"Der, Der..."
The crisp horseshoes startled the flying dust, and two horses, one black and one brown, galloped on the forest path.
The leading knight was clearly superior. I saw his arms pulling the reins loosely, his slender thighs firmly gripping the horse's belly, his vigorous body slightly arched, and rhythmically moving forward with the rhythm of the horse's running.
His whole person seemed to be integrated with the horses under him, and he was able to control them with ease, especially when he had the energy to look back and visit the backward knights.
The performance of the latter knight was much less impressive, with his body leaning against the horse's back and his posture slightly stiff.
After a while, they ran out of the forest into an open plain—
At noon, most of the hungry people returned to their homes, and few people could not be seen on the street.
The straw roofs in the village are lined with smoke, and in the middle of them, in front of the courtyard of a spacious and atmospheric brick building, hangs the plaque of the hotel.
"Yuyu—"
Roy, in a cape and leather armor, held the reins tightly and jumped off the horse impatiently.
As soon as he was on his way, his face was covered in cold sweat.
However, he was very gentle with Wirth, the initiator, softly slapping the mane between the horse's neck and whispering to it, while walking slowly on the reins.
"Wilt, Wilt, next time you have to keep it a little longer, I'll lose half my life every time I ride you..."
Lesuo, who was leading the horse in front, shook his head when he heard the words. The large cloak on his body covered his developed muscles, and the worn leather jacket had straps and leather buckles on the chest and waist, with a row of flying knives and leather buttons on it. A small potion bag.
The five words "don't provoke me" were written all over his body.
I've been seeing this guy talking to the horses lately, and the witcher is starting to wonder about his mental state.
Can the horse understand
…
The two led their horses down the street to the door of the hotel, and the man greeted them and took the reins from them diligently.
"Give them some soybeans, peas, and corn, and some water."
Roy instructed, "Don't worry too much about money. Good horses on the road must be fed with high-quality goods. Don't fool us with moldy and spoiled things, understand?"
"Don't worry, the guests please come in..." The guy looked at the dusty but young and handsome face under the hood of the other party and said,
"Strange... What's up with this guy's eyes?"
He glanced at the hill-like strong man again, both of whom had very raw faces, and their accents were obviously foreigners.
And Vizima is not a friendly city.
"Don't have any accidental fights again." The man prayed to himself, "The renovation was just finished last time, and if I come again, the boss won't have the money to hire me."
Roy looked at his back, and suddenly felt a slight stinging gaze on his skin. When he turned his eyes, he saw a dirty and sloppy male beggar outside the alley on the right side of the hotel, looking at the two of them in a daze. trance.
"These days, even beggars dare to discriminate against witchers?"
…
The hotel owner raised his head and looked at the person who came. The stranger, still wearing a cloak, stood stiffly in front of the bar, expressionless and silent.
"What do you two want?"
"Liquor, the dark beer specializing in Vizima..."
When it comes to wine, the bald-headed big Chinese finally has some emotion in it...
"Well, two cups..."
The boss wiped his hands on the canvas apron and filled two cracked clay cups with golden, rich wine.
The two sat in front of the bar and took off their cloaks.
Others in the hotel noticed that they were all carrying swords.
The sword itself is normal, almost all adult males in Vizima carry weapons, but no one carries a sword like a crossbow.
The two strangers did not find a table to sit down like the other guests, but still stood in front of the counter, and the young sword-back stared at the boss - this boss, his eyes were also not very friendly.
So he took a sip of sweet wine and said, "We need two rooms for the night."
"Sorry, not here." The boss said angrily, looking at the two's boots, which were dusty and dirty,
"Go to the temple area in the city and look for it, where the believers of Rabiunda are willing to welcome you."
"But we're going to live here?" Roy insisted, and then he felt the witcher pull his hand,
"You don't need to stay in the store, have something to eat and take a rest for noon, and we'll hit the road immediately."
"Can't live even if you pay?" Roy continued to ask, but he wanted to see the bottom line of this group of people.
"This place is full..." The tavern owner looked at his dark golden eyes and didn't give in.
The scene was deadlocked.
At this time, a man with a pockmarked face and a short stature walked over to them, with two peculiar attendants behind him.
"Don't you understand human language..." A harsh voice squeezed out of the pock pit man's voice, "Vizima is the center of Temeria, a great city. Freaks and mutants like you are not welcome. ."
"If I remember correctly, this is the suburbs."
"The suburbs also belong to Vizima, and we are the glorious Vizima."
