The Divine Hunter

Chapter 562: Reunion

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Early spring of 1265.

In the evening, a delicate sunset glow like a maple leaf bloomed on the horizon, the air was humid and cool, and the shrubs and grasses along the way were covered with dewdrops.

The caravan of small and medium-sized carriages passed through a dark forest with liveliness and noise.

The team included more than 50 teenagers and girls, wearing simple but neat linen underwear, fur coats, and carrying a blue canvas bag on their hands. Their youthful faces with a little baby fat showed the excitement, curiosity, and tiredness of embarking on the journey. .

The carriage was loaded with quilts, pots and pans and other daily necessities, and the wheels crunched on the mud after the rain.

Some children sit on the scooter and take a break.

A dozen or so sturdy, large cloaked witchers with eyes like wild beasts walked on both sides of the convoy.

A knight with fluttering blond hair led the horse at the end of the line.

The red-haired sorceress riding on Wilt's fingertips radiated magical aura from time to time, and controlled a magical eagle circling in the sky to send a sentry.

Except for the old Moore and his wife, Mino, the female night demon Pasia, and the griffin Beast Goerfin, it was inconvenient to travel and stay in the fortress, and the witchers almost came out of their nests.

And Roy was sitting on a slowly moving carriage, and the events of the past year or so appeared in his mind.

After Skellige had named the Accidental Daughter, he returned to Kyle Morhan and started the third trial of grass with the help of Coral.

Use wolf pie herbal decoction.

This green grass trial was longer than expected, even if his physique had reached 30 points at the time, he was also in the laboratory of Kyle Mohan, and was conflicted by the medicinal properties of the snake sect, the flying lion monster, and the wolf sect. The torture was worse than death, and it took a year and two months to survive the whole process.

Eyes on the template.

Roy

Age: 18

Status: Demon Hunter of the Viper School, Demon Hunter of the Flying Lion School, Demon Hunter of the Wolf School, Knight of Lake Vizima, Member of the Brotherhood of Demon Hunters

Health: 380→400 (Grass Trial +80)

Magic Power: 310→340 (Grass Trial +80)

Attributes:

Strength: 16→20

Agility: 16→20

Constitution: 30→32

Perception: 12→17

Will: 32→34

Charisma: 9→10

Spirit: 23→26

Profession:

Witcher LV13 (1550014500)

Stage: Intermediate Witcher

Advanced achievement conditions:

1. Drink the remaining three herbal decoctions (griffin, bear pie, cat pie)

2. Hunt down 1010 magical creatures with a single attribute higher than Tier 2 (Katakkarn, Petrified Chicken Snake, Giant Ghoul, Griffin Demon Hunter Kirsty (spirit), high-level vampire Grufid, Swamp witch, Nord ghoul overlord, dragon Mirmenir, ice troll*2...Wiggoforts)

3. Obtain large mutant 710 (Katakkarn, petrified chicken snake, giant ghoul, swamp witch, blood thorn corpse, ice troll*2…).

Remaining: 1 attribute point

The third trial of green grass was not as perverted as the second increase of 24.5 attributes, but it also gained 21 attributes. Roy's weakest melee attributes, such as strength and agility, were finally supplemented to level 2.

Only the perception attribute failed to exceed 20 points.

As for the will, spirit, and physique, he has already surpassed 99% of the witchers in the Brotherhood, not to mention that he has not undergone the second mutation.

He finally got out of the awkward position at the rear of the crane, and his body was full of surging power.

However, the ancient blood flowing in the body and the genes derived from the elf kept his body shape just right and not too strong.

He was still in his early 1800's, and his arms, chest, abdomen, back, and thighs were covered with fine and tough muscles.

His facial features were completely stripped of childishness, and he was already equivalent to a young man in his twenties.

The pupils that were originally intertwined with dark gold and silver-gray were completely transformed into silver-gray, which made him suddenly have an aristocratic temperament.

Roy has a strong hunch that after this time, the pupil color will not change again.

