A person in American horror, wearing two versions of The Witcher

More than half an hour later, deep inside the salt cave.

"Darkness, blood, corpses, stench—the air was thick with the smell of plague."

"Pain congeals together, creating polluted and malevolent spirits."

"The Crimson Plague Demon, this ghost born from the deaths of young and old, descending from rotting flesh, invaded my body the moment I stepped into the cave."

"I don't have the strength to resist anymore."

"I can only lock it up with myself in the salt cave."

Standing before the stalactite fragments, Philip read aloud the words on the parchment. It was the "Fourth Letter from Leonard," which Roy had previously hidden away.

Behind him, the spirit Leonard listened to others read the letter with a mixture of bewilderment, embarrassment, and a touch of... excitement.

After reading aloud, Philip turned around and pointed at Leonard, saying:

"Just reading those words makes me want to have a whiskey to calm down."

"But here, there is a person who has silently written down and practiced such sorrow, and has held on for more than three hundred years!"

"Brothers, please tell me, what should we call someone like this?"

"Hero!" the armored soldiers in front of Philip shouted in unison.

They all had strips of cloth tied in front of their noses, but this strange appearance did not prevent them from raising their fists to express their respect.

No one is stingy with praise for the dead!

"Then who caused our hero to be buried here for nearly three hundred years?" Philip asked, then read aloud from the parchment:

Listen to this part:

"My throat is hoarse from shouting, but they still won't let me out."

"Now I know why death is everywhere..."

"...

"Brothers, who is it? Who trapped and killed our hero?"

"Who is it?" the armored soldiers shouted, raising their fists.

"Then let's look at another testimony!" Philip pulled out the next one and read aloud:

"Father Edgar tortured the ringleaders and decided to seal off the mine. I asked him, 'Then who will take care of the wounded?'"

The priest said, "They're all going to die anyway!"

"Father Edgar eventually locked everyone up inside and they all died."

"I can't believe that brothers in the church would do such a thing to the patients they are caring for?"

But I also have to believe it, because I am here waiting for death to fall...

"The only thing I can do is to record these cruel crimes, and I only ask that those who see them will make them public."

Philip's raised fist became a single finger, and he shouted:

"So, who was it? Who trapped and killed our hero?"

"It's the priest!" the armored soldiers shouted.

"It's a priest!" the armored soldiers said again.

"Yes, he's a priest, a pastor!" Philip said, his voice turning somber again.

"But the priest who harmed our hero is dead. We can no longer try him. Three hundred years have passed, and none of the parties involved are still alive. What else can we do?"

"What can we do?" a soldier asked in a low voice.

"What can we do?" another question was asked.

"We can judge another sinner priest who is trying to harm today's heroes and has repeated the crimes of the past!" shouted another armored soldier who had already prepared his words.

"Yes! We must not forget the heroes of the past, and we must not let go of the villains who harm them today!"

Philip pointed to the cave entrance and ordered:

"Bring me the criminals you've caught."

"Bring it up!"

"Bring it up!"

At the cave entrance, two armored soldiers grabbed the priest who had gone back on his word and threw him in front of the crowd.

After Leonard met the priest, black smoke also rose from his spirit.

"Do you have anything else to say in your defense?" Philip shouted.

And he listened symbolically for a few seconds.

The armored soldier in front of the priest couldn't help but twitch his lips. Although they all had strips of cloth tied to their faces, the armored soldier's strips were tied to his nose, while the priest's strips were tied to his mouth by his own hands.

Philip glared at him, then stood up and shouted:

"The pastor admitted his crime, and he had nothing to say in his defense."

"Trial!"

"Trial!"

The soldiers shouted and roared, their voices echoing through the cave.

The pent-up frustration they had accumulated in the village, and the burning desire for a turnaround beneath that frustration, all coalesced into a unified shout at this moment—

"Trial!"

The lords' soldiers, including Rad, and the servants of the Eternal Flame, who were watching from the sidelines, dared not utter a single dissenting voice amidst this frenzied spectacle.

I estimate that when they go to report, they will all be hesitant.

