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Witcher: The Half Elf

Wayne, a former sports student, found himself in an unexpectedly awkward situation after a fatal accident involving a dump truck. Instead of continuing his previous life, he was reborn as a half-elf-witcher at Kaer Morhen. This transformation left him feeling out of place in a world filled with unruly individuals, flourishing malevolent deities, rampant monsters, and inept kings and nobles. Yet, Wayne couldn't help but feel that he was endowed with numerous advantages. ______________________________ Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or the fanfic I was merely translating this. Note: This is a Chinese Translation 巫师:这个猎魔人不务正业 You can support me on Patreon and Read 10 Chapters in advance patreon.com/Lil674

LIl_wretch · Book&Literature
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165 Chs

The way forward is blocked

After the chaos subsided, the atmosphere in the camp became tense and suspicious. Many were wary, suspecting traitors among them, and casting suspicious glances at each other in an attempt to identify the culprits.

Some speculated that members of the scouting team were responsible, as city militias and guilds were mobilizing troops to enter the mountains. Hindering King Niedamir's progress could allow them to seize the dragon's treasure.

Others pointed fingers at Mage Dorregarey, citing his radical beliefs in the balance of all things. He preached against hunting the green dragon, and the rapid spread of the fire suggested magical involvement.

There were also suspicions directed at the dwarf squad, the three Brothers, or even Yennefer. Their power could eliminate obstacles without needing many supplies, potentially allowing them to proceed with dragon hunting unhindered.

However, amidst the speculations, it was King Niedamir who harbored the most frustration. In his opulent tent, he sat furiously on his throne, glaring at the kneeling Gyllennsteen whose forehead dripped with sweat.

"You incompetent fool! Your negligence has ruined our entire operation," the young king seethed. "With no food or horses, how do you expect my soldiers to proceed with the dragon hunt?"

Gyllensteen wiped the sweat from his forehead and tentatively looked up at the monarch's expression before making a suggestion, "Your Majesty, why don't we hurry and send someone to Holobur City to buy supplies? It only takes a day or two to go back and forth."

Niedamir's dissatisfaction was evident as he angrily retorted, "It's a free city, not my territory. I can't order them. The guild and militia in the city are also eyeing the dragon's treasure. Do you think they'll sell us horses? And if this drags on for a few more days, the dragon might have already flown away."

Gyllensteen swallowed nervously and proposed again, "Then why don't we discard the extra supplies, pack lightly, and have the soldiers march up the mountain? We can resolve this matter quickly, Your Majesty."

Niedamir's anger flared, and he kicked the fat manager angrily, shouting, "Do you want me to hike up the mountain like a farmer? Without those supplies, if something happens to us on the mountain and we're stranded, it won't take four days, but five. My hungry soldiers will abandon me, and the nobles under my command will be killed. I'll find another puppet to take my place. Retreat, withdraw all our forces. I've said it before, Maruel's throne is mine. There's no need to venture into the mountains to hunt down that damned dragon."

"I have cavalry and infantry in Caingorn, enough to fight against their troops. They'll eventually recognize my legal status. As long as I carve a bloody path, they'll acknowledge me. As for their princess, the fat cow, I won't grow old with her. As long as I use her to bear my child, I can dispose of her in the old courtly way. I have said enough, Gyllensteen, it's time to carry out my orders."

"Let our people withdraw before entering the Great Mountain Range. I shouldn't have listened to your suggestion to participate in this damn dragon hunting."

"But Your Majesty, the people of Maruel believe in that prophecy..."

The fat steward Gyllensteen wanted to say something more but was mercilessly interrupted by the young king.

"Shut up, I don't need that prophecy or the support of the people. As long as I defeat their army, the throne is mine. Follow my orders, retreat now, hurry up, or I'll let the soldiers whip you hard."

