Witcher's Atelier

In the afternoon, we were in the forest behind Vergen City, near the Scoia'tael camp.

The sword blades collided with each other, and the sound of gold and iron echoed in the forest.

"You can't win!" Iorveth narrowed his eyes and turned the sword.

"Can't win?" Victor. Corleone repeated, "No way. I was just thinking about how to win!"

There was a fierce battle between elves and witchers.

"It's not bad." The collision caused them to take a step back, and Iorveth gasped, "It's not bad, Wick. You are indeed a witcher, with extraordinary strength and speed, but purely in terms of swordsmanship, you still have a lot of skills. A long way to go.”

"The tone is not small."

Victor took a deep breath. The fight just now made him understand that the chance of winning this duel was not high. The old elf's physical fitness can resist him. Not only is he extremely fast, but he is also surprisingly strong. However, if the opponent wants to defeat him, it cannot be done in a short time. The "lightning reflex" is enough to cover up many shortcomings.

Now he was competing in swordsmanship, so he didn't use potions. Otherwise, with the addition of bombs and seals, few ordinary people could defeat him. And since it was a matter of swordsmanship...the witcher made up his mind.

He turned his sword and took a stance. It began to circle around the elf, moving faster and faster, forcing him to keep turning in place.

"I just tried it last time at the floating port," Iorveth said. "These tricks are of no use to me. Haven't you learned your lesson?"

Suddenly Victor quickened his pace, spinning and attacking with sweeping movements. The movement of his sword swing is gentle and smooth, but the power of the strike is swift and heavy.

Iorveth turned around, turned the sword in his hand, "Cang!"

"This trick doesn't work for me." He spat, "I'm tired of it too!" He took two steps to shorten the distance.

"Do you want to dance too?" Victor jumped forward and attacked again.

Iorveth twisted on the spot to dodge, and jumped up. His left leg landed firmly on the ground, and he immediately thrust out a sword.

But before his sword could connect with the King's Guardian, Victor stepped around him and struck out with an unhesitating horizontal swing. The elbow is bent to an abnormal degree, and the angle at which the sword is drawn is extremely tricky.

A little panicked, but Iorveth successfully blocked it and used the inertia to swing the sword from the opposite side.

Victor saw his movements clearly and bent his knees slightly to avoid the sharp blade by a hair. Then he quickly suppressed his opponent, slashing and slashing with the steel sword. But Iorveth, who had stabilized his position, used fake moves to deceive the young man.

The witcher, who was knocked out of the way, almost lost his balance. Although he relied on lightning reflexes to avoid it, the elf's sword still hit him on the shoulder and split the padding of his thick jacket.

Noticing his opponent's hesitation for a fraction of a second, the experienced Iorveth certainly would not miss this opportunity, and then attacked his right hand, fast and hard. At this moment, Victor suddenly punched out with his left fist, hitting the opponent's side arm hard, which in turn caused the elf to stumble and lose momentum.

The next second, the witcher stretched his right arm to the limit and struck out with a decisive blow...!

…

After a while, the two exhausted and sweaty men lay on the grass panting.

"I'm making rapid progress...especially the gorgeous sword dance at the end, which is completely different from your usual style. If I'm not mistaken, it should be White Wolf's Pirouette?"

"Hmm... it's Pirouette. He used this trick to chop off Lorendo's head at the floating port."

"Haha, it's really amazing. Last time we practiced it was just a show, but today it can be used in actual combat."

Without responding to the elf's praise, Victor knew full well that he was still just a showman. Without the support of Corleone's flaming red-eyed killing instinct, it would be impossible to execute this move in a crowd, and people would die just as they were spinning around.

Deep secrets were involved, so the witcher didn't want to talk more about this matter, so he took the initiative to change the subject, "By the way, didn't we already accept you at the meeting, so why don't you move to the city?"

Iorveth laughed loudly, "Hahaha! It's not that simple. It's already very difficult not to drive away the elves. Let the Scoia'tael live in the city, and all humans will have sleepless nights! Besides, it's not a bad thing to be vigilant. Let them enter the city during the day. For activities, it’s better to take back the camp area at night.”

The gap between humans and non-humans cannot be eliminated with a few promises. Victor decided to change the subject again.

"I didn't realize that you are actually a bastard who values ​​sex over friends."