The young witcher turned icy cold, lowered his head, and pressed his arms quietly on his back.
He was thinking about whether to hit the left cheek or the right cheek.
The Pox Pit Man still said aggressively, "Now I'll give you two choices, either get out of here and leave Vizima by yourself. Or, we'll give you a ride!"
In the face of the man's scolding and insults, Leto drank the wine in the glass abruptly, and then slammed the glass on the counter with a muffled "bang".
Everyone present was taken aback, but before the pox pit man got angry,
Suddenly, someone rushed in outside the hotel door—the guy who had been leading the horses for the two of them before.
He looked flustered and stammered,
"Two guests, you...one of your horses has been let go!"
"What! Which bastard did a good job?!"
Roy suddenly got up and rushed forward. I don't know whether it was intentional or not, and suddenly hit the pox pit man's shoulder. The power twice that of ordinary people exploded in an all-round way.
The latter only felt that his body lightened, as if he was hit head-on by a crazy rhino, and the whole person involuntarily flew backwards far away.
When he successfully landed, he felt his ass smashed into eight pieces, his bones fell apart, and his eyes rolled white and fainted as he stretched his legs.
…
Roy and Leto rushed out of the hotel door, and a horse had long since disappeared—the old black horse that belonged to Leto.
"Wilt, good boy... Really didn't let the master down..." And Roy's mount, the brown horse, was still standing in the stable, nodding and salute when he saw the master.
The man watching the horses timidly stepped forward and said, "I was just preparing feed for your horse and I was negligent... I didn't watch the prison... But it should be the old and ugly beggar next to the hotel who startled your horse."
"Okay, we got it."
Roy's dark gold pupils shrank - from the stables, several "ribbons" of different colors appeared in the air, and he locked on the brightest and richest one.
"It was only ten minutes before and after entering the hotel, and he couldn't escape our palms."
"I want to see what gave him this courage!"
…
Nevelen lay quietly in a pile of rubbish between the two houses.
He clenched his yellowish rotten teeth, endured the pervasive stench around him, and did not dare to breathe.
He knew that the two witchers had sharper eyes than eagles and sharper noses than dogs,
Just make the slightest movement and you'll be caught.
After letting their horses go, if they were caught—Navilen rubbed his right calf, which was completely unconscious, and I am afraid that the other leg would not be able to be saved.
"Witcher... I, Nevelen, will degenerate to where I am today, all thanks to you!"
He began to recall again, and over the years, he recalled countless times of the good life in the past. Once upon a time, he was accompanied by beautiful women and beautiful clothes, and he had a strong physique far beyond ordinary people. However, because of a nosy hunter, everything was disillusioned.
The most ridiculous thing is that he was grateful to the witcher at the beginning, and it was not until he was forced to leave home that he realized the cruelty of reality-sometimes, being an alien is more relaxed and comfortable than ordinary people.
"I must have been caught in the witcher's hex to listen to his nonsense. They have to pay!"
—
"Ta, ta, ta..." Suddenly, a burst of small footsteps came from a distance.
Nevillen held his breath abruptly, his body collapsed and he didn't move.
"Get out, get out, get out!"
He kept roaring in his heart, and God seemed to hear his prayers, and the footsteps became quieter and quieter, and gradually disappeared until they were completely inaudible.
He put down his heart, which was about to pop out of his chest, and took a deep breath.
"Next time... next time I have a chance to teach them a good lesson... "
Thinking about it this way, he felt a little light, and in a rustling sound, the garbage behind him was pushed aside, and the cool wind blew through his clothes full of holes. Like a bucket of ice water poured over his head in June, he suddenly felt a cold air pouring from his head to his feet, and his body became extremely stiff.
"It was discovered... it's over..."
In despair, Nevillen simply buried his face in the sticky, smelly garbage heap.
At this moment, a diabolical chuckle sounded, and he felt a sharp object sliding along his back, and the skin seemed to be cut, causing a slight tingling.
The two witchers were more ruthless than he had imagined. "You're going to kill me."
Finally, he was about to get out of this hellish life - he closed his eyes and rolled over in the garbage heap, holding down his left chest, and said in a hoarse, broken gong voice, "Come on, give it here. A sword in my heart."
"Please move quickly and strike a little more neatly. Just give me the last kindness to this poor beggar."
"Is there something wrong with you!" Roy looked at the relieved beggar in front of him, as if he was dying heroically.
The bald witcher was equally eccentric.
"Who's going to kill you? We have nothing against you, why are you idiots letting our horses go?"