Chapter 34 Gathering

A warm, luxuriously furnished living room.

Wearing a knight-style blouse with a unique temperament, a man with a unique temperament is accompanied by a radiant beauty. A gray-green lace-trimmed dress covers her slender and slender body. The dark golden hair reveals solemnity and nobility. Wearing a ruby ​​necklace, she is innocent. Evil blue eyes are full of elf-style provocative makeup.

Pure and charming at the same time, it can be called the world's best.

"Your Majesty Wigfortes, you have generously introduced His Majesty Emhyr Va Enris for our elves, so that we can see the hope of restoring our country again. You have great kindness to us. It’s not a problem to be busy, I will send ten assault teams to Novigrad to help you die. If you need it, I can provide five additional wizard warlocks… for you to drive.”

Viggo's deep eyes looked at the sparks jumping in the fireplace, reflecting a terrifying red light.

Almost three parties benefited from this transaction.

Nilfgaard signed a peace agreement with the north, and the agreement could no longer be easily torn up, allowing the Black Armored Army to appear on the land of the north.

As an intermediary, he helped Francesca, the wizard warlock who was single-minded to restore the country, one of the six members of the Wizarding Society, to match up and contact the emperor in the south, so that the Squirrel Party secretly joined the Nilfgaardian camp.

As the secret vanguard of the Empire, harass and destroy the northern kingdom's front!

Looking forward to rekindling the war in the future.

In this way, since Nilfgaard does not violate the agreement, it can effectively weaken the strength of the north.

All it paid was an empty promise. After occupying the north, the Valley of Flowers, Dole Bultana, was assigned to the elves as the foundation for Francesca to rebuild the elves' kingdom.

Her Squirrel Party troops hated humans, including witchers, of course.

The Squirrel Party has exercised its strong fighting power in the perennial battle with humans!

And because of his special status, he won't reveal Ciri's news!

Viggo couldn't help smiling softly at the elf sorceress.

Hundreds of squirrels in the assault team, combined with the arrangement of Skirroo and Riens, will surely make the group of witchers suffer enough!

...

Southeast of Novigrad,

An unknown country inn near Tritogg.

The white light from the window showed the half-elf Skirr's dry, withered ponytail hanging from the back of his head to his waist, and he tapped on the mottled table.

"Ms. Talika, why do you hate witchers?"

"My Sweetwater Village was originally in the west of Nuocheng, near the outskirts of Tritog..." A thin middle-aged woman in sackcloth and linen said timidly, "Five years ago, the cemetery of Sweetwater Village was attacked by a terrifying animal. It looks like a skinned humanoid devil! The claws are like sickles, and the two rows of teeth are like steel cones... The cemetery is messed up. Falcon and Oliva died under its minions."

"You mean ghoul?"

"Maybe that's what it's called. The village chief went to Tritog to put up a notice. After waiting for half a month, a mutant with black hair and green eyes entered the village with the notice..." The village woman's rough hands were clenched tightly around her body. Before, the tone began to tremble, "He said his name was Bren, he was carrying two strange swords, and a silver pendant hung around his neck with the shape of a cat on it. He claimed to be willing to help us eradicate that monster. But asked two hundred crowns."

"That's the income of dozens of people in our village for nearly two years..." The village woman sighed, "But where money matters, life is important, we promised him."

"That guy went to the cemetery alone, and returned with the monster's bloody head in less than half a day! The village chief gave him the money immediately."

"Agreed two hundred crowns, a lot?" Skirr's yellow-green eyes stared straight at the opposite side, his muscular arms wrapped around his chest, and his body over six feet exuded a sturdy aura. ,

The woman trembled, licked her chapped lips and explained honestly.

"The village chief gave him one hundred and eighty crowns, all the money the village could scrape together."

"At that time, the guy put the money in his pocket without counting it. But he didn't leave immediately when he got paid, but patronized my tavern."

