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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 · หนังสือและวรรณกรรม
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271 Chs

Inviting Francesca

Wayne's plan undoubtedly impressed Francesca. 

The elven sorceress, eager to align Wayne with her people's cause, was thrilled to hear his intentions to cooperate with the elves. Her gaze remained fixed on him, her vibrant, inquisitive eyes reflecting her growing enthusiasm. 

As they rode along atop Robin, the Deathclaw, Wayne openly shared more details about his vision for the Chamber of Commerce. 

In his mind, the Chamber of Commerce was structured into several key elements: 

The Factory – The Production Base. A chamber of commerce must have goods to function," Wayne explained. "This will be the foundation." 

Both Wayne and Francesca shared confidence in this aspect. The elven craftsmen, though few in number, were masters of their craft. While not all were grandmasters, many possessed the refined skill of senior artisans. 

Wayne, however, had another advantage—access to unique crafts and products from other worlds. "Exotic items will always have value," Wayne said. "With the right trade network, we can guarantee demand." 

"Second, The Caravan – A Mobile Force and Intelligence Network." Wayne described his ambition to create a large, heavily armed caravan. He understood the dangers merchants faced—bandits, monsters, and the constant threat from opportunistic nobles. "Once civil wars break out," he noted, "trade will become riskier but also more profitable." 

The armed caravan wouldn't just serve as protection. It would be a tool for gathering intelligence, adopting orphans, and recruiting skilled individuals. "We'll raise a force loyal only to us," Wayne said.

"These people, scattered across the continent, may seem inconspicuous at first. But when we need them, they will become a formidable army." 

The caravan would also establish strongholds under the guise of trade outposts. These outposts would act as strategic points across the North, gathering intelligence and monitoring regional developments. "We'll know everything," Wayne concluded, "without ever leaving home." 

Francesca, seated comfortably in Wayne's arms, found herself captivated by the vision. She could see the immense potential in his plan—a future where, by controlling the economy, the elves could regain power and respect. 

The concept of humans, once their oppressors, becoming dependent on them through economic control was intoxicating. Wayne's words had raised her opinion of him to new heights. 

For the long-lived elves, a plan like this was worth pursuing. Whether it took ten, a hundred, or even a thousand years, patience was a virtue they possessed in abundance. If it meant reclaiming their rightful place in the world, they were willing to wait. 

...

"What kind of magic barrier is this? It's incredible!" Francesca exclaimed in wonder. 

After traveling for most of the day, Wayne and Francesca arrived at the edge of Kaer Morhen's mysterious barrier. 

In this remote, uninhabited mountain range, a dense fog stretched across the landscape like a curtain between the heavens and the earth. It was no ordinary mist but a powerful magical barrier, impervious to ordinary sight. 

Francesca, one of the most powerful sorceresses in the world, quickly recognized the barrier's extraordinary nature. Intrigued, she reached out with her chaotic magic, attempting to probe its mysteries. 

She sensed layers upon layers of enchantments, intricate and ancient, unlike anything she had encountered before. With a furrowed brow, she turned to Wayne, her expression puzzled yet curious. 

"This is very peculiar, Wayne," Francesca remarked, her brow furrowed as she scrutinized the magic barrier before them. "Although this circle is constructed with chaos magic, the arrangement of its enchantment is fundamentally different from what we know. It belongs to a completely distinct system." 

She paused, her voice laced with curiosity. "Is this barrier one of the treasures you acquired from another world?"

Wayne smiled at her perceptiveness. "You're not far off. It's an artifact I obtained from another realm. This magic barrier is capable of shielding against any being below the level of a god." 

Francesca's thoughtful expression deepened. "Although I cannot discern all of its intricacies, I can sense that it spans a vast area, and its defenses are formidable. As long as it remains intact, external forces will struggle to penetrate it."

Wayne nodded, appreciating her insight. "The radius of this barrier extends about a hundred kilometers, though it currently only covers half that area due to limited magical power. Within its bounds, those inside are essentially protected from any outside threats." 

"An artifact of divine origin?" Francesca asked, her eyes narrowing with interest. "Is it the work of gods from another world?"

Wayne merely smiled, choosing not to delve further. The secrets of the barrier were deeply tied to the core operations of the Witcher Order, and it was not yet time to divulge them. With a simple wave of his hand, the dense fog parted, revealing a gap large enough for them to pass through. 

He gave Robin, the Deathclaw, a reassuring pat. After running continuously for seven or eight hours, even the mighty beast was exhausted. Lacking the ability to sweat, Robin panted heavily, tongue lolling from his mouth like an overgrown dog. But despite his fatigue, Robin followed Wayne's command without hesitation, walking boldly through the opening in the mist. For the loyal creature, fear was an alien concept—only the master's orders mattered. 

As they crossed into the barrier's interior, the thick fog gave way to a lush forest. The expansive boundary of the mystical lock meant that much of it remained unexplored. Wayne had rarely ventured to the edge of the barrier himself, given the vastness of the territory under its protection. 

He exhaled, the tension of the journey easing as they entered the safety of the barrier's interior. Sliding down from Robin's back, Wayne landed gracefully on the forest floor, carefully cradling Francesca in his arms as they dismounted. 

With a subtle smile, he set the elf sorceress down, ensuring his movements were as courteous as they were deliberate. Her scent—an intoxicating blend of magic and subtle floral notes—lingered in the air, leaving Wayne with the vague suspicion that it might be enchanted. Yet, magic or not, the effect was undeniable, stirring feelings that he suppressed with practiced discipline. 

Francesca's soft chuckle hinted that she had sensed his reaction, though she said nothing. As he performed a small bow, his demeanor shifted to that of a gracious host welcoming an esteemed guest. "Welcome to my domain, my lady," he said, gazing into her vibrant, curious eyes. 

"What awaits you here," Wayne added, his voice filled with quiet confidence, "is unlike anything you've ever seen. I guarantee it will be an experience you'll never forget."