Although the young king's wisdom is not outstanding, his action is not weak. Following his retreat order, more than half of the originally mighty dragon-hunting team left in the blink of an eye. Only the eight scouts led by the shoemaker Kozojed, the three brothers, Yarpen the dwarf and his bearded men, the knight Eyck, Geralt, Yennefer, Jaskier, and Master Dorregarey remained, totaling just over 20 people. These people are either for wealth, fame, belief, or their own ulterior motives, and none of them intend to withdraw.

Without the encumbrance of the large troops, their speed increased significantly. In less than half a day, they walked most of the mountain road and arrived at a simple stone bridge on the upper reaches of the Bula River.

Looking at the dilapidated and crumbling stone bridge, the three brothers who were walking at the forefront of the team suddenly hesitated. Boholt, the eldest, looked back at the dwarf Yarpen and said with some hesitation, "Hey! Dwarf friend, this bridge doesn't look very strong. Can it bear the weight of horses and men?"

Yarpen did not answer, instead, he looked at Kozoyed, the oldest member of the reconnaissance team. Being a shoemaker in his forties, Kozoyed had lived in the area for the longest time and was likely the most knowledgeable about the mountain terrain.

After pondering for a moment, Kozojed spoke up, "This stone bridge was built by trolls in the past. They intended to collect tolls here, but due to the sparse traffic in these deep mountains, they eventually abandoned it. It should be decades old, but trolls are known for their sturdy craftsmanship."

Seeing the uncertain expressions of the group, Kozoyed continued, "Of course, you can choose to take another route along the mountainside, which will add about two days to our journey."

However, neither Kozojed nor the young men of the scouting team were willing to test the bridge's safety firsthand. No one wanted to risk their lives for the sake of others' assurance of safety.

Yet, among the group, there was one knight, Eyck, who placed more value on faith than life itself. Whether he had overheard the discussion or not, he shouted, "The gods will protect me, and justice will triumph over evil!"

Without hesitation, Eyck spurred his warhorse and galloped across the stone bridge at a breakneck speed. His heavily armored mount's hooves hammered against the ancient stones, dislodging gravel that tumbled down into the depths of the cliff and into the rushing waters of the Bula River below.

After crossing the bridge, Eyck showed no signs of slowing down. He continued on towards the dragon's nest, moving at a deliberate pace. It was clear that the knight had no desire to linger with the others. In his eyes, none of them were worthy of respect; they were either greedy robbers, malevolent sorceresses, or mutated witchers.

Using this obstacle as an opportunity, Eyck broke away from the group, seeking to uphold the justice he believed in within his own heart.

The three brothers were initially terrified but breathed a sigh of relief upon witnessing the Ike knight's safe passage. Unbeknownst to them, Wayne had sabotaged the bridge the previous day, rendering it impassable for others.

Wayne's intention was twofold: to dissuade Niedamir from persisting in the dragon hunt and to isolate those aiming for the mountain's summit. However, Wayne didn't anticipate that Knight Eyck would successfully charge across the bridge, whether due to luck or divine favor.

Unfortunately, shortly after Eyck's daring crossing, accompanied by ominous creaks and cracks, the ancient stone bridge, constructed by trolls decades ago, collapsed into rubble, plummeting into the river below. This dramatic event unfolded before the eyes of Wayne and Borch, who were concealed near the mountain's peak.

Turning to Borch, Wayne smiled and remarked, "It's your turn to play, my friend. Knight Eyck is a paragon of chivalry and faith, despite his eccentricities. He will honorably face you in combat, but if possible, spare his life. Good souls are becoming increasingly rare in this world."

Borch chuckled, nodding in agreement. "You handled the situation deftly, my friend. Those who still pursue dragon hunting now deserve the consequences. While Eyck may be revered among your northern brethren, he may be seen differently by demihuman races or other less conventional creatures."

Knight Eyck may appear noble to some, but to others, he's nothing more than a merciless executioner. In his narrow worldview, only a select few races are deemed worthy of survival, while the rest are considered expendable."