"He drank non-stop that night... his eyes were red, and he drank all the drinks in my store. Until late at night, the villagers slept with the child by their side, lest they be stolen by the mutants."

"He suddenly overturned the wine table, muttered swearing in his mouth, left the tavern with a fierce expression, and the account was not settled..."

"Then...then..." The goddess lowered her head, her hoarse voice suddenly began to tremble, "Blood, blood everywhere!"

"He broke into every house and started killing people. His movements were as fast as a ghost in wolf's skin, and his two swords swung like a snow-white meat grinder!"

"As soon as the man in the village touched him with a pitchfork, he lost his arm, broke his leg, and was torn apart." The woman screamed, trembling, "No one can escape, and he still has a hand crossbow that can hit every shot!"

"I only managed to escape by lying in the pile of corpses and pretending to be dead. I was afraid to die, and my brain was like a lump of paste. Climb out."

"They're all dead!" She sobbed while covering her wet face, "Everyone except me died, not even five or six-year-old children! The death was so appalling that my Sweetwater Village became a slaughterhouse. The field! That demon is gone!"

"Woooo..."

"This is something people can do? Mutants are demons who kill a thousand knives! They all deserve to die, go to hell!" The woman cursed through gritted teeth, poking the air with her muddy nails.

Wasn't the reason for this that you broke your promise first?

Skirrou was full of disgust in his heart. When he was a mercenary, the most annoying thing was the employer who went back on his word.

This Bren just did what he wanted to do but was afraid to do.

But worthy of being a cat demon hunter, there are not many cruel words.

Twenty crowns, more than twenty lives.

This kind of evil is undoubtedly discrediting the entire witcher community.

Meet his requirements!

Just treat it as a surprise gift and give it to the witchers in Nuocheng.

...

"Ms. Talika, I deeply share your tragic experience. I have been persecuted by those mutants in the past and lost my relatives. Since we share the same illness, we should unite and seek justice from those bastards!" From the yellow-green pupils of Skirru, the warm concern of a family shot out, he took the woman's rough hand, stuffed her a small bag of money, and gave her a look at the mercenary beside him, "You can take this money as living expenses first, Plus, he'll arrange accommodation for you."

"The witcher has ruined countless innocent people's homes, but he manages orphanages, pharmacies, and dance halls in Novigrad with peace of mind, and lives a rich life."

"The wicked are at large, can you watch it?"

The woman gritted her silver teeth and shook her head.

"Then when we are fully prepared to take revenge on those witchers, I hope you can stand up bravely and testify to their atrocities! But don't worry, I swear to the gods that I will keep you safe."

"I-I promise you!"

Skyru nodded in satisfaction, and gave the mercenary a look.

The latter took the middle-aged woman out of the tavern in this remote country.

...

Maybe today is a lucky day.

After finding a strong witness, Skirou ushered in an even bigger surprise.

He walked slowly through the wooden door of the tavern, and the light filtering in from behind left an astonishingly tall figure over seven feet on the smooth floor of the tavern, dusty, soaked with sweat and pine oil, and crawling with dust. A leather jacket wrapped around his lean body, with a sharp steel sword slung around his waist.

His eyes glanced cautiously around, and finally focused on the corner, the same tall half-elf.

He walked unhurriedly over to Skirr and sat down, the spurs on his shoes jingling, he took off a pair of muskhide gloves, and folded his hands to support the grey and odd moustache Whiskered jaw that looks like a catfish.

The godless dead fish eyes on the thin, skeleton-like face carried a arrogance that put nothing in their eyes. What was even more frightening was that the pair of pupils had no eyelashes, no eyebrows, and the sunken black eye sockets. Only a pair of wet eyeballs.

Skirrou tensed up quietly, the kind of look he'd only ever seen on a murderous, perverted serial killer.

"You put up a notice in Widoff to recruit warriors, mercenaries, and bounty hunters who are skilled and experienced, and who hate witchers?"

The man's voice was a little vague, and his accent was not like any country in the north at all, but closer to the ancient language.

