The Divine Hunter

Chapter 134: The witcher's daily bill collection

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The hot sun shone on the swamp.

The water vapor began to evaporate, and there were vaguely turquoise figures galloping past in the mist.

This is a group of wild water ghosts.

Their smooth skin has sparse scales, and the fingers and toes at the ends of their limbs are held together by a thin layer of webs.

Like duck webs for paddling.

The ears are pointed and large, the two eyeballs are pale and one lacks pupils like a cataract patient, and in the big bloody mouth under the small nose, there are densely staggered serrations.

"Crackling..."

A water ghost dancing around in the mist suddenly stopped and probed his head in confusion.

It moved its nose like a hound, and the strange smell made his eyes turn to the right—a figure with a long sword came out.

food! flesh!

In an instant, the water ghost was like a cat smelling fishy.

"Wow—"

A dazzling arc swept across the air, like a thunder in the clear sky, the dashing figure of the water ghost stopped abruptly, and at the same time, a thin blood-colored line bloomed between its stubby neck.

With a "pop", the headless corpse fell heavily into the shallow bath, and the smooth and flat incision on the neck was scorched black by invisible flames, with only a small amount of blood gushing out.

"Grumbling..."

The five-headed water ghosts saw the movement and emerged from the mist in the distance, and rushed towards them again.

"Water Ghost Killer" stopped his right long sword in front of him, grabbed his left hand from the void, and another small, gray hand crossbow appeared in the palm of his hand.

Shoot, shoot, shoot...

The bowstring vibrated and the sound of breaking through the air continued.

Roy shot three crossbow arrows in an instant, two of which turned a small bend in mid-air - the three running water ghosts froze, blood blossoms burst from their foreheads and eye sockets, and they fell to the ground neatly and died.

The remaining two water ghosts had already rushed to the front, opened their serrations covered with minced meat and dirt, and exhaled a foul-smelling heat.

He remained calm, until the wind blew the broken hair on his forehead, the hand crossbow disappeared, and in the blink of an eye, the five fingers of his left hand with abrupt blue veins outlined a blue upright triangle in mid-air, and he suddenly pushed—

Alder!

"Boom!" A loud bang exploded the thick fog!

A strong airflow gushed out from the French seal.

A water ghost was overturned by his side.

"Shocked!"

The witcher's eyes flashed red—the last one lost control of his body in an instant and slammed into the straight blade.

Guvihir easily poked into its jaw and into its brain.

"Pfft..."

Draw the sword, the blood drops down the snowy blade, the blade swings through the air, returning to the plow,

The witcher focused on his left foot, turned around and slashed cleanly, and Dou Da's head rose into the air.

In less than twenty seconds, all six water ghosts turned into corpses.

"Kill the water ghost, experience +20*6, witcher LV5 (1020/2500)

"Water Ghost Killer" took a deep breath, kicked away the monster's corpse, wiped the blood stains on his face, then took out a sharp short blade, squatted down and began to harvest the spoils.

The skull was knocked out to take out the water ghost brain, the internal organs were divided, and the finger webs and ears were cut off.

The pungent stench, thick blood, and sticky minced meat failed to change his expression.

It's blandly like going about daily work.

After a while, the young witcher, who had finished processing the materials, inspected the half of the swamp again. He couldn't find any trace of the water ghost again. He washed the leather armor and the stains on the skin with the swamp water, tidied up the instrument a little, and put on a bloody one. linen bag left.

Outside the swamp, another taller bald man with his arms crossed his chest looked like he had been waiting for a long time, also holding a bloody bag in his hand.

"Little devil, how's the harvest?"

"12 ears..." He shook the cloth bag in his hand at the bald head, and his slightly green cheeks were full of regrets, "Six water ghosts, not very happy!"

The bald head grinned and showed his white teeth, and lifted the bag in his hand, "I have 14 on my side, you lose, you will continue to be responsible for the meal that night!"

"Hey, lucky guy! I've been preparing dinner for half a month," the young witcher spread his hands helplessly with annoyed expression on his face. "Will you become a cook if you go on like this?"

"What are you complaining about, this is to sharpen your ability to survive in the wild," Lesso warned, his eyes turned on the boy, and he reminded, "This time, don't cheat and deduct my bounty.

"Can't you trust me more? I'm the treasurer appointed by you!" Roy said with a well-meaning expression, "Now I'm planning carefully and making deposits in advance..."

"After all, if we want to establish a Viper school in the Northern Kingdom, we must first save money to buy real estate, then decorate and buy materials... All kinds of consumption, it is not realistic to calculate without a base of 10,000 crowns, so we must plan early. "

"Stop! Don't talk about it! You have the final say on the accounting!" Rarely showed impatience on the face of the tough guy Lesuo, as soon as he heard the mess of numbers, his brain swelled to the point of splitting, "It will be half later. Save the reward for you, but you must leave me some money for the drink."