In more than a year, it is not only Roy who has changed.

The front of the team is wearing a black cloak, revealing a handsome face of Karl. After a long period of sharpening by Kyle Mohan, his temperament has become more calm.

In addition to Monty's four usual friends, there are also seven new witchers with beast pupils.

With the concerted efforts of everyone over the past year, the witcher apprentices have passed the green grass trial one after another.

They swallowed Calkestan and Coral, Triss, and Lydia, a non-staff member of "Abandoning Darkness", a carefully improved, safer, simplified version of the herbal decoction. The improvement in physical fitness is not as good as that of traditional witchers, but luckily did not leave any sequelae.

Twelve pairs of amber, or gray-green, scarlet eyes gleamed against the splendid sunset glow through the forest.

Now, plus the original three cats, four snakes, four wolfs, and one gryphon,

The number of witchers in the Brotherhood reached an all-time high of 24.

After more than a year of dormancy in Kyrmohan, everyone was very quiet and thoughtful before starting this exchange trip to the Temple of Elland.

It's just that the temple is not Roy's destination.

"Roy, how long until we get there?" Arkhamtom sat down beside the witcher, swaying his dangling legs comfortably, and the black bangs were blown by the breeze to a few freckles between the bridge of his nose.

"It's been more than half a month since we left Kermohan, and we've already passed the Gwenrich River, several villages in Upper Buena, and passed through the capital of Kedwen, Ad Kale, from outside the city. Entering the boundaries of Ellander for a month."

"Mother Nanny is really as amiable as you say?" Carl's little head leaned over from the dark horse's neck, "There are really hundreds of young and beautiful girls in the temple?"

"The little guy has also grown up and knows how to appreciate delicate roses." The corner of the owl's mouth grinned mockingly, looking at the disciple and teasing, "But you care so much about other girls, does Vicky know?!"

"What's wrong with learning? Did you learn to be a prodigal son from Lambert?" Oakes joked.

Carl glanced at the little blond girl who was whispering to a group of girls in the carriage behind, and retracted his head with a shy smile.

"Enough, buddy," Lambert walked over to Oaks and slapped his mount on the buttocks, complaining dissatisfiedly, "what's the matter with the prodigal son in love? I always focus on external communication and don't hurt people's feelings!"

"Beasts!" Aiden said disdainfully.

"Don't be arguing, little brats, the Temple of Goddess Meritelli is a sacred and solemn place. When you go there, be honest with me and obey the rules of the temple! Don't harass the priestess!" His fists attracted the attention of the children.

"Lesso, we're already independent witchers," Chanem complained dissatisfiedly, "can you stop treating us like children."

"Quiet!" The sorceress suddenly pulled the reins, and said loudly in a clear voice. Everyone followed her line of sight. The exit of the woods was not far away. The only way to go south was an old stone bridge. The bridgehead set up by the Kingdom of Kaedwen, dressed in red under the brilliance of the setting sun.

The usual bridgehead has only three soldiers, a toll collector, a groom, and at most a few passers-by.

But it was overcrowded. Roy glanced at it and saw more than 30 light infantrymen, all wearing the costumes of the Kingdom of Kaedwen, and a full 50 sword and shield soldiers camping around the low fence.

Most of them follow the soldier's field code and lie down by the campfire to recharge their batteries to deal with emergencies.

The open gate was crowded with people, and there were many soldiers resting in the fortress.

The farmer's ox cart and the merchant's carriage are parked in the yard.

On the slanted watchtower, two soldiers carried crossbows on guard. When they noticed the team walking out of the woods, they suddenly shouted!

"Oh my God...you, master witchers, where are you going?" The sergeant quickly greeted him, looking around the wagon train near the fortress. The pair of vertical pupils made him tremble with fear, and his tone was unconscious. Becoming very polite, "Bring so many children, are they apprentices?"

The witchers looked at each other, Gu Du's face was stunned, and the twelve young witchers had pride on their faces.

Along the way, they met many passers-by who were in awe of themselves.

