God-level Demon Hunter

The two walked along the path in the center of the gray stone wall. Soon, when they passed the huge oak tree with a canopy on the side of the road, they raised their heads inadvertently, and their eyes suddenly focused.

Heck!

There is actually a ragged skeleton hanging in the dense forest, and a wooden sign is tied to his chest, which reads "the fate of collaborating with Nilfgaard" in the common language of the north.

When the wind blows, the branches, leaves and white bones sway, and there is a slight piercing sound echoing in the empty eye sockets, as if telling the pain and unwillingness before death.

Roy sighed in his heart about the confrontation between the North and the South, stepped over a few piles of livestock manure that could be seen everywhere, and entered the village entrance.

The farmers in the field and the children leaning on the fence looked over. One of the little boys in red pants screamed and ran away. The white-haired elder who was lying on the wicker chair in the yard and basking in the sun heard the movement and led the group of people with a cane. Several villages quickly surrounded him.

"Who are you? Why did you come to Kent Village?" The village chief stared at the long swords behind the two demon hunters with cloudy eyes, his brows were deeply furrowed in contemplation, and his dark and heavy eye bags protruded like frogs. But there was a faint trace of strange expectation on the wrinkled old face.

Roy showed the Snake badge on his chest generously, "We are demon hunters. Your Excellency the village chief, everyone, don't be nervous. We neither sell goods, nor ask for free food and drink, nor do we ask Ni Fogard tipped off, we just want to—"

"Demon hunter?" The village chief interrupted Roy with a trembling goatee on his chin. The wrinkles on the old face stretched like chrysanthemums, and he grabbed his hand excitedly, "Killed the Vizima vampire demon bird and Norvig Rui's Scoia'tael lunatic, a professional who exterminates all kinds of pests and monsters all over the world?!"

"Master the village head, our family needs a demon hunter!" A skinny man interjected, "There is a flying dragon stealing milk from our cow every night, sucking the cow's hide to swell!"

More villagers shouted, and a fat woman put her hands on her hips and complained with her eyes wide open.

"There's a silverback turtle in the Choate River that keeps stealing my stuff while I'm doing the laundry!"

"The miller in the east of the village likes to mix acorn powder into the flour. Can the witcher teach that bad old man what integrity is?! I'll give you an Oren!"

"The old hag Anan flies across the sky on a broomstick every night, making me so noisy that I can't sleep all night!"

"Ahem...quiet! Let me start by saying, the Grave Grassland—"

The village chief waved his cane and yelled weakly, but he couldn't control the enthusiasm of the villagers at all, and his voice was suppressed instead.

"Everyone, listen to me!" Roy frowned. In the past, he would still be interested in listening to these people talking nonsense about a bunch of monsters that didn't exist, but not today!

With a thought in his mind, thick blood flashed around the slender and straight body under the gray cloak, and a few tentacles were faintly swimming in the shadow under his feet.

The temperature dropped strangely.

A suffocating sense of oppression permeated the air.

This group of noisy rural folks immediately trembled and shut their mouths obediently like ducks being strangled.

Aiden took the opportunity to stand on the wooden stake at the entrance of the village, raised his voice solemnly, and ensured that the whole village could hear what he said next.

"I'm sorry, the witcher's business has been booming recently, and our work at hand has been backlogged until next month, and we really don't have time to take on more!"

"On the contrary, we are here to give you a chance to make money - we are tracking a person who landed on the bank of the Choate River this morning, but disappeared at the exit of the birch forest for no reason. Who can provide clues to help us find him? A generous reward is here!"

Aiden took out a roll of paper from his arms, stretched it out in front of his chest, and showed it to everyone by turning it left and right.

On the paper was a man with a bald head, amber vertical pupils, a scar on the left side of his face, and a gloomy expression.

Depicted by sorceress magic, it is so lifelike that it seems to be sneering at people.

The villagers looked at it for a moment, looking blankly at each other, as if they had never seen this guy before.

"Tell me, what reward?!"

