Witcher's Atelier

Chapter 23 Three Lives Three Worlds Ten Miles of Mouth Cannon

The elf Iorveth, the commander of the guerrilla "Vrihed Brigade" who made great contributions to the establishment of the Southern Empire during the Second Nilfgaardian War.

Without the Verihed Brigade to sabotage transportation, disrupt defenses, and provide intelligence behind the northern countries, the "Nilfgaard Empire" would not have been able to achieve such a brilliant victory in the early stage.

However, in the later stages, after the "Battle of Brenner", the situation of victory and defeat between the north and the south was reversed. In order to retain the fruits of victory, the Emperor of the Southern Empire and the Elf Queen agreed to remove the thirty-two "Verihed Brigade" who were hated by the northern countries. The officers were designated as "war criminals" and were bound and handed over to the northern countries to be hanged.

Although Iorveth escaped by chance...but he and the remaining Scoia'tael in the north have also lost their allegiance and goal of struggle. What is left in their empty bodies may only be the soul of revenge against mankind.

Angouleme was on the verge of losing strength during the whole day's running, and he only relied on his will to hold on. But for an opponent of Iorveth's magnitude, will was of little significance.

The sword he was wielding seemed light, but when faced with Angouleme's two-handed sword slashing, it was effortless to parry it with one hand.

Under the complete suppression of strength, speed, and skill, her sword was knocked down within a few rounds. Then the left skull was struck by the sword hilt. After being hit, he spun around twice in the air. Fell into Victor's arms.

The surrounding elves cheered like thunder.

He hugged Angouleme and squatted down to check. Sure enough, the injury was exactly the same as that of the female elf, but the injury was more serious than the female elf. The young man raised his head and glared at the elf butcher.

"Are you angry? I was also angry when I found Toruviel in the bushes. If you are not convinced, why don't you pick up the sword and let's play with it?" Iorveth showed a generous smile, standing in a natural and casual posture, and gestured with his left hand. Make an insulting gesture popular in dwarven circles.

Taking a deep breath, Victor shook his head to signal not to fight him. He took out the healing potion and held Angouleme's neck to let her drink it: "Why are you chasing us? We have no hostility towards the Scoia'tael from the beginning. Everything is It was an accident. I thought we made it clear."

The elf turned his sword around and sheathed the sword in his right hand. Then, seemingly defenseless, he walked up to Victor nonchalantly, pulled out the left sword nailed to the ground, and pointed it at the young man's throat: "I thought... I saw my Scar, you should know that you are dead."

"Following the ancient laws, witchers remain neutral. We do not get involved in worldly disputes. Even the Queen of Ayn Sheidi must admit this. Your pursuit of us is unreasonable." Facing the sword, Victor acted neither humble nor arrogant, because from the beginning of his observation to now, he has seen the ending of the conversation.

If it was as high as 80% before, now it is a near miss. The other party is a qualified guerrilla leader, so he is sure that as long as the topic leads to a certain direction, he and Angoulin will not die.

Iorveth said contemptuously: "You are not a witcher yet, human. And as one of them, you will pay the price for the evil deeds your race has done to us."

The young man was confident and responded to the contempt with sarcasm: "What evil deed? Are you talking about killing businessmen who have no power to fight back? Or burning the food that farmers have worked hard to grow?"

"Haha, although I don't need to explain to you, I will tell you the reason this time. It's because the merchants and the nobles teamed up to set up a trading trap to kill us, and the cunning farmers poisoned the food sold at high prices."

Others might not pay attention to this statement, but Victor has pity and contempt for this greedy era of pride and prejudice, so he doesn't think Iorveth is lying. Of course, he didn't believe that Iorveth was so pure that he would react passively every time.

"In this case, you have no reason to kill us. Why do you want to annihilate the true goodwill? Why do you turn possible friends into enemies? Has the primitive jungle life already worn away your sanity?"

This argument was quite powerful and made Iorveth silent for a while.

Then he asked, "Is what you wrote on that note true?"

The young man said: "It's true. Except that I am still an apprentice and not an official witcher, every word is true.

She would only be in a coma for three days, and that coma was good for the injury. "

"Okay," he said, pointing to Angoulin, "this woman is even, she will survive.

But you──will be sentenced to death for setting a trap that caused serious injuries to five elves and mild disabilities for the rest of their lives.

For the sake of laying gravel to reduce the lethality of the trap, I can let you choose to die without bleeding. "

When the topic reached this point, Victor joked in a relaxed tone: "It's surprising. Has the Scoia'tael's logistics force weakened to this point? I thought such a minor injury could be fully recovered."

The elf said coldly: "The Scoia'tael have fallen to this point only because of you humans!"

"Hahaha, the person who betrayed the 'Vyrichard Brigade' and the Scoia'tael could be 'white flames dancing on the enemy's graves' or 'valley daisies', but it would never be me, Victor Corleone.

Iorveth, have you fallen so low that you can’t even hate the right person? "Thanks to Lambert for accompanying him throughout the winter, the young man's poisonous tongue spanned twelve fairy tale years and returned to glory.

"Shut up!" This needle of sorrowful venom cut into the bones, and the impotent rage made the elf's whole body tremble slightly. His face was covered with frost, and the blade pointed at Victor's throat was about to move.

Although he didn't mind torturing the other party's mind for a longer time, Victor was also afraid of going too far, so he changed the topic at the right time: "What if I can completely cure them? The kind without disability and sequelae."

Gradually.

The frost slowly thawed.

Iorveth calmed down and showed a hint of a smile.

"No wonder you are so confident. You are proficient in traps, poisons, and treatments. Are you an apprentice of the Flying Lion School?"

"No!" The boy pulled out the Wolf School badge from his chest. "I am from the Wolf School, majoring in swordsmanship, sword oil, and bombs."

After a moment of silence, the elf said: "Forget it, Victor, no matter which school you are from, as long as you can completely cure my compatriots, then... you are our guest. Of course, you know what will happen if you deceive me."

Victor shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

The elf sheathed his left-handed sword and raised his voice to say, "Come and bring the stretcher. We have two guests, one of whom needs the help of the stretcher."

Then he looked at Victor and asked gently, "Guests? ... Right?"

Putting down Angouleme, Victor silently picked up his and the girl's weapons. He handed the hilt forward to the elf's hand.

"Yes, guests, both of you.

I will prove my kindness when my safety is guaranteed."

Iorveth took the sword with both hands, "I promise that you are as safe as at home now."

New author and new book, thank you for your recommendation votes and encouragement.

Tap the screen to use advanced tools Tip: You can use left and right keyboard keys to browse between chapters.

You'll Also Like