"Therefore, I declare that, based on the pastor's serious crimes of deception and false accusation..."

"The priest is hereby ordered to pay the agreed-upon fee with the Witcher, and the priest's remaining property is confiscated."

"And based on the serious crimes committed by the pastors and priests of the Eternal Flame sect,

"I hereby declare that the Eternal Flame’s assets in Velen will be temporarily confiscated until the sect has completed its atonement and elected a priest who is recognized by all the soldiers and people of Velen. The sect’s assets will then be transferred to the priest."

"As for the prisoner priest..."

"We request our hero to specify the method of execution!"

Philip looked back as he spoke.

He was actually terrified of the spirit Leonard, but the prospect of a bright future also gave him endless courage!

"hero!"

"hero!"

"Trial!"

The cheers and gazes of the armored soldiers were all turned to Leonard with fervor.

The black smoke above Leonard's spirit body paused for a moment due to the shout.

He? A hero?

Tsk!

Honestly, this kind of adoration that I never experienced in my lifetime is truly wonderful!

"Hero, choose a way to execute the sinner. After he is executed, we should also erect a monument outside to record your deeds and the truth that the abandoned priest wanted to reveal," Philip urged.

"Huh... a monument?" The spirit Leonard was genuinely overwhelmed with surprise upon hearing Philip's words.

He is now a spirit; gold and silver are meaningless to him. The only thing he might care about is his posthumous reputation.

Not only are they hailed as heroes, but they are also revered and commemorated by later generations.

He was so stunned by the shock that he almost forgot about execution and hurriedly said:

"Let's remember others. I'm not some saint, I'm just a witcher."

"Senior, you endured for three hundred years without succumbing to the Crimson Plague Demon. No matter how it tempted you, you persevered until we arrived and we destroyed it. Why shouldn't your three hundred years of perseverance be commemorated?" Roy, who had been hidden among the armored soldiers, stepped forward and shouted.

Leonard was taken aback for a moment, then laughed!

He seemed to recall his three-hundred-year-old steadfastness, or perhaps the hatred in his heart dissipated because he knew the pastor's fate.

As he laughed, the black smoke around him began to dissipate, and the solidification of his spiritual body gradually faded.

Until, it turned into a wisp of smoke blowing past Roy's ear:

"Thank you, my child, for not letting my three hundred years of perseverance become a joke."

"This is what you deserve, senior!"

Roy murmured, hearing Philip's question:

"Master, this priest?"

"Gang him up!" Roy said coldly.

"Quickly, recruits, set up the gallows!"

……

In the afternoon, at a bandit camp near the river.

Roy, his hands covered in blood, got up from in front of a robber, sealed the prepared local specialties, and put them in a bag.

"I'm leaving now, Uncle!" He walked to the river to wash his hands and bid Geralt a final farewell.

"I should head back to Kaer Morhen. After getting my paycheck from that morning, my Oren is so heavy even my radish is crying out in protest," Geralt replied, leading his horse.

"Take care, uncle, I have to go save my girl!"

"Oh, by the way, here, take this knife. Don't refuse; you've been glancing at it way more often than at the rifle these past few days!"

Roy unfastened the goose-feather knife from his waist and handed it over.

Geralt did not refuse. He took the waist knife from the trapezoidal wooden sheath, drew it, and swung it a few times.

The goose-feather blade is light and agile, and the Wolf School sword dance emphasizes lightness and agility, so he really liked this blade.

After the dance, he placed the knife on the ground, unfastened the steel sword from his back, and handed it over:

"Don't refuse, this is our Wolf Pack's steel sword—the Wolf!"

It was also his favorite steel sword!

"I won't refuse, uncle. I'll treat you well!" Roy solemnly accepted the sword, then replied flippantly.

He disliked solemnity and preferred speed.

"You want to practice... never mind, just keep it as a keepsake! Your rifle is definitely better than this thing..."

Geralt, somewhat helplessly, finally said:

"By the way, did you foresee our reunion, kid?"

"I foresaw it... Teacher!"

……

(Image reprinted from a website called "The Witcher 3 All Weapons Guide" @SAM7SF)