A young man with a red neck yelled curiously.

"Two hundred orens!"

"Hiss - I can't read, but I'm not a fool, don't try to lie to me! Isn't it twenty or fifty?"

"Two hundred! We swear to the gods, we will do what we say!"

The faces of the onlookers turned red, they swallowed their saliva, clenched their fists, and panted heavily with red eyes. They had never seen such a large sum of money in their entire lives!

The villagers who had been secretly observing in the house could no longer hold back their restlessness, and rushed to the street one after another, stretching their necks to look at the portrait.

A woman ran too fast and bumped into a wooden fence and fell like a shit, her nose bleeds, but she just wiped it with the hem of her skirt, and then she stared at the painting, as if she was staring at some peerless treasure, and scrambled to shout,

"Bring it here! I can't see clearly!"

This is the irresistible magic of money, which can often achieve the goal most efficiently in the simplest and crudest way.

At the same time, a strange feeling surged in Roy's heart. They had always received commissions from their employers, but now their positions were reversed. For the first time ever, a demon hunter issued commissions to a group of ordinary people.

Well, help us find someone and give us money!

"I don't know this guy, I've never seen him." The elder took the scroll and looked at it for a moment, then shook his head regretfully, "Besides, no outsiders have entered the village in the past week, so you two may have come to the wrong place."

"Don't rush to answer, let's take a closer look..." Roy looked up, and two ghostly figures were flying behind the crowd, moving swiftly and stealthily like civet cats, going door to door and entering the empty house through the window.

It was Escal and Cohen who had been waiting for an opportunity before, and they sneaked into the house looking for smells, magic waves, and the basement.

As long as there are any clues of Gaitan, they cannot escape their detection.

As for Keyan, stand outside the village to prevent anyone who knows from slipping away.

Roy cleared his throat and started buying time for his companions,

"This guy has two swords on his back, a cat's head badge around his neck, and a serious injury that can only be cured by the witcher's unique secret formula. He is a big problem for you, keep dragging it on-you want the house suddenly Is there an extra corpse?"

"How did he get hurt?" asked a short man.

"Stalled with swords by robbers and brigands."

"So he's a good guy? Why are you looking for him? You're with him?" A little girl with braids asked innocently with her thumb in her mouth.

"He is very important to us." Roy said vaguely, pretending to reach into his arms, and took out a bulging money bag from the space.

slam-la-

The open mouth of the bag revealed a golden luster.

It dazzled the villagers.

Roy even generously took out one and gave it to the little girl. When the latter bit her front teeth, her brows and eyes were curved, and she danced around in circles.

"Everyone look at this painting, don't miss a single detail. Whoever can provide an effective clue, take it away immediately!"

Roy looked around and took a panoramic view of the enthusiasm on everyone's faces. His pupils shrank into a slit in an instant, and he poured cold water on his expression coldly.

"But the ugly words are up front, who dares to make up and deceive - our swords are not vegetarian!"

The strong sense of oppression that was about to come out, coupled with the terrible reputation that the demon hunter had gained in the past few years, instantly dispelled the idea of ​​a few villagers with roll-eyed eyes.

Next, the portraits were slowly passed among the people, and the sharp-eyed Aiden scanned the faces with piercing eyes, and he could tell who was lying and who was sincere at a glance.

A full hour later.

After vetoing several women's hallucinations of "I must have seen him somewhere" caused by money poisoning, the two got an expected result.

"Believe me now?" The village chief and the villagers around him looked at the demon hunter. Even if they couldn't get the money, they would stay together, "That guy has never been to the village."

Roy raised his head, and the two figures flying on the roof jumped into the corn field neatly, apparently gaining nothing.

"Are there any other settlements near Kent Village? Are there witch doctors and hunters living in the woods?" Aiden asked reluctantly,

"The nearest village within a radius of ten miles is on the other side of the Qiaote River." The village chief paused while stroking his beard, "But there is a small wooden house in the huge graveyard grassland to the northeast. A hairdresser lives in it...well... now it is In June, he should be there!"

