future?

"Ciri, they're right." Geralt's dark cat eyes stared at the door, touched the girl's silver hair, and said comfortingly, "Calanser has already had a fertility experience...and his physical fitness has always been good, With Ye's care..."

Having said that, the corner of Bai Lang's mouth couldn't help but smile.

He never imagined that there would be such a day when a dignified sorceress turned into a midwife to deliver a baby to Her Royal Highness a queen.

However, she is also quite old, and it is not surprising that she knows some medical knowledge for women.

The little girl pursed her lips and nodded.

"Ciri is still calm, but your Excellency..." Svanridge turned his eyes to the left side of the door. The black-haired witcher sat on a short stool by the corridor and looked up at the closed door from time to time. He strained his face and pricked up his ears to listen to the screams inside.

Then he covered his face and took a deep breath, stood up and paced anxiously.

Tension loomed.

That demeanor was like a father who was anxiously waiting for the birth of his child outside the delivery room.

The expressions of several Skellige royals looking at Roy were quite complicated. They had long heard from Calanthe that the witcher had entered into a law of accident with the child in his womb.

If it weren't for the Skellige people who believed in goddesses and fate.

This daring fellow has long since been ripped apart!

"Wow-wow-"

There was a loud and clear cry in the delivery room.

Everyone in the corridor swarmed up in an instant and surrounded the wooden door. Ciri stood at the front, his eyes staring like a pair of green lanterns, and he held his breath.

"Tattoo..."

The sound of anxious footsteps.

"crunch-"

Door open.

before the birthing bed.

Yennefer's pale, tapered face, dressed in soft, comfortable, clean white clothes, showed deep shock, and his black curly hair swayed lightly at the back of his head.

Violet eyes stared at the newborn baby in Calanthe's arms, full of surprises——

Diffuse water vapor, and in the firelight of the fireplace.

The former Queen of Sintra, with the brilliance of motherhood on her face, looked lovingly at a small and lovely baby girl in her arms——

Freshly cut umbilical cord, purple skin with white sebum.

"Haha! My good brother-in-law! You have done a great job! Easter's bloodline has finally been continued!" King Bran stared at the baby girl with turbid eyes, smiling until he could not close his mouth, a pair of furry hands nervously covering his thick clothes Wipe up, "Bless Freya, this chubby little physique weighs at least nine pounds, and is worthy of being the daughter of the sea. Keris, what if the nickname of Skellige's Little Sparrowhawk is given to her in the future?"

Keris was smiling with freckles all over her face, and she was obviously fascinated by the little guy and kept nodding her head.

Calanthe turned his head and glanced at the crowd, only to nod gratefully, so weak that he didn't even have the strength to speak.

"This little guy has red lips and white teeth," Queen Bierna giggled and praised with radiant eyes, "I must be a great beauty in the future!"

"Wuwu, aren't you talking nonsense, my aunt..." Ciri's face was wrinkled, she was surprised and confused, and she muttered indiscernibly, "Why is it so ugly, the skin is purple and covered with white dirty stuff."

"Ugly girl!" Yennefa glared at Ciri like a hen who was protecting her calf, "Even if it is a god, it is impossible to be as beautiful as a god at birth."

"When you just left mother's belly, you were much uglier than this little guy!"

"Ah? Don't scare me!"

"Get out of the way, Ciri, let me kiss this little cutie."

"Kratz! How dirty your hands are, don't use your beard. It smells like alcohol, salted fish, and the overnight meal. I want you to kiss it. This child is sick!"

"Skelliger's children are not so squeamish!"

"Wow-wow-"

"See, you ugly bastard made the little guy cry."

Geralt frowned, his eyes wandering between Ye and Kratz, always feeling that they were a little too familiar.

"Hey, let me come, I just drank strong alcohol and disinfected." King Bran rubbed his big, rough hands like a bear.

"Wow-wow-"

"Sorry, Your Majesty Bran, she doesn't seem to like you very much either. Geralt, don't stare so hard, be careful to scare her!"

"Ciri, don't poke your aunt in the face! Stay away from her, watch out for the chain reaction!"

Yennefer's frantic warnings echoed through the delivery room.

The atmosphere suddenly became lively.

"Master Roy..." Calanthe suddenly turned around and glanced at the demon hunter who was far away with a look of anticipation and fear on his face,

"Why are you standing there, Roy, I didn't hear her calling you!" Ye Yan looked like a protector.

"Uh, I..." The young witcher rushed up when he heard the call, staring directly at the ugly duckling with wrinkled skin and bare head, an indescribable sense of wonder arises spontaneously.

Joy, and fetters.

A secret but close connection appeared between him and this little baby girl.

Obviously he is not yet eighteen years old.

But blood is connected with her.

The Old Blood began to cheer and resonate softly, and the witcher felt a little drunk.

Looking dazed.

"Master Roy..." Calanthe raised his sweaty face, and a smile flashed in his emerald eyes, "Can you name this child?"

"What?!" Everyone in the bedroom was shocked.

A royal lady who asked a witcher to name her.

What was Calanthe thinking?

"Grandma, why did you ask Roy to name her aunt? Can't I come?" Ciri pouted unwillingly,

"Brother and sister, you have to think carefully, Master Roy has helped you a lot, but..." King Bran comforted softly.

The Queen and the Kratz family shook their heads.

"Everyone, this is the will of fate, and Goddess Freya will not go against it!"

Calanthe said in a low voice, she was clearly determined, and she held the baby to the witcher with a firm look.

Strange to say.

As soon as the little girl got close to Roy, she stopped crying, blinked her big green eyes, giggled, and stretched out her little fat hand to him!

Emerald Castle's eyes flashed with nostalgia.

Apparently they met for the first time.

The baby girl seemed to have known him for a long time, and trusted the witcher in front of her without reservation.

Roy's left hand passed through the newborn's back involuntarily, covering her head, neck and part of her back, while her right hand passed through the other side, covering her hips and waist, and carefully lifted her up.

The fire flickered.

Suddenly, the baby girl became the girl in the vision that the witcher had seen—

With a thin veil, his face is blurred, his body is petite, he has black hair, and his pupils are as green as a virgin forest.

The blood of the ancients, which was restless and boiling, calmed down.

Thanks to her unconditional trust, the ancient blood in the two bodies blended like water and milk.

Roy obviously felt that she could easily mobilize the ancient blood in her body to strengthen the power of time and space.

"She's called Elena,"

The ancient meaning of beauty and luck.

The voice fell.

The invisible chains linked the heartbeats of the two.

The witcher shuddered, and the bond between him and the Daughter of Accident deepened.

Close your eyes, in addition to the position, you can even clearly feel the other person's breathing, strong heartbeat, and physical health.

"Eleanor, do you like this name?" Calanthe quickly hugged her little daughter and touched her chest gently with her fingers.

"Cuckoo..."

"My dear little daughter, you will be called Elene Fiona Tursec Leanlen from now on..."

"Giggle..." The baby girl's cheerful and lively laughter filled the bedroom.

The crowd couldn't help but smile.

"Master Roy, thank you for your trouble!" Calanthe smiled at the witcher, "I named her, and you should take care of her and protect her safety in the future."

Roy has a warm bond in his heart, a smile appeared on the corner of his mouth, and he said aloud, word by word,

"Elene, my accidental daughter, my destiny, I will keep you safe forever!"

"Swear by Roy the Witcher!"

...

End of volume.