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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 · 書籍·文学
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288 Chs

The Kidnapped Children

Fire, a natural enemy against flesh and blood, proved brutally effective. Triss' flames weren't mere embers – they were magical constructs imbued with potent energies. Within moments, the coordinated assault of witcher and sorceress left only charred corpses in its wake – both the snarling wolves and the monstrous crows now lay lifeless on the forest floor.

Exhaling deeply, Triss turned to Wayne, a flicker of awe in her emerald eyes. During their previous encounter in the catacombs, the sorceresses hadn't witnessed his combat prowess firsthand. But here, beneath the emerald canopy, they'd seen it in all its deadly glory.

"Your strength and speed are leagues beyond a normal human," Triss admitted, a hint of grudging respect in her voice. "Is this the power of every witcher, Wayne?"

A hint of a wry smile played on Wayne's lips. "Above average, perhaps," he replied coolly. "Among witchers, I wouldn't say the absolute best, but certainly on the higher end."

Triss stifled a laugh, her crimson lips curving into a smile. Glancing at the fallen creatures, she asked:

"What now, Wayne?" Triss asked, a hint of respect in her voice. "As the expert here, do you suggest we head straight for the target location, or take some time for further preparations?"

A flicker of satisfaction crossed Wayne's features. This was the respect Triss offered those worthy of it. Unlike some sorceresses, particularly Yennefer or that haughty coven you call a lodge, who reveled in dictating terms, Triss valued collaboration.

"Based on witcher experience with Leshens," Wayne began, his voice low and measured, "they typically establish three or four totem poles at the fringes of their territory. Each one acts as a conduit, amplifying the Leshen's power. Leaving them intact will undoubtedly make this creature a far tougher opponent, though not invincible."

Triss's expression sharpened. She'd brushed up on Leshen lore herself, scouring dusty tomes. But as Wayne said, a witcher's knowledge came from the brutal crucible of experience, not mere scholarly musings. Warlocks relied on conjecture and analysis, while witchers dealt in the harsh realities of the monster world.

"Then finding and destroying these totems becomes our priority," Triss declared, determination glinting in her emerald eyes. "They shouldn't be difficult to spot – such eyesores wouldn't blend in easily. Let's circle the area and eradicate these sources of the Leshen's strength."

Wayne offered a curt nod, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of Electric blade. The thrill of the hunt coursed through him. Together, they urged their steeds forward, riding deeper into the heart of the Leshen's domain.

The ancient forest pressed in around them, sunlight barely piercing the dense canopy. Vines snaked across the ground, and venomous creatures lurked in the shadows. It was a hunter's paradise, but a treacherous one.

A sudden commotion – a cacophony of roars, shrieks, and desperate shouts – shattered the oppressive silence. Wayne and Triss exchanged a swift glance, urgency flickering in their eyes.

They spurred their horses forward, bursting through the undergrowth. A clearing emerged, revealing a brutal tableau. Villagers, armed with crude farm implements, desperately fended off a pack of snarling wolves and a flock of menacing crows.

But the most fearsome sight was a hulking troll, its body encased in a stony hide. It wielded a massive log, its guttural roars echoing through the trees. This monstrous guardian protected a grotesque totem fashioned from bones, its presence empowering the creatures around it.

Though outnumbered, the villagers fought with a desperate courage. One young man, his dark hair streaked with sweat, stood out. Allen, Wayne recognized with a jolt. Yet, their untrained efforts were in vain. An axe blow from Allen glanced harmlessly off the troll's back, only drawing its ire.

The monstrous club swung through the air, sending Allen flying. Reacting instantly, Wayne roared a battle cry, drawing attention away from the fallen villager.

"Triss," he barked, his voice cutting through the frenzy, "neutralize the troll and destroy the totem! I'll handle the beasts!"

Without waiting for a reply, Wayne dismounted in a blur of motion. Electric blade sang its deadly song as he dropped from his saddle, electrocuting a snarling wolf with a single, precise strike. A surge of predatory instinct kicked in, pushing thoughts of trophies aside. Every beat of his heart hammered a rhythm of survival.

The blade became a whirlwind of death, carving through the wolf pack with lethal efficiency. Their hides offered no resistance; they were cleaved in two or beheaded with sickening ease. Meanwhile, Triss sprang into action. A torrent of harsh, guttural words erupted from her lips – a sorceress's incantation, raw and powerful.

"Back from the totem!" she yelled, her voice cutting through the chaos. Allen, recognizing her, reacted instantly, barking orders at the confused villagers. They scrambled away, fear etched on their faces.

Triss raised her hands, palms open towards the sky. A blinding flash erupted, followed by a deafening boom. A towering inferno roared to life, engulfing the troll and the grotesque totem in a pyre of cleansing fire. The stench of burning flesh and bone filled the air as the monstrous guardian and its source of power were consumed by the flames.

By the time Wayne finished dispatching the last wolf, the troll and the totem were nothing but smoldering embers, reduced to ash by Triss's fiery magic.

Wayne scanned the surroundings, a grim line etching his face. Satisfied no further threats lurked, he grabbed Allen's arm. "Explain. Why were you and the villagers out here?"

Allen winced, rubbing his injured shoulder. A wave of despair washed over him as he surveyed his wounded comrades. Some lay groaning, mangled by wolf bites or crow attacks. Others, broken by the troll's savage blows, whimpered in pain. Yet, a defiant spirit flickered in their eyes, a refusal to yield despite the horrors they'd endured.

"Lord Wayne," he rasped, "it all happened after you left with Lady Triss. That... Link fellow returned with a monster, kidnapped five children, and vanished into the forest. Panic seized the village, but our people are strong. We formed a rescue party and tracked them here. But near this cursed totem, we were ambushed by these beasts. Too many of them. Thank the gods for your arrival, or our losses would be far worse."

Wayne and Triss exchanged a heavy look. Their mission had taken a dark turn. Not only did they face a powerful Leshen, but now innocent children were its hostages. Their resolve hardened. They couldn't risk the children's lives by being cautious with the Leshen's remaining totems.

With a sigh, Wayne rummaged through his pack, pulling out bandages and sewing needles. He pressed the supplies into Allen's hand. "Focus on healing your wounds. Further pursuit is too dangerous. Let us handle the Leshen. You can help by searching for other totems like this one. Destroy them if you can. That will weaken the creature. We'll head straight for the monster's lair. It won't spare manpower against us now."

Triss offered a silent nod of agreement. Though the incomplete totem destruction posed a risk, rescuing the children outweighed caution. They had a harrowing task ahead.

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