Barber?

The two demon hunters couldn't help but exchanged glances. If it was said who was most likely to save Gaitan, it must be someone who was proficient in medical technology.

And the hairdresser, who is also a country doctor, is undoubtedly a suspicious object. He lives near the cemetery and is bold enough.

"What does it mean it should be there?" Aiden pressed.

"Mr. Godifoy is not a local. He only comes here every summer to pick herbs. In addition, he has been interrupted by these bastards before, so he didn't have time to say something," the village chief suddenly turned pale. There are a few more gravediggers, jumping on everyone! Mr. Godifoy may have been scared away long ago."

Roy prayed in his heart that the clue would not be broken here again, and his attitude became patient,

"Tell me carefully what the monster looks like and where it came from."

"I found those dirty things first," a gloomy man walked out of the crowd, said with lingering fear, "it looks like a leper whose skin has been stripped off and burned, emitting a rotting corpse-like stench. With pitch-black fangs and sharp claws, it moves on all fours like a beast, and its cry is as piercing as a night owl. At that time, I met its pitch-black eyes from tens of meters away, and I had a nightmare for a week."

"Fortunately, they didn't chase too far. They have been guarding the mound, overturning the tombstone, destroying the coffin, and ruining our relatives who have rested!" The big man said angrily with red eyes, lingering fear, "After all, this is Wei Sai The mistake of General Kidd’s soldiers was to hang the corpse of the Nilfgaardian spy outside the cemetery to dry, saying that it was an example to others, but the smell of the corpse attracted the group of dirty things and harmed us instead!”

The villagers nodded unanimously, the grief and fear on their faces overwhelmed the previous enthusiasm.

Roy nodded secretly.

The area around Kent Village belongs to the territory of Brugge, and King Wenslav fully supports the restoration of Sintra, which naturally gives the green light to General Visekid's actions.

As for the gravediggers, the ghouls are right, a trivial nuisance.

They made up their minds to find the barber.

"The two masters think that Mr. Godifoy saved the person in the painting?"

the village chief asked thoughtfully.

"Maybe?" Roy and Aiden bowed to the obediently cooperating villagers, and took out another fifty Oren and handed it to the village chief, asking him to distribute it to everyone, "We are going to leave now, thank you folks A mere gift is not a tribute."

"No, the old man doesn't want money. I'll take you to the Graveyard Grassland, but the two of you have to get rid of those animals...Let me mourn my poor daughter in front of the tombstone..." The old man ignored a bunch of stares around him The villager directly threw the purse to the witcher, poked the ground with the tip of his cane, and said with spit, "Believe me, that place is as intricate as a maze, and it will take a lot of time to find the barber. And because of my daughter's illness, I visit him several times a year, no one knows him better than me!"

Roy and Aiden looked at each other, and the entrustment to get rid of the ghouls was worth at least two hundred.

But witchers do show kindness once in a while, and more importantly, they have to hurry up.

"Then what are you waiting for, lead the way!"

"Too slow! Throw away the crutches, I'll carry you!"

Chapter 6 Nobody in the Tomb

The sun was slanting westward, and the evening mist shrouded the vast valley.

The demon hunters and the old village head arrived at the Grave Grassland. As far as they could see, there were protruding graves dotted all over, covered with moss and weeds, and some of the tombstones were just smooth stones, while others were simply yellow and rotten. of wood.

On the two-meter-high blood-stained wooden stake at the entrance, there were only a few isolated ropes that were cut from the middle. Several corpses that were hanging were torn off violently and scattered on the grass.Not only the body and head were separated, but the flesh and blood on the chest, abdomen and thighs were all picked off by something, exposing the white bones.

"Masters, isn't it too late today?" Village Dawo firmly grasped his cane, looked palely at the dying sun in the sky, and then turned to the messy corpses on the ground.

