The Divine Hunter Chapter 21: The appearance of the legend
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It was later recorded in the book that he came from the overgrown fortress in the north, with white hair, carrying two swords on his back, leading the loaded horses, passed through the Ropemaker's Gate, and brought King Brugg's Secret order, stepping into the Brockleon Forest——
At noon, the witcher stopped somewhere in the forest. He squatted down and rubbed the fresh blood on the grass with his calloused index finger and thumb. His nose distinguished the composition of the blood. The dark color Maotong chased the blood, and soon he found the first body.
The corpse looked very young, but a man in his twenties. He was lying on his back with his feet spread apart. The stiff and frightened face before death was frozen and lingered for a long time.
However, the witcher understood that the man died on the spot. He didn't even have time to suffer before he died. The crude arrow passed through his eye socket and poured into his skull.
The witcher gently closed his glaring eyes and stood up. The man's well-developed muscles and calluses on his hands proved that he had undergone systematic training with equipment during his lifetime. He was no ordinary person.
"Poachers, or hunters who collect Erver's bounty?" King Erver of Verden has always regarded the tree spirits of Broklon as a thorn in his side and a thorn in his flesh, and has been secretly placing a bounty on the tree spirits for a long time. head.
Because humans want to cut down the trees of Broklon, the home where the tree spirits live.
He came to a distance of about six steps behind the corpse. A slanted arrow was inserted into the ground. From the depth of the arrow entering the soil and the angle of the arrow, he could almost tell which tree the tree spirit was hiding in to release the cold arrow. .
"With the tree spirit's archery skills, this arrow was intentionally shot crooked - a warning."
“The tree spirit who shoots arrows is not experienced enough and actually warns people in advance.”
The witcher remembered that decades ago, when the tree spirits were not so ruthless, would they warn humans who broke into the forest three times or four times in a row?
But today...
He shook his head and continued to move forward along the messy footprints stained with blood. He could ignore the corpses, but he could not leave the living alone. He thought that he might be able to catch up with these people and let them get out of the forest. Maybe he could escape with his life?
Although he never admits it, he is just such a person. His heart does not match his cold appearance. He is a bit indecisive and has a contradictory charm.
However, he soon realized that he was wrong. He found the second, third, and even fourth corpses. The ground around these three corpses was trampled to pieces, and moss and dead branches were deeply sunk into the soil. , indicating that they struggled for a long time before death and were very painful.
Suddenly, his ears moved and he heard a faint moan!
He quickly lifted up a pile of juniper branches and discovered the concealed hole.
Under the sunlight, I saw a strong man lying in the cave, wearing a deerskin tight jacket, leather pants, and a delicate mustache. However, at this time, his body was covered with mud, plant debris, and blood. , pale and in very bad condition.
The injured man felt movement and opened his eyes with difficulty.
"Geralt?!" He groaned slightly choked, doubts appearing in his bloodshot pupils, "What the hell! I have returned to the embrace of the goddess? Why is there an illusion?"
"Fresnet, you are not dreaming." Geralt shook his head, "The lesson of turning into a cormorant hasn't taught you how to be awe, so you dare to break into Broccolion?"
"Are you serious? God!" The man howled in pain, but there was a hint of anger on his face, "Geralt, help me, save her!"
"Save who?"
"Princess...uh...ah..." Fresnet coughed and spat out a mouthful of blood.
"Don't worry about the princess, dude! Take care of yourself first!"
The witcher cursed and jumped out of the hole. He wanted to find two small poplar trees, make them into a stretcher, and drag the man away.
Whoosh!
As soon as he took two steps, an eagle feather arrow shot into the tree trunk at the same height as his head. He rolled to the ground with lightning and flint, and whoosh, three more arrows were shot from three other angles.
It hit his previous position and almost penetrated him.
"Four tree spirits?"
The demon hunter's heart skipped a beat. No matter who he was, he couldn't escape when surrounded by four sharpshooters. He heard the faint sound of bow strings rubbing together again, and immediately shouted loudly,
"Ceadmil! Vaan Meathe Doon Canal! Essea Gwenblad!"
A vague reply came from the other side.
He survived, slowly raising his hands at the ready.
This time he was ordered to come for peace, not for battle, so he repeated, "Meath Esna! Essea Gwenblad."
"vort!"
Hearing this crisp voice, the demon hunter breathed a sigh of relief, took off his sword belt and let it fall to the ground.
Then with the gentle footsteps of a civet cat, a figure emerged from behind the tall fir trees.
She is petite and slender, and wears clothes made of natural bark and leaves. If you don't look carefully, you will definitely confuse her with a plant.
She wore a black scarf on her forehead, tied her olive green hair back, and had stripes painted with walnut juice on her face. Only her beautiful facial features could be seen roughly.
She was the only one who came out, and the other three tree spirits were still hiding somewhere, aiming at the witcher's vital points.
"T'enthesseinmeathaep llev?" She took six steps closer to the witcher and asked in an unusually beautiful voice,
"Ess'Gwenblad," the witcher stammered, "Ae... Do you speak Common Tongue? I'm not very good at Broklon dialect."
"Gwenbraed, White Wolf, Demon Hunter?" At this time, another dryad with brick-red hair came out and said to the Demon Hunter.
