Witcher's Atelier
Chapter 52: Flying in the night sky like a dragon (Part 1)
After opening the tent door and entering the tent, the elf scout said: "Yayiwen, I sent it to the edge of the forest. They have already left." Then he stayed where he was.
Yayiwen, who was sitting at the table writing a letter, realized that his subordinate had not finished speaking about his intention to leave. He raised his head and looked at him, "What's wrong? There is doubt written on your face."
The scout stroked his chest and bowed, "Yes, Yayiwen, I'm curious why you are so easy to talk to them? Even if they are friends of Floating Harbor Forest and are very good bards, but..."
Yayiwen smiled, waved him to stop, took out a letter and handed it to the scout, "Let's read this first before talking about it. It doesn't matter, it's not a secret, it's just a greeting between friends."
The elf scout took the letter with both hands and opened it to read, skipping the flowery words. He quickly saw the part that the commander wanted him to see.
Yayiwen continued: "The person who can be introduced in the joint letter between Iorveth and Toluvel must be outstanding... You have also heard that 'With You' is really a good song."
At this point, he closed his eyes and opened his hands, "Now I can still feel the lingering sound. It's so beautiful. It's a pity that it's not music made by elves."
After folding the letter, the scout put the greeting letter back on the table.
"Despite this, I still feel that the help without asking for anything in return is too abrupt. It will make the other party wary, and it will not be good for long-term relationship. Maybe we can ask for some alchemy products──
Touching his nose, Yayiwen interrupted in a deep voice: "──There is nothing we can do about being vigilant. We don't have time to cultivate it slowly, so we might as well let him owe a favor. It can be put to use immediately when necessary.
Anyway, providing help in the forest is a small effort for us. If we cannot recover it, it is regarded as an investment in advance. When he becomes a witcher, humans will reject him as if they were inhuman, and he will become our friend more easily.
...Actually...I already have some ideas...but first we have to see if he has the ability to clear the Giant Thorn Demon Tree..."
...The conversation lasted for a long time, and the elf scout bowed and then exited the tent.
…
When you open the door of the Hairy Bear Hotel, you will see that the hotel at night is completely different from the world during the day. During the day, it is at least a clean and tidy environment, but at night, it turns into a place where filth and evil practices are hidden.
The smell when opening the door can be said to be similar to that of a suburban tavern. The smell of fireworks, wine and meat, the smell of sweat, the smell of inferior powder, etc... all kinds of smells are mixed together. Fortunately, there is no smell of vomit and urine. But it still smells very bad.
However, Victor and Angoulin were not too pretentious people. They didn't care about this and went straight in. Dressed in leather armor, long swords and cloaks, they stood in an environment where drunkards, mercenaries, hooligans and waitresses intertwined. As ordinary as it was, the brigade blended in like a drop of water and did not attract the attention of others.
The tavern also adds more entertainment options at night, with several medieval liquor sales ladies who can 'change jobs' at any time. There are black boxers, arm wrestling, dice gambling, and some who come to buy weed - see again Arrived in Jesolo.
With steady steps, Victor walked to the bar and looked into the eyes of the boss, Griffith Lin: "Could you please give me a glass of hot milk and a glass of malt wine for my companion?"
Grifilin first looked at Victor's face thoughtfully. Then prepare the drinks.
When two glasses of drinks were placed on the table, Victor pushed the malt wine to Angouleme, picked up the milk and took a big sip, then looked at Griffithlin: "Boss, I want to meet Mr. Lansmit. Some. I want to tell him, I believe he will be interested.”
Grifilin crossed his arms, leaned his short and stocky body against the wine cabinet, and smiled with interest at Victor. "You know, young man, I'm a veteran of the Battle of Brenner.
After the war, I opened a hotel here, selling food, drinks, and a happy and comfortable space. I was very reluctant to be a broker. "
Being very reluctant does not mean rejection.
The young man continued: "Help me! Boss, with your unintentional finger, my partner and I were almost hacked to death on the road today by seven members of the Ram Gang."
The words made Griflin chew his boxer-like jaws.
"I'd like to see Mr Lansmit so I can find out why this happened.
Since the boss can identify me, he must also remember that I am a new mercenary who doesn't want to cause trouble. "The young man's voice was always calm and calm.
After frowning and thinking for a while, Grifilin poured another glass of malt wine and milk and put it on the table, "The drinks are free tonight. I'm sorry for your experience, but if you want me to be a broker, I have to pass the rules here. "
With his smooth but shiny bald head, he pointed to the corner of the hotel, "The black boxing ring... have you seen it? If you beat three people, I will introduce it to you."
Glancing at the victor who had just won and was showing off his bravery with his hands raised, Victor turned back to face Griffilin: "Tsk, tsk, all the muscles in that big guy's body are coming out. Do you want me to die?"
The boss sneered and rubbed his beardless chin with his fat hands: "No problem, those seven people also want you to die today, and then you are sitting here, but they don't know where they went..."
He picked up the gifted milk and drank it in one gulp, "You keep your word, veteran of the Battle of Brenner?"
"Of course, that's my promise."
…
In the black boxing ring, the host danced excitedly and roared at a high volume to attract the audience's attention.
"Gentlemen, ladies, look here, another new challenger has appeared! It seems that tonight's 'Iron Fist Battle' is not over yet!
In the Hairy Bear Hotel where there are so many strong people, we are now going to introduce again: 'The Ultimate Killer'!"
The host gestured to the south, wearing only shorts, revealing a strong and muscular man.
"He has beaten so many newcomers to the point of foaming at the mouth and spurting blood on our stage.
Come and take a look at this perfect six-foot-tall body! These sturdy and majestic muscles, his chest muscles can even kill flies when they collide!
Let's take a look at his opponent, oh...poor challenger, what a small poor thing.
He is five feet seven inches tall, as petite as a chicken, and I boldly guess that his chicken is as petite as his height..."
"Wow! Captain, are you sure you really want to go?" Looking closely, Angouleme was also shocked by the opponent's tangled muscles.
If they draw their swords and fight, that's another matter, but in a fight, physique almost determines everything. It's very rare for a heavyweight to lose to a lightweight since ancient times.
"Shut up, you have to have more confidence in your leader, he always has a plan, remember." Victor told Angouleme to shut up in a bad mood, not to let her continue to undermine morale.
Then he took advantage of the introducer still stirring up the atmosphere, took two steps forward and whispered to the Ultimate Killer King: "Hey, brother, let's make a deal, okay? Do you see the blonde lady behind me? I came here to fight today just to please her. If you are willing to lose to me, I am willing to pay you 250 orens privately."
He looked at the boy with disdain, and the Ultimate Killer King spit out a mouthful of thick phlegm with his throat. If Victor hadn't dodged quickly, it would have hit his face.
"Kid, you're dead!" He made a throat-cutting gesture with his thumb.
Victor, who was rejected in the face and felt unhappy, retreated to his corner with a gloomy face, and asked the people who were accepting bets: "What are my odds now?"
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