He realized that he was too impulsive and chose to enter the graveyard at dusk. The dark and bloody scene dampened his enthusiasm for visiting his daughter, and he suggested softly, "Why don't you go back to the village for one night and come back tomorrow morning? ——Not only are gravediggers hiding here, there are also vampires, ghosts and other ghosts running rampant... Aren’t we ‘delivering goods to your door’ now?”

"Although the night will strengthen the fighting power of the ghouls, please rest assured..." Escal casually picked up a wooden sign with the words "God damn spy of the Nigerian country" at his feet, and pointed his chin at Roy who was inspecting the corpse in front of him. , "Did you see this guy with silver gray eyes? With him here, even if a giant dragon strikes, he can still be killed."

Davao secretly disagrees, this one looks only 20 years old, is the youngest among the four witcher masters, and has the most "thin" body, and only bluffs to frighten the villagers. It is probably difficult to deal with a water ghost, let alone a giant dragon.But Escal's bragging made him feel less fearful.

"It's a pity everyone, this time I can't appreciate the heroic appearance of the dragon," Roy said, throwing away a gnawed bare arm, and walked into the burial ground shrouded in fog and darkness, "There are only three ghouls Destroying graves everywhere. Come on, let's send them on their way."

He uncorked a silver jar and shook it. Immediately, a stench overflowed the bottle, and was sent into the depths of the cemetery along with the night wind, luring monsters that were about to move in the mist.

Escal, Aiden, and Kayan pulled out their silver swords at the same time, surrounded the frightened old village head, and bared their white teeth at him.

"Old man Davao, where does the barber's house go?"

"Go west first, Irene's grave is over there, ouch, what are you guys doing!"

"Sit tight, old man!"

The three demon hunters directly lifted Davo's feet off the ground, and made him enjoy a rickshaw without laughing or laughing.

The scene around Davao is like flying backwards——the interior of the cemetery is even more shocking. Graves dug up by violence can be seen everywhere. Sleeping pitifully on the grass, the tooth marks on the surface are clearly visible, like bones gnawed by dogs.

"Tell me about that Mr. Godifoy, how old is he? What does he look like?" The red-eyed man on the left who raised his thigh interrupted his thoughts,

"He is about forty years old..." The old man was distracted, his stiff muscles softened, and he described in detail, "He has gray hair, a tall and thin body, a hooked nose like an aristocrat, and he likes to wear clothes A black leather jacket with dozens of pharmacy pockets sewn on it doesn't look like a countryman at all, have you ever seen a tax collector?"

Dawo took a deep breath, and smiled so that crow's feet clearly appeared in the corners of his eyes, as if seeing a kind old friend,

"He looks so mean, but if you get to know him for a while, you will find that he is a warm-hearted and kind person in essence. I have lived for more than 50 years, and I have never seen such a selfless and kind person. Do you know that he replaced my Irene and the poor folks treat diseases and only charge the most basic herbal medicine fee."

Roy, who was walking in the forefront, slowed down, and an inexplicable sense of familiarity rose in his heart.

"He worships some benevolent god or the way of nature?"

Aiden picked up a torch and lit it with Igni, and the flames dispelled the darkness.

In his impression, only priests and druids who left the temple to travel would treat patients without asking for anything in return.

"No, no, he never talked to me about anything about faith, he's a pragmatist. Wait, now head north!"

"Then is there anything special about him? For example, his agility and special temperament?"

Gaitan can only be taken away without leaving a trace at a speed far exceeding that of ordinary people.

"I have old arms and legs and I haven't competed with him in running. How do I know how fast he is?" The old man's eyes flashed a hint of memory, and he said in wonder, "But every time I bring little Irene to visit him, I often When I turn around, I can’t see him, and when I try to find him, he always jumps up in front of me from unexpected places, as if...intentionally scaring people.”

The corners of the witchers' mouths twitched, feeling weird. Is the hairdresser so wicked?

"As for other characteristics, his superb haircutting skills and medical skills are the most recommended."

The old man who was erected stroked his chicken coop-like messy hair with his withered palms, and said braggingly,