Chapter 68 Who is peeping in the night wind?
The long history of "Vizima Cemetery" can be traced back to the period of elf rule. It has an excellent geographical location, connecting the city's temple area and trade area.
In addition to the scattered tombstones in the cemetery, there are also many hexagonal ruins, which look like the remains of temples or chapels.
Before the sun sets, the witcher apprentice who followed the trail of ghouls and went deep into the cemetery finally arrived at a huge underground tomb. Although he couldn't see clearly inside from the entrance, the deep and dark place seemed like the evil ghost opened its mouth, ready to devour any creature that stepped into it.
Victor made a prompt decision and followed the guidance of his heart, retreated to the place where he solved five ghouls last night, and rearranged the trap.
Then he lit a blazing campfire, put his knees together, pressed his buttocks on his feet, put his hands on his legs, and began to sit and meditate.
The witcher master Vesemir once said that meditation can help people see through themselves and see their shortcomings. Even in the process of meditation, the understanding and application of the seal will be deepened.
Unfortunately, these functions have nothing to do with Victor for the time being. His meditation is in form, and he doesn't even focus his mind on the flames in front of him. He is just reflecting on what happened today.
...
The transaction with Lansmit in the morning was not as smooth as expected, because he is a person who doesn't know the goods, or he knows the goods too much. He has no interest in scalp hair follicle regeneration and has no idea about fading scars. He is even young and strong, so he knows that what he needs now is not hair growth liquid, scar removal cream, or erection decoction.
What he needs most is healing potion.
The Salamander Gang, an organization that suddenly rose like a comet, seems to have some upper-level forces behind them to support them, so although they are new, they are not easy to deal with.
And the friction between them and the Ram Gang, under the background of Catriona's rampage, both sides consciously maintained a certain degree of restraint, knowing that now is not the time for large-scale fighting.
However, small-scale fights are inevitable. In this case, the healing potion has a lot of room to play. Although both gangs have their own herbalists, they are not comparable to alchemical products that are quick to take effect and have medical effects far exceeding ordinary herbs.
Unfortunately, capable alchemists simply disdain to participate in such struggles among the lower classes. They either have the power to protect themselves or accept the protection of the nobles.
So when he heard that Victor had a channel, Lansmit directly set the tone. It was okay to sell a small amount of contraband, but in exchange for healing potions, a certain basic amount must be provided. Whatever is above, as much as you want, you will be willing to pay a premium.
…
In the afternoon, he went to the Knights' Order and complained to the Rose Knight. Victor successfully got two crossbows. These two weapons do not need to be returned, but there are special marks on the crossbows to indicate their ownership. Siegfried said that it is best to notify as soon as possible whether they are damaged or lost. This kind of long-range weapon is controlled in big cities.
Then the boy ran to the banker's house as a postman. Mr. Goran Vivaldi was reluctant, but he still opened the door and accepted the letter.
Yawen said that there was no need to wait for a reply to this letter, so he left after handing it over to Victor. The boy guessed that the communication in the previous letter was not smooth, and this letter probably had some ultimatum.
And since the wild girl Angouleme was still nowhere to be seen, and Miss Shani would not come today, the witcher apprentice simply ate early and went into the cemetery to find the source of the monster before dark in the evening.
While thinking, a familiar smell came from the wind, interrupting the boy's meditation. Although it was the first time he came into contact with the smell yesterday, it was too bad and disgusting.
The direction from which the monster's roar came was the catacombs. It seems that the idea of pre-assessment was correct. This group of new gourmets may have originally lived in the suburban tombs of Swamp Forest Village, but because of the recent food shortage, they somehow found the underground waterway leading to the city.
In other words, the closer to the catacombs, the higher the possibility of being gathered around the fire.
Standing up, the silver sword was already coated with ghoul bio-oil. The witcher apprentice did not drink the potion and stood in the middle of more than ten bear traps laid around the campfire. This absolute terrain advantage gave him the confidence to be invincible.
When their strong stench changed from faint to visible to the naked eye, the ghouls also confirmed their eyes and knew that they were delicious people. If they were from the northeast, they would probably say this at this time: "Oh my God! Why are you so polite! You smell so good!"
At the same time...
"Victor! Run away!" Ciri woke up from her dream with a sweaty scream. She dreamed of her little brother Victor, whom she regarded as a relative, being trapped in a cold and desolate grave by six ghouls.
Although the picture she saw was blurry and Victor's appearance had changed a lot, the most obvious thing was that he had grown a lot taller, but she could still recognize that simple face. That was her dearest little brother, and he was in danger.
Pulling the towel from the bed to wipe off the cold sweat, she knew that the vacation was over again. Although she had relied on the help of the unicorn to save Geralt and Yennefer who had died once, and successfully escaped to this world, the pursuit of the Wild Hunt did not stop there, and they were still constantly looking for themselves.
Jumping off the bed, she changed back into leather armor and walked out of the room.
It is now 2077 AD. This is a cyberpunk world in the near future. A middle-aged man with a big beard who looks like Keanu Reeves is sitting in the living room watching TV. He has a face that makes thousands of girls lick the screen and makes game fans scream "Give you money, hurry up!"
"Are you leaving?" He asked, stroking his beard with the full metal mechanical arm on his left hand.
Ciri carried "Jiweier" - the name of her sword, "It's my brother. He may be in danger. I don't know what happened to him, but my journey must start again."
Keanu Reeves smiled kindly, "Brave little girl, I hope you can successfully cross to the right place this time, and if there is a chance, you are always welcome to come and play again."
"I will, thank you uncle."
...
Victor suddenly felt a chill, as if someone was peeping at him just now, but this feeling was also fleeting.
Raising the silver sword and falling straight down, the last ghoul trapped in the trap howling, the sharp blade pierced straight into its skull, freeing this cruel creature.
"Completely silent, killing monsters will not trigger strange sounds." Victor thought.
Pulling back the silver sword, the apprentice patrolled a circle, cut off the ears of the ghouls as a bounty certificate, and slightly gathered the remains into a pile, poured grease and burned them.
Retreating to the campfire, Victor sat down and took a deep breath. He reached into the herbal bag and let his mind feel its size. "It has indeed expanded a lot, which is a proof that the spirit is getting stronger and stronger. In the past, if it was one meter long, wide and high, one cubic meter strong, now it can be called one and a half meters long, wide and high, three point three seven five cubic meters brave. In the future, it can hold more things."
When the fire gradually died down, Victor hurriedly cleaned up the scene and then rushed to "Desire Thighs" to report before curfew.
When Griffin reminded him in the morning, Victor was surprised to find that he didn't notice that he had a faint smell of corpses on his body, and this kind of habit should never happen.
Even if he wanted to be a witcher, the boy also expected himself to be a new era witcher, not the kind of witcher who rolled in a pile of corpses, smelled all over, had a tangled beard, and could brush lice out of his hair; but he took a bath every day, was neat and clean, and had a well-designed hairstyle and beard, and was an elegant gentleman hunter.
Thanks for the recommendation votes, collections and comments. Thanks to the book friend Moon Night*Wolf Howl for the reward and encouragement.