The battle of Novigrad more than a year ago spread all over the North, and it became more and more mysterious. Why did one attack a hundred, and ten people killed the temple guard of a thousand people, which really made the devil hunter's fierce name even more. Go up one floor.

Deterrent.

No one dared to swear at them again, or sarcastically scolded Huai Huai, which was naturally not a bad phenomenon, and the witcher was happy.

"We're going to Elland." Roy briefly explained beyond the crowd, his eyes swept across the muddy ground near the fortress, the mess was not only footprints, but also a large area of unmasked fighting marks, and scattered in the air. Subtle bloody smell.

A heavy rain last night failed to wash away these traces.

The sergeant, who was extremely good at observing words and expressions, breathed a sigh of relief. Instead of asking more, he guessed the witcher's doubts.

"Masters also see the problem. The fortress was attacked last night. If we hadn't arrived in time with reinforcements, this place would have been turned into ruins." The sergeant answered thoughtfully.

He really didn't dare to provoke these twenty or so witchers now.

There were no more than 200 soldiers in the fortress, and no matter how strong they were, they couldn't compare to the devout Eternal Fire guards.

"Who dares to attack Kaldwin's post?" Knight Grim stepped out of the crowd and lived in Kermorhan for more than a year. He was also isolated from the rest of the world. "Didn't Nilfgaard already sign a peace agreement with the North?"

"Of course Nilfgaard didn't dare to tear up the agreement openly, so they funded it behind their backs, those hateful forest bandits!"

The sergeant spat, looking at the knight's dark-gold armor and blond hair, wondering how he could hang out with the witcher,

"Scoiatael!" he said in a strange voice full of hatred, and the group of heavily armed Kaldwin soldiers behind him gleamed with hatred.

Roy and his companions exchanged glances, "Is this what the Squirrel Party means?"

"Yes, sir, that's what they call themselves. Some say they have a fur hat or a squirrel tail around their waist, and others say they live in the forest and eat only nuts. Of course they're not just elves. , and half-bloods, halflings, dwarves, but anyone who hates humans is pulled over by them."

"I have heard rumors that you have killed such a group of anti-human extremist armed groups in Nuocheng." He said with admiration on his face, "It is a good thing to do, but it is a pity that there are too few killings."

"How?" Serret asked with his arms crossed.

"The plague of thugs now generally spreads from Novigrad to Kaldwin further north. The whole North, to be exact."

"Bruger, Karak, near Verdon, on the edge of the forest of Brokleon, Aedirn, Kaldwin, Temeria, Redalia, the frenzied raiding of all human troops, caravans, armies, and There are homeless people passing by."

"And in Kaldwin, they are like wildfires and locust swarms, running around in the form of assault teams, leaving no dogs and dogs wherever they go, more cruel than road robbers, they don't want money, as long as human blood is shed, Go to hell. Shouting something like 'The domination of man is over, it's time to restore the old order and drive humanity back to sea'. This bridgehead is a typical victim."

The witchers all looked solemn when they heard the words.

The Squirrel Party, which was once under their hands like a turkey, has grown to the point where the Four Great Kingdoms are afraid.

This is not good news.

After the conflict in Noro City, the Squirrel Party and the Witcher became mortal enemies.

"Your Excellency, according to what you said, the journey across the bridge to the south to Elland is not smooth?" Vesemir looked at the courtyard, where several corpses covered with white cloth were emitting a putrid smell.

"It shouldn't be a problem for you masters, no matter how many squirrels you have, you won't be able to kill them." "But you have so many 'children', so be careful."

He gave up his body and gave his soldiers a look.

In front of the witcher, the old broken bridge, which was trampled by horses' hooves, turned into a smooth road.

The twelve young witchers were not afraid, but their eyes lit up.

They have had enough of the day-long sparring and training in Kyle Mohan, and they urgently need actual combat to test the results of their training.

Squirrel Party, the perfect training target!

"By the way, a motorcade crossed the bridge and headed south not long ago. It should join you all. It will be dark," he said tactfully to see off the guests.