The two have been away from Ellander for more than half a month, and they have received a few commissions to clean up evil ghosts and water ghosts in the villages along the way, saving some money, but for Roy, the biggest gain is experience and Newly learned skills—

The Witcher Seal LV1: After the careful teaching of the witcher master, you have initially mastered five basic seals: Igni, Alder, Axie, Quinn, and Arden.

The power of the Sigil is related to spirit and skill level.

Roy's spiritual attribute has surpassed that of the witcher, but the level of the seal is much lower. It also consumes 20 mana, and his seal is much weaker than Leto.

The strangest thing is that every time he releases the magic seal, the magic power he consumes is different, and he jumps repeatedly between 10 and 20 points.

According to Leto, this is because he has not been able to turn the seal into instinct and physical reflexes, and he still has a long way to go.

The two chatted and came to a humble village a mile away from the swamp.

A long way away, a group of sturdy male villagers in linen trousers and cloth turbans greeted them.

They looked at the two witchers with undisguised vigilance. He was holding "weapons" such as hoes, sickles, and pitchforks tightly in his hands, as if he wanted to drive away some beasts.

"The water ghost has been dealt with?"

At this moment, the village chief with a goatee and a hunched back walked out from among the dozen or so village strongmen.

The young witcher threw two heavy blood sacks on the ground, and said indifferently, "There are 26 ears in total, from 13 water ghosts. You can count them. There are no more monsters in the swamp over there. You, you are safe, at least for the last year or two."

The village chief gave a stout villager next to him a look, and the latter immediately opened the cloth bag and counted, and then nodded at the crowd.

"That's right, 13 water ghosts."

The goatee rolled his eyes and sent someone to exchange a bag of crowns. "This is the promised reward. We will clear our property. Now the two of you can leave."

"Wait, the number seems to be too much." As soon as the bag started, Roy didn't feel right.

"It's only fifty crowns in the bag. If I remember correctly, the agreed payment was clearly a hundred crowns."

"You fooling yourself into thinking that witchers don't count?"

Along the way, this isn't the first time they've encountered a bad guy—not everyone in the country knows how powerful a witcher is.

More are stupid villagers, who listen to absurd rumors, and therefore despise and hate witchers.

They know that witchers are good at slaughtering monsters, but they don't know the blade in their hands - killing is like killing dogs.

"He who does not know awe cannot live long."

Roy Anjin's eyes shrunk into prismatic shapes, looking at the men present from left to right, his eyes sharp as knives.

And that look is like a beast picking its prey.

The bald-headed man stood beside him with his arms crossed on his chest, the rock-like muscles on his arms bulged, his eyes were full of murderous intent, and his face was cold enough to freeze people.

The atmosphere was extremely depressing, the village chief's thin body trembled, but the villagers behind him cheered him up, carrying pitchforks and hoes, and approached the two witchers.

"That's all, get paid and leave now! Otherwise, you won't get a penny!"

"Think witchers are soft persimmons, easy to bully? You must keep another fifty crowns!"

Roy said fiercely, "Or keep your head!"

His right hand slammed behind his back and pulled out Guvihir, and there was a trace of blood on the flickering blade—a bloodstain left on purpose.

When the villagers saw this, their eyes became numb, their faces turned pale, and their IQ finally returned to normal. The witchers killed more than a dozen water ghosts. What did they resist

At the same time, the tall and burly Lesuo got some kind of signal and twisted his thick and short neck... He squeezed his fist, the size of a sandbag, with a "click" sound.

"Exactly, the dozen or so water ghosts just didn't have enough fun."

"Stop! We admit it!"

The goatee finally couldn't help admitting it, wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, and in a panic, he took out a bag of crowns from his arms and threw it over.

"One hundred crowns in total, which is a lot! Are you two satisfied now?"

Roy took the money in his arms contentedly, and then exchanged glances with the big man.

"The commission is over. Then, goodbye, you idiots!"

"Finally a friendly reminder that not all witchers are as approachable as we are."

"Break the bill next time - be careful that the whole village is dead!"

"If the villagers just made up their minds not to give the money, would you do it?" Roy asked curiously, leading the horse to leave the village far away.

"When they are beaten to the point of bruising their noses and faces, they will naturally know the importance of credit and spit out the money."

"But if you dare to use a 'weapon'..."

Roy suddenly realized that the bald man must have killed a lot of unscrupulous people in his long life.

Once the villagers are shot, it means that they must be killed - as long as one is released, the witcher will become a wanted criminal. There are many such examples in history, and Roy knows several.

However, whether to kill or not to kill, he didn't struggle, and he would instinctively make a choice at that time.

"It is impossible to know whether the client is a good citizen or a miserable person."

"However, one thing is certain. Ninety-nine percent of the peasants failed to master the magic skill of stabbing Geralt's waist with a pitchfork."