He was referring to Iorveth's report about the "Mist Time Limit" yesterday. He was clearly told not to tell Saskia, but he turned around and sold the witcher cleanly, and even asked the dragon slayer to come to the door in person. consult. Fortunately, the saint did not question the sorceress in the morning, otherwise Philipba might have looked bad on her when she returned home.

"..." The elf was silent for a moment, "I'm sorry, but this is considered a major military situation. You can choose to conceal it, but if I don't tell it, it will be irresponsible for the revolution."

"If I understand your position, if I'm really angry, I won't come to you for sword practice. You're a bastard who values ​​sex over friends!" Opportunities are rare, and not being angry doesn't mean you won't fight him.

"Can we not call it that?"

"Of course, how about the guy who forgets his friends after seeing sex?"

“…….”

Faced with Victor's malicious joke, Iorveth refused to respond, and the two of them just lay quietly.

…

Summer is here, the air in Phytonjing is fresh, and the chirping of insects and birds is endless.

"Actually, I envy you." Putting his hands behind his head, Iorveth said nonchalantly.

There are so many things to envy. I don’t know what he is talking about, but Victor looks sideways.

"Maybe it's because of the mist rescue the day before yesterday... In the past few days, Saskia has often asked me about you after discussing military affairs. Where are you from? Have you really slain a dragon? What is your personality like? What are your usual interests? Hobby?"

Speaking of this, Iorveth turned his head and looked at the witcher, "I have known the Saint for a while. She has never asked me what I 'hate' to eat, and yesterday, she specially brought sweetbread pudding. Look for you……"

Victor turned his head to avoid the elf's complicated eyes, stared at the treetops and whistled as if nothing had happened.

Unfortunately, Iorveth didn't mean to shut up. His voice was calm, "I know it's not love, but Saskia really values ​​you, and this kind of respect is very rare, so I envy you very much."

The Saint of Aedirn, the Dragon Slayer Saskia, 'deliberately' brought a piece of offal pudding to tease her. It would be a lie to say she was unhappy, but anything she said at this time was like showing off, so the witcher kept quiet.

There was a cool breeze in the shade of the trees, Catherine's eagle screamed in the sky, and the sound of Angoulaine and Lanxi's laughter floated in the distance. The two girls who were hunting were back.

…

Biography "Selchik of Guleta"

In the Second War of Aedirn, the commander of the Aedian garrison. Selchik repelled the invaders several times during the war. Unfortunately, despite his extraordinary virtues and unyielding courage, like all the soldiers who died in the offensive and defensive battles of Vergen, he could not escape his fate.

…

Returning to the city with Angouleme in the evening, the witcher entertained Dandelion, Zoltan, Yalpen and his companions for dinner and wine at the "Black Cauldron". Adhering to many friends and many paths is Victor. The secret to Corleone's invincibility.

To be fair, Heishenguo is not a very good dining environment. There are boxers, gamblers, and arm-wrestling contestants in the corner. There are all kinds of tricks. The noisy swearing around is like a torrential river, and there are all kinds of hard-to-find things. A wonderful idiom to explain, which greatly affects appetite.

But everyone here has become accustomed to it, for example──

"Bite his balls!"

"Hit him on the bridge of the nose!"

This belongs to the circle of black boxers.

"Auntie, auntie, can you hurry up? Come and pour auntie a cup of butterbeer!"

"Grand Slam!? How dare you call it a Grand Slam? I tell you that if you succeed today, I will eat this table on the spot!"

This is of course the card game.

"Ah... I really want to exercise. Where was the cow yesterday?"

"You remember it wrong, it's obviously a sow!"

..., and occasionally, there will be unintelligible conversations.

In short, at Victor's table, there are Yalpan, the commander of the dwarf army, and Zoltan, the deputy commander, who of course want to exchange information.

After the invited witchers toasted, the champion of Angoulême took two mouthfuls of Vizima and couldn't wait to ask Yarpan, "How is the training going? Are the recruits ready to fight?"

"They are like the cousins ​​in the technical academy, they are better at being stabbed than stabbing people! Saskia's army is full of guys who are better at grabbing their own dicks than holding weapons. Fortunately, they are still very motivated. In my case With the help of Zoltan, you will soon catch up, learn to let go of the second, and catch what is more important!”

Victor said casually, "Can you not mention the second child? And believe me, Henselt's regular army cannot be defeated by fighting spirit alone."