"That team will definitely stop for a break. Everyone, please follow along and take care of each other."

From Kaldwin to Ireland.

Fortress attacked by the Squirrel Party.

A dusty memory emerged from Roy's mind, and he couldn't help being a little excited.

"What are you waiting for?"

Roy waved at the team behind him, and the wagon team quickly left the broken bridge.

Until the figure disappeared completely, the soldiers in the fortress and the resting passersby breathed a sigh of relief.

"Brothers, cheer up tonight, be on guard, and work hard!"

Despite admiring the Witcher's record of killing the Squirrel Party and their superhuman combat prowess, everyone didn't want to be in the same room with dangerous mutants.

There were only a dozen or so of Nuocheng destroyed, this time more than 20.

Could it have become another group of temple guards without realizing it

Thanks to the propaganda of the bard, and the new book written by the Archbishop of Eternal Fire - "The Demon Hunter is not the evil people imagined, but also can bathe in the eternal fire".

Nowadays, the Northern People's Congress has a basic consensus that the best way to treat witchers is to stay away.

The light faded away, and the night fell.

In a fertile field not far from the bridge to the south.

A pile of carriages circled around the gravel road, and a yellow bonfire in the center illuminated the white canvas beside the carriages.

A group of people are talking around the campfire.

Yu—

A sudden high-pitched horse neigh shattered the silent night.

The people in the bonfire suddenly jumped up, waving warhammers and axes with both hands, ready to aim their crossbow, and hid behind the carriage as if facing the enemy.

Their reactions were as irritable as spirits, but fortunately there was a sense of reason, knowing to ask a question before making a move.

"Who is it!" a dwarf shouted with a broken gong, his short and stout body stuck behind the carriage like a stump.

"Don't get excited, man, it's a friend!" A witcher with a horse came out of the night.

White hair flutters, and the albino face is quite striking.

"Why don't you say you're a ghost? Who are you frightening with a dead face?!" The dwarf put down his axe cursingly, and threw the beard that hung down from his waist onto his shoulders, "But unless I'm blind, it looks like I'm blind. So scary, only Geralt of Rivia!"

"Good evening, Alpen Zigrin..." Geralt threw a bottle of wine at the bearded dwarf and smiled, "It's been ten years since the last time we parted from the Kestra Mountains?"

Yarpan undid the cork eagerly, the aroma of the wine filled him, he took a big sip, his yellow teeth flashed, and every beard was dancing happily.

"Yes, serious Mahakam spirits! Guys, clear the alarm, it's a friend!"

There was a breath of relief from the crowd of dwarves.

Dozens of well-armed warriors poured out from the center of the carriage, and the light of the bonfire suddenly became brighter, and the light illuminated the other horses in the darkness behind the witcher, and a dozen pairs of beast-like pupils that flickered dimly.

And the dense crowd of children...

"Maha... Kan is on top, is it my eyes... dazzled?!" The big tongue dwarf involuntarily put down his heavy hammer and looked at a black-haired, gray-eyed witcher in the crowd, his eyes staring at copper bells, spewing out his mouth Spit Xingzi, "Reagan! Did I read it wrong, it's a bit...and...a little different...he is...he-"

"No, you read that right," the crossbowman wrapped the eating man back on his back, and suddenly walked out of the crowd and walked to the black-haired witcher, his big iron pincer-like hand firmly grasped him,

He hugged again.

But his head had just reached the witcher's chest, like a son with dwarfism hugging his father affectionately.

"Haha, Roy, good friend! I didn't expect to meet you here! What did you eat, why did you grow so tall all of a sudden?!"

"That bald head is Master Letho, right!"

Letho squeezed into a smile on his stiff cheeks and waved.

"Regan Dahlberg, Bernie..." Roy's silver-gray pupils swept across two familiar hairy faces, and he couldn't contain the excitement in his tone, as if he had returned to the prosperous years of Mahakam.

"I haven't seen you for four years, how are you?"