Witcher's Atelier

I don't know when it started, but the misty forest was covered with drizzle.

"Young man, woof, you know, you are in a very dangerous situation now, only me and my friends can save you." The black dog opened his mouth, as if to blackmail someone.

His voice was a deep and thick male voice, and the breed was a huge Newfoundland dog.

Blinking his eyes, Victor let go of the stirring stick in his hand, "Merritelli's beard! A talking dog appeared in front of me, why am I not surprised?

Well! After seeing the unkillable gardener, a talking dog is really nothing.

And you have a companion... Let me guess, maybe a talking cat?"

"Ahem, meow! Brave witcher, please forgive Black's rude verbal offense, I promise he has no ill intentions..."

The second creature that appeared in front of the tent was a short-haired cat with a pitch-black body, "We haven't talked to others for a long time, and we almost forgot the basic etiquette of conversation."

Her voice was a gentle and intellectual mezzo-soprano, and the hair around her eyes was lighter in color, and she looked like she was wearing a pair of square glasses.

"I'm sorry to bother you. I'm Minerva, and he's Black. We should be considered... pets of the Everec family. May I ask your name?"

It's a rare experience to introduce myself to a polite cat. "Victor, Victor Corleone. An ordinary witcher from Bell Town east of Zerecania."

"Nice to meet you! Mr. Victor," Minerva's cat eyes sparkled. "Because time is limited, please allow me to get straight to the point.

Not long ago, we witnessed your battle with the gardener in the garden. Although your skills are better than his, you obviously can't really defeat your opponent.

For this reason, Black and I hope to provide some information to help you defeat the "Gatekeeper".

...Please don't get me wrong, we really want to help you. We hope you can meet the mistress smoothly and end the evil curse that has lasted for many years."

Minerva's words reminded him of his memory. Victor touched his nose and hummed tentatively.

"A crooked man walked a crooked mile.

Holding a crooked sixpence, he came to a crooked crossroads,

buyed a crooked cat for the woman, and a crooked dog...

plus a crooked gardener, and they lived together in a crooked mansion."

Hearing the tune and lyrics, Blake quickly changed from sitting to standing, with his ears and tail erect, his chest and teeth bared, and his hair standing upside down.

Minerva next to him was no less anxious, her back arched, her hair standing up, her ears flat, her pupils dilated, and she instantly entered a state of alert.

The poem Victor sang was the ballad that Gaunt O'Dimm sang outside the Garin Manor not long ago. At that time, he felt that there was a deep meaning in it. Now from their reactions, it seems that it describes Ogierd and his manor.

"You actually know this ballad, woof, have you seen the pure evil?"

"Pure evil!? Mr. Black, are you referring to Master Mirror Gaunt O'Dimm?"

"Oh no, please don't mention that evil name, meow, not even his nickname!"

"Uh... is it that serious, ma'am, it's just a name?"

"No, you don't understand how terrible he is. When you call his name, he can hear it, the only difference is whether he is willing to respond."

Minerva's voice is firm and sincere, this is a trustworthy person.

Although Victor is sure that he is not set up by the Master Mirror, he also admits that there is no need to refute the other party's words, and even creates a tense atmosphere.

"Thank you for your advice, ma'am. Let's put it this way, I have indeed seen 'the existence that cannot be named', and I visited the manor on his behalf to meet Ogierd's request."

"Aha! That's it. I understand, Minerva, it's time for that guy to pay his debt." The black dog's tone was full of gloating.

The black cat shook his head humanely, "Mr. Black, don't choose the wrong target to place your anger on. It's not him who really trapped us here, but 'the one who can't be named'.

As for Olgierd von Everec, everyone has his own destiny to face, and we don't need to hate or ridicule him."

"Okay, okay, you are always right, dear professor. But you must also admit that I have the right to refuse to give him mercy.

I don't sympathize with Olgierd, just as I don't sympathize with myself. Woof!"

"..., meow."

Victor was very interested in listening to the imaginative exchanges between cats and dogs, but he had to get back to the topic in the end, "Anyway, since you two are here to help, I'm all ears."

"Hey! Wait...you just believe us so easily? Are you a fool?" The witcher's straightforwardness made Black a little difficult to accept.

Victor shrugged his shoulders, "Didn't you just say that time is tight? In this case, let's skip the unnecessary temptations, ladies and gentlemen, and directly bring up the real stuff."

Victor's casualness comes from self-confidence.

He was confident that no matter whether Blake and Minerva's visit was well-intentioned or malicious, the result would not make any difference to him. The incredible alchemy was a cure for all kinds of dissatisfaction.

The cat and dog looked at each other and reached a certain consensus silently. Minerva nodded, and then Blake spoke first.

"Listen, young man. The gardener is not an ordinary creature. In terms of classification, it is called a remnant in your world.

As far as I know, witchers can boil "residue oil" and apply it on weapons to dramatically increase the lethality.

If you don't know the formula, I can tell you-"

"-dog fat and mistletoe." Victor raised the corners of his mouth, smiling maliciously, "In fact, I am worried that the dog fat reserves are insufficient. Mr. Black's appearance is just in time. Maybe you are willing to donate some?"

Although it seems like a joke, the witcher's smile is too obscene, making the black dog involuntarily step back a few steps, "Woof woof!"

"Mr. Victor, please don't make such a joke," the black cat took over the topic calmly, "Obviously you already know about the sword oil. Then maybe you also found that the gardener has the characteristics of the undead system and can absorb the undead to restore energy.

To really defeat him, you need the help of a spellcaster. Meow! "

Apart from the last unconscious meow, as Blake jokingly called Minerva "Professor", this polite lady exudes a certain quality of serious teaching, and people naturally put away unnecessary teasing when talking to her.

Even Victor is no exception, "Respectable lady, I did observe that the gardener has the characteristics of the undead system, and I also know that it can absorb the undead, but this is not a problem.

Just as I choose to believe in you, please believe me too. There is no need to seek help from the caster, I can solve it myself!"

The cat and dog looked at each other in silence.

The confidence revealed in the young man's words is full of infectiousness, which makes people want to believe it unconsciously, but this conflicts with their common sense-ordinary witchers can't do anything to the gatekeeper.

And if this Victor is not ordinary, then he doesn't need help, and the visit of the two becomes self-conceited.

The atmosphere was awkward for a while.

Fortunately, not long after, Blake suddenly stared at the emotional and moist dog eyes, "Alice is awake! Minerva, the dog walking time is over, we should go back! "

After saying that, he turned and ran towards the manor.

Unlike the irritable black dog Blake, the black cat Minerva stood up and nodded gracefully, "Sorry! It's really rude, but we have to leave in a hurry.

Finally, it may still be redundant, but please allow me to remind you that the place where you are camping now is the territory of a powerful "deer-headed spirit" and it is very likely to be attacked at night.

Personal advice: If you want to rest, it will be safer to camp close to the wall of the manor. "

After saying that, without waiting for Victor's response, Minerva turned around nimbly and ran back to the manor.

She was also in a hurry, so she didn't notice that when she said the name of the deer-headed spirit, the witcher's eyes were bright, shining with excitement and greed.

...

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