webnovel

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 · 書籍·文学
レビュー数が足りません
288 Chs

Killing

Wayne's striking appearance exuded an intense intimidation, particularly due to the cold, murderous intent apparent in every one of his movements. This instilled a sense of fear in the Wild Dog Gang, a group of small-time thieves accustomed to causing chaos in the market.

However, despite Wayne's formidable presence, the gang held a substantial numerical advantage. Setting aside the unfortunate seven or eight members who had fallen victim to Wayne's actions, approximately 20 remained on the farm. Adding the vicious dogs they had under their control, the total number had surpassed forty.

With such overwhelming numbers, it was not only sufficient for encircling and subduing an individual but could potentially lead to devastating consequences for an entire village.

A robust man with a bald head and a scarred face, wielding a steel knife, appeared to be the de facto leader of the Wild Dog Gang. He was the first to react to the situation, promptly seizing a young man beside him, "Go and inform the boss that there is a strong enemy attacking us, let the boss come to support us."

Having given the order, the bald-headed man pushed the young messenger away, pointed his steel knife at Wayne, and declared, "Don't be afraid, he is alone with just a sword. No matter how formidable he may be, our sheer numbers can easily overwhelm him. Let's drown him in a sea of our collective strength. Release the dogs, let them tear him apart."

Upon receiving the leader's command, other members of the Wild Dog Gang inserted two fingers into their mouths and emitted a series of loud whistles, as if summoning courage for the impending confrontation.

Upon hearing the whistles, the vicious dogs beside the Wild Dog Gang appeared to have received a command. Their expressions and movements intensified, their eyes glowed fiercely, and their mouths emitted harsh barks as they surged toward Wayne in a swarm. Approximately twenty of these trained dogs, not much weaker than wild wolves in terms of strength and speed, sprinted on all fours, reaching Wayne in just a matter of seconds.

However, facing these wild beasts with open mouths and dripping saliva, Wayne had already devised a strategy. As the saying goes, fire is a powerful weapon, and these shiny, fur-covered vicious dogs were like torches waiting to be ignited.

Before the Wild Dog Gang members could issue any orders, Wayne had accumulated magic power in his hands. When four or five of the dogs approached him, he unleashed an Igni Sign, expelling about one-third of the magic power within him. Instantly, orange-red flames with suffocating heat engulfed the space about ten meters in front of Wayne. Not only were the dogs in the immediate vicinity ignited, but even those behind were affected.

Their shiny fur proved to be an excellent accelerant, turning them into burning torches one by one within the intense flames. The once ear-piercing barks transformed into desperate howls of dying, and the pungent odor of burnt fur permeated the farm.

Fire, being the bane of all animals, struck fear into the hearts of these creatures. Witnessing almost half of their canine companions burned to charcoal, the remaining dogs, despite their master's calls, hesitated to advance. Clamping their tails and restlessly scratching the ground with their limbs, they refused to move forward.

Squinting his eyes, Wayne surveyed the aftermath of the seal with satisfaction. The strengthened Igni sign demonstrated a destructive power beyond the realm of mere trickery, surpassing the fire spells wielded by warlocks. If some warlocks were to witness this scene, they might find themselves astonished.

The Wild Dog Gang members on the farm, unaccustomed to the wider world, were terrified by the unfamiliar sight. As urban troublemakers, they had never encountered a genuine spellcaster before, and the formidable power of Wayne's Igni Sign seriously undermined their confidence. This ragtag group faced Wayne's swift onslaught, and several members, overwhelmed with fear, dropped their weapons and retreated a few steps back.

Muttering to himself, one member exclaimed, "Wizard, it's a wizard! Those monsters are coming to kill us." Despite the boldness of the bald man, Wayne's spells had not left him unscathed. He swallowed nervously, observed the cowardice of his subordinates, and contemplated the impending punishment from their boss for the losers.

"Don't be afraid, everyone, rush forward! He can only cast the spell once. With our numbers, we can easily subdue him," the bald man urged. Witnessing the hesitancy of his followers, he resorted to threats, saying, "Think about your fates. If you run, the boss will surely feed you to Hogg afterward."

The mention of Hogg seemed to strike fear into the hearts of the Wild Dog Gang members. Upon hearing the name, those who had been momentarily distracted regained their courage. A few straightforward individuals raised their weapons and charged toward Wayne with screams.

This time, Wayne opted not to cast any. Instead, he enveloped himself in a layer of Quen shield and confronted the approaching attackers. Although the Igni sign was potent, Wayne recognized the need to conserve his magical energy, unsure of the challenges he might face ahead.

The first adversary Wayne confronted was a stout man with a robust physique. Clad in brown leather armor and wielding a mace, the man, accustomed to street fighting, sought to use his bulk body to overpower Wayne, who wielded a steel sword.

Wayne steadily took a half-step to the right, evading the oncoming attacker's pounce with nimble agility. Simultaneously, his steel sword thrust upward at an angle, piercing directly into the throat of his assailant. The inertia of the staggered body led to the sword slicing through, severing half of the neck in a swift motion.

A middle-aged man, who had been following closely, was momentarily taken aback by Wayne's precise movements. Despite this, he had already rushed in front of Wayne, instinctively raising the axe in his hand and shouting as he brought it down.

Confronted with this unskilled attack, Wayne merely turned sideways without altering his footwork, effortlessly avoiding the trajectory of the axe. His steel sword swung mercilessly sideways, severing the man's two arms that held the axe. The sword then pulled upward, slicing open the man's stomach, leaving him writhing on the ground, clutching his exposed internal organs and howling in misery.

After dealing with two members in quick succession, Wayne shook off the blood from his sword and advanced expressionlessly towards the remaining members of the Wild Dog Gang.

The third assailant wielded a rusty scythe, possibly a former farmer. He bent down in an attempt to cut Wayne's legs with the scythe, inadvertently exposing his neck in the process. Wayne harbored no mercy; his steel sword moved even faster. Before the man's sickle could touch his legs, Wayne's sword flashed, swiftly decapitating him.

As blood sprayed like a fountain onto Wayne's face, a warm sensation stirred destructive desires within him. Wayne's eyes gleamed brightly. Having dealing with the three of them consecutively, he found dealing with these humans seemingly easier than fighting with drowners.

The lack of hesitation and fear in the drowner's attacks set them apart. The primary difference lay in the fact that the mob before him lacked any professional training, relying solely on instinctive and clumsy attacks. It seemed like a mere jest to challenge a sword master with over a decade of training. The swift, clean killings by Wayne seemed to instill fear in the remaining gang members, as he dispatched three of them in less than ten seconds.

The efficiency displayed by Wayne was overwhelming for these gangsters who typically relied on their numbers for blackmail and bullying, shaking their usual bravado to its core. Some gang members experienced dizziness, lingering fear in their hearts, and numbness in their limbs.

However, the lead bald man, undeterred by the gruesome killings before him, gritted his teeth and locked eyes with Wayne. As a military deserter with battlefield experience, he may not have been deemed particularly brave, but he understood from witnessing wars that swordsmanship masters faced challenges similar to ordinary people when besieged.

Witnessing the scattered hearts and unstable morale among his comrades, a mix of timidity and ferocity flashed through the bald man's thoughts. To boost their morale, he raised the steel knife in his hand, exchanged glances with his members, and shouted emphatically, "Hold on, follow me! The boss will be here soon. When he arrives, this guy will be dead. We must shatter his bones and tear him into pieces to avenge our fallen brother."

After delivering this rallying cry, the bald-headed man felt a surge of determination and took the lead, charging towards Wayne with a weapon in hand.