"Yes, I once lived in Brogue Leon, in Doon Canal. Ms. Aisna knows me. This time, with the goodwill of King Brugg, I came to see the lady for something important. Let’s talk.” Geralt’s expression and tone were as gentle as possible, even though his dead face couldn’t make too exaggerated an expression.
The olive-haired tree spirit glanced at the newcomer, who nodded to her. The tree spirit's eyes towards the witcher were no longer so sharp and murderous.
Seeing that the situation had stabilized, the witcher said, "There is an injured man in the cave over there. If no one saves him, he will die."
"Thaessaep!"
The third and fourth tree spirits also came out, raising their bows and arrows, and the tip of the arrow almost hit him in the face.
"You want him to choke to death on his own blood?" The demon hunter raised his voice and stared at the brick-red haired dryad with a look that was not too excessive. He knew that this man was giving orders.
"I assure you! The man in the cave and the guy you shot just now are neither bounty hunters nor poachers. They entered Broccolion to find someone!"
"Shut up!" the oldest dryad shouted in Common Tongue, and then pointed at the honey-haired compatriot, "She will take you to see Ms. Aisna."
"Is that the injured person?" the demon hunter asked reluctantly. He could not just sit back and ignore his friend.
"Just leave it alone," she replied, her eyes glancing between the other olive-haired dryad and the hole.
"Go and follow her to see Ms. Aisna."
……
Geralt followed the honey-haired dryad towards Doon Kanal, the center of Broklon. Although he noticed the hidden eyes of the brick-red haired dryad, he was not sure about the other party. Save Fresnet or not.
I can only pray for the old man from the bottom of my heart.
The two passed through a forest glade, a mist-filled valley, and withered and dilapidated woods.
The honey-haired dryad stopped again and looked around. Geralt took the opportunity to sit on a fallen branch to rest and think about the princess.
Suddenly, he heard a weird scream, short, harsh, and terrifying.
The tree spirit immediately knelt down on one knee, took out two arrows from the quiver, held one between his teeth, and pulled the string with the other, aiming at the bush.
The witcher's five fingers flexibly outlined a Quen seal, and he stepped across the bushes with great agility and came to the open space under a big tree.
In the middle of the clearing, there was a strange creature, curling up and making a baby-like sound toward the top of the tree.
It is dark brown all over, with a long arthropod trunk as thick as an arm, and barbed yellow legs and feet on both sides of the body.
This is a big centipede.
Its tentacles roamed nimbly under the big tree, its body curled up into an S shape, preparing to accumulate power before hunting.
"Yugon!"
The tree spirit came silently behind the witcher,
"Something on the hornbeam tree attracted it!"
"Hunting...don't care...leave." She lowered her voice and said in broken common language, "Don't provoke...Yughon..."
Geralt hesitated, feeling a strong premonition in his heart that if he left now, he would miss something extremely important.
Dark cat eyes stared at Horns tree, his expression frozen,
"Wait a minute, there's a hole in the tree, and there's... someone in there!"
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!
Just when the two of them stood still, the giant centipede suddenly burst out with clusters of blood flowers!
Immediately afterwards, a cloaked figure jumped out of the bushes - he rushed to Yugorn's side in a ghostly figure and turned around.
The sunlight reflected a dark red sword blade. As he rose and fell flexibly, the blade drew several afterimages in mid-air, breaking through the hard chitin carapace of Yogorn's body.
Emerald blood slid to the ground.
Ugorn let out a harsh sob, and instantly spread out countless pairs of legs and feet like paddles, and his lower body suddenly twitched!
With a crisp "pop" sound, the yellowish light on the cloaked man shattered, and he immediately rolled to the ground to avoid the bite. The moment he stood up, the sword blade lifted up and sliced open the gray abdominal carapace.
Slurry splashing.
Yugon was completely enraged. He no longer cared about the prey behind him, and coiled up his body to pounce at the sneak attacker.
Once, twice, three times, the air was pumped out with a "crackling" sound, and the cloaked man dodged in panic.
For the fourth time, it suddenly screamed.
The hot fire came from behind, and blisters appeared on the black carapace. It turned around angrily - a bunch of white hair was blown away by the strong wind. The second demon hunter who did not know when he joined the battle had a blue outline on his left hand. Right triangle seal, push forward!
"Bang!" The air exploded, and Yogen was pushed off balance.
"Whoosh!"
The dark red sword blade struck into the middle of its body, where the fragile carapace connects.
"Poof!"
The white-haired demon hunter stabbed its ferocious mouthparts with a precise sword. ~IndoMTL.com~ The next moment, it was frozen in place, with countless **** tentacles reflected in its pupils.
The dark red sword blade tilted up like lightning - a head was thrown high into the air and landed on the ground.
"Kill Yugorn, experience +120, Demon Hunter LV5 (3080/2500)."
Although it is dead, the giant centipede's mouthparts are still opening and closing, and the densely packed legs and feet on the half-body are squirming wildly, which is extremely horrifying.
Suddenly, a gust of breeze blew by, blowing away the faint smell of blood in the air.
The white-haired demon hunter waved his hand to shake off the green blood on his sword, and his dark cat eyes swept towards the opposite side.
The cloaked man lifted his hood and smiled brightly, revealing a face that was too young with dark gold pupils.
"Hey, Geralt, happy working together!"