Skirrou recognized that he was definitely a Nilfgaardian.

The contract between the North and the South was initially signed, and there will be no wars for at least two years. A few residents began to work on the other side's territory.

"That's right, I am Skye, what do you call your Excellency? Since you accepted the commission, then we will be comrades in arms in the future! Demon hunters are full of evil and should have been punished long ago! You hate them too, right?" Skye looked at him Reaching out his hand, the man's mouth showed a mean smile, but he did not respond to his kindness.

"Leo Bonnet..." the man said slowly, with a look of excitement in his wide eyes, "I have to make it clear to Your Excellency, I don't dislike witchers, I just like to kill Kill a strong opponent. Especially in a one-on-one duel..."

"Witchers are great opponents! Their skills and reflexes are far superior to other fighters, and they are very good at 'dancing' and swordsmanship. They won't die in three or two turns. It can make me more enjoyable, Bring me more fun."

Skye's heart froze, and there was a trace of doubt in the eyes of the man.

Witcher, dance so you don't die too easily?

Who can't talk big?

This guy, I'm afraid he has never really played against mutants, right?

Seeing the disdain in his eyes, Bonnet suddenly grinned and sneered twice, the corners of his mouth stretched almost as wide as the ferocious gray mustache, the long, wide palms wrapped in a layer of calluses reaching into his chest Take out the front placket.

"Snapped!"

Three silver necklaces were undone by him and placed on the table, and three distinctive silver pendants appeared in front of him.

The heads of three glittering animals—

A wolf with twinkling pupils, a grinning cat, and a bear with a mouth wide open.

"Wolves, cats, bears, the badges of the three schools!" The half-elf let out a gasping sound like a poisonous snake, and the yellow-green pupils shrank like a snake, "Where did you get it?"

Bonnet snatched the spirits from the half-elf's hand, drank it nonchalantly, and stared into his eyes,

"What do you think? The witcher will casually drop the school badge that looks like life on the street, and I can just bend over and pick it up?"

"You mean you killed them righteously in a duel?"

Skye's expression was unbelievable. This man as thin as a bamboo pole could actually defeat the witcher with his mortal body?

"The witcher's skills are indeed inhumanly powerful, but that doesn't mean that they are invincible, and that humans must be defeated by them."

"And I, their nemesis, specifically fight against them!"

Bonnet spread his hands and took a deep breath, a hint of memory flashed across his thin cheeks, as if he was reminiscing about a delicious dish, a perfect concert.

"You don't know how beautiful the wailing of this group of mutants is before they die. Their voices have been modified, their voices are more penetrating, their eyes and tongues are more elastic. Tenacious vitality can make serious injuries The dying body persists for a long time, and it brings me more joy!"

"If you don't believe my skills," he slowly drew out the long sword beside him, spit on the straight blade, and shook his wrist, "Come and try?"

A light wind blows.

Skirr felt as if something was wrong just now.

Reach out and touch your chest.

"Crack-"

The gray leather armor on his chest split open in an instant, revealing blue underwear.

Yet the soft underwear is intact.

"No need." The half-elf swallowed and faced each other, but he didn't see the other's movements at all.

This kind of speed and power control is far beyond ordinary people, and he is not just a master of swordsmanship.

"Very good, how much bounty do you plan to pay? What school does your opponent come from, and what is the name? Are you going to capture it alive or a corpse. Of course, if you capture it alive, the bounty must be much larger."

"Your Excellency Bonnet, I'm sorry I didn't tell you in advance, our opponent is not a witcher," Skirr's eyes swept across the man's face, and he said solemnly, "It's a group!"

"What did you say?"

"More than ten witchers, dare to swing a sword at them? But we are not fighting alone, we are fighting in groups. You must obey the command and don't rush in."

Bonnet smiled bared his teeth like a ghoul,

"interesting!"

"interesting!"

He stood up suddenly, holding the sword on his chest and turning around in place, dancing light dance steps, his tall and thin figure was like a diseased and withered tree that could not help the wind.