"Oh! Then we'll show you what an army that can only win but never lose is capable of. Victor, we have no choice. Henselt is a complete racist, and Freud must not fall into his hands. Come on." Zoltan said seriously.

Victor had no doubt about this. Henselt's racial tendencies meant that Vergen would resist to the death. When he was about to extend the topic, Dandelion answered in time.

"Please, gentlemen, do we want to waste such a beautiful night on unknown debates? Have a good day! Are the rumors true? Did Saskia really kill a dragon?"

Realizing that the topic aroused everyone's interest, Yalpan knocked on the table, "I'm not very clear about dragon slaying, but everyone says so. If you want to know the details, I'll let Bighen come back from business next year. He came to tell the details. It is said that he was an eyewitness. And shit-the prince even awarded her a medal in Vengerberg, so it seems to be true."

The bad joke "Shit Egg" instantly sparked laughter in the whole room, and it wasn't just the witcher table. The dwarf's loud voice made people at several tables laugh.

The relaxed and lively atmosphere continued until everyone started playing cards, which became more heated.

Recalling that when he lived here a few years ago, he was drunk like this every night. Victor was in a very happy mood. When he came back from going to the toilet, he found that in the black boxing circle, nobles were fighting with commoners.

Noticing that the person in charge of counting the bets was still the same person he knew, Victor approached and said, "Hey! Sheridan, when did the nobles start fighting with the common people?"

The citizen with his head wrapped in a turban and wearing a velvet coat shrugged, "Ah, it's Victor, welcome back. This is a good time, a sign of the new era - Saskia treats civilians and nobles equally. Once you let the dogs sleep in the house, they won't sleep in the dog house anymore. But I don't care. The point is that fighting makes money. Are you going to fight again?"

A few years ago, the boy briefly dominated the "Black God Pot" arena, and this joyful atmosphere coupled with a little tipsiness, "If the specifications are the same as before, help me find some powerful guys to come up!"

After saying that the winner was decided on the field, Victor twisted his neck and came on to face the winner - a muscular human soldier.

Sheridan's passionate roar came from the side, "Place your bets! Everyone! Coming up now is Victor Corleone. This young man is the most capable fighter I have ever seen. He once knocked over several plowing horses with his bare hands. The money earned from fighting is so great that even the nobles are jealous!”

Hearing the long-lost boast, Angoulin left the dining table and approached the ring. Victor handed her his coat for safekeeping, revealing the Yinglong tattoos on his back.

The cheers around him suddenly became louder.

The cheerful host extended his voice, "And his opponent is──"

─Someone held his shoulder to stop him from introducing his opponent. Sheldan looked back and found that it was Selchik's younger brother. Sir Sigri, he wears a noble's big-brimmed hat, a tit tail feather, and a gorgeous shoulder-padded jacket.

When he saw the guy sitting next to him during the meeting the day before yesterday, who was both a noble and a warrior, he came out to interrupt. Victor walked to the ring and listened to their conversation.

"Listen, you are making a big mistake! Only I can defeat a warrior like 'Duwaqin'!" said the noble.

"Sir Sigri, it's rare to see you here, but you think too much. This is just a fight. I remember you always said that fighting is an outdated civilian casual game!"

"A true knight fights a true gentleman in the presence of an elegant lady!"

"Yes, I will always remember Selchik's heroic appearance in the jousting competition."

"My brother has shown his heroic appearance on many occasions. Oh, what's happened to the world now! A knight has to fight with civilians to show his bravery! But fortunately, this witcher appeared in front of me... Although his bloodline is not comparable to mine, his martial arts skills are very high, and his honor is spread throughout the country. Maybe when he falls to the ground in defeat, everyone will understand that I am not just Selchik's younger brother. The well-known Sigri, every witcher’s nightmare!”

After speaking, he raised his chin high and looked directly at the witcher with his nostrils, "Victor of Keldra, I want to challenge you. The bet is two bags of gold. Believe me, Sigri of Guleta will not Feel free to declare war on the old serf."

Facing this proud challenger, many thoughts flashed through Victor's mind. From his words, it could be felt that he was proud of his brother, but also lived in his shadow. The heroic Selchik must have put great pressure on Sigre to make him behave in such an irrational manner.

So Duvacin smiled and said, "Believe me, although Victor of Keldro has no habit of beating children, if Sigri of Guleta insists on doing so, I will fulfill his wish."

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