A mysterious white foam was still oozing from the corners of his mouth.

"Enough money! I'll join you!"

"Haha, a bunch of witchers, let's dance together! I can't wait!"

"Play me music!"

...

Skirr wiped his cold sweat and left the tavern with the neurotic Leo Bonnet in person.

Those godless dead fish eyes brought him enormous pressure.

This guy is definitely a destabilizing factor, a tricky conundrum, certainly for witchers.

Best, he's a witcher nemesis!

...

Skirrou left soon after.

Two more people pushed open the empty tavern door.

A rather striking combination.

The leader was blonde and brown-eyed, mature and handsome, dressed in dark-gold knight plate armor, and carried a huge slashing sword.

And the guy who followed behind him looked like an entourage, with black hair fluttering behind his head, blue eyes full of vitality, handsome features with short beards, a firm expression, a brown-green cloak, and a delicate jacket and breeches.

Both of them were tall and straight, with extraordinary bearing.

"Grim, are you sure you can find her in Novigrad?" The black-haired man pulled out a chair in the corner and sat down. He looked at the blond knight in front of him with a complicated look, with a hint of fear and admiration at the same time. .

"boom!"

The slashing sword was placed on the corner of the table, the dust overflowed, and the ground shook, almost not crushing the wooden table.

And his master sat on the bench with his back straight, greeted the proprietress of the tavern, asked for a beer, took a sip,

"I swear by the honor of a knight, that she is most likely to be found in Novigrad. Now, Queen Calanthe and Her Majesty East are not there, and Skellige is too far to cross the sea, the little princess is the only one She can rely on the witcher who is bound to her law of accident, Geralt."

"You haven't heard of it along the way. There is a dance hall in Novigrad who likes to perform shows related to the witcher. This is counterintuitive. There is no doubt that there must be news about Geralt in the dance hall."

Taking a sip of the wine in the mug, Grim stared at the black-haired knight's face with warm, golden eyes, "Remember your original promise. After seeing her, you will solemnly apologize to her and admit your mistakes. You do your best to make up for the damage done to her and let her live a normal life again."

"Of course, I, the son of Chirac, Cassir Mowa Diflin Aip Chirac, swear by the honor of the family!" The black-haired man put his right hand on his chest and said solemnly, "I will exhaust it. Do your best to find Ciri... pay for my sins, save and protect her!"

"In violation of this oath, the light of the sun wheel will always turn away from me, and I will be tortured to death in the shadows that cannot see the sun!" Blue eyes, looking at the blond man in front of him, flashed a trace of gratitude and a sigh .

That night, after the little princess Ciri snatched her horse for the second time and escaped.

The Toussaint champion knight who suddenly emerged from the grass quickly knocked himself unconscious with his extraordinary skills.

Cassirer thought he would take his own life, but he not only showed mercy, but also took himself by his side, admonishing and teaching, like retraining a knight apprentice.

It was a difficult, painful and strange time.

Cassirer tried many times to escape from this oppressive situation from Grim's men, but the results were self-evident, and he kept getting caught again.

He felt the feeling of suffocation that Ciri once felt.

At the same time, he also confirmed his special affection for the little princess.

Cassirer himself didn’t know why—for a few months he and Grimm had traveled from the Rivendell Valley across the Yaruga and north to Tritog. He gradually accepted this Grimm captive, and actually began to feel that the chivalrous words of the champion knight were very reasonable and thought-provoking.

Washed his brain over and over again.

The relationship between the two has also changed from a captive and a master to half a friend.

He should have returned to Nilfgaard and knelt before Emperor Emhyr var Enreth in repentance, having failed to bring back Ciri for His Majesty.

But he didn't. He lived up to the expectations of his father, Nilfgaard's royal court chief, Chirac Diflin Ep Gruffid, and fled to Norse City in fear of sin.

But now he just wanted to find the silver-haired girl.

Goodbye to her!