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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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256 Chs

Lake Town

It is well known that the Woodland Elves of Mirkwood and the Dwarves of the Lonely Mountain are often at odds.

The Woodland Kingdom considers the Dwarves of the Lonely Mountain to be thieves and liars, largely because they refused to return the necklace that once belonged to the Woodland Elf King's deceased wife, despite an agreement to do so. Instead, the dwarves raised the price, violating the contract. 

The Dwarves, on the other hand, harbor resentment toward the Woodland Elves because they did not come to their aid when Smaug attacked the Lonely Mountain.

When the two races encountered each other, tensions rose immediately.

However, unlike the original tale, this expedition was well-supported by Mr. Wayne, who served as the team's logistics expert. Every dwarf was equipped with a mount, high-quality armor, and various weapons, unlike the unarmed state they were in during the original events.

Although the number of Woodland Elves outnumbered the expedition team, the thunderous roar of the Deathclaw and the imposing presence of the eight-meter-tall beast made the elves hesitate. It was clear this was not a foe to trifle with, creating a palpable tension between the two sides as they held their weapons, eyeing each other warily.

The leader of the elven party was none other than Legolas, the Prince of the Woodland Kingdom, known as Greenleaf. He was a brave and righteous figure who despised evil. Even when faced with the imposing Deathclaw, he showed no fear. After a careful observation, Legolas did not reprimand Wayne for his earlier actions but instead regarded him with cautious curiosity. After a moment, he addressed the group in a serious tone:

"Who are you? This is the territory of the Woodland Kingdom. Outsiders are not permitted to act at will here."

As he spoke, his eyes fell upon Thorin and the dwarves, his tone thick with suspicion.

"I know you, Thorin Oakenshield, and your kin. You left the Lonely Mountain long ago. Why have you returned now?"

Though Legolas's tone was not overtly hostile, the natural arrogance of the elves irritated the dwarves.

But this time, Thorin restrained his temper, and before the situation could escalate, the gray-robed wizard Gandalf stepped forward. Addressing the elf prince, he said:

"Prince Legolas, I am Gandalf the Gray Wizard."

"I am an old friend of your father, King Thranduil."

"Please, do not misunderstand us. Our purpose is simply to journey to the Lonely Mountain. We mean no harm to the Woodland Kingdom or its people."

Seeing Gandalf take the lead, Legolas's expression softened slightly. As an exceptional prince, he was well-read and knew that throughout history, wizards had played a crucial role in battling the forces of darkness. This earned Gandalf a certain degree of respect from him.

After a moment of thought, Legolas raised his hand, signaling his guards to lower their weapons.

With a slight bow to Gandalf, Legolas said politely:

"Welcome, Gandalf, Gray Wizard."

"If these are your companions, then I invite you all to attend our banquet."

"Today, we hold a grand feast at the palace. I believe my father will welcome you as well."

Despite the polite invitation, the dwarves were already irked by the haughty demeanor of the elf prince. Before Thorin could respond, a few dwarves angrily shouted:

"We won't attend an elven banquet!"

"Who knows what schemes they have planned. Elves are not to be trusted!"

"Yes, they refused to help us during Smaug's attack, leaving us to suffer heavy losses!"

Although the dwarves' voices weren't loud, the elves, with their keen hearing, caught every word.

The dwarves of Middle-earth are often stubborn, paranoid, and miserly, traits that only exacerbate the tensions between the two races. This long-standing feud has led to countless conflicts over the years.

As the dwarves' complaints grew louder, the faces of the elves darkened. Just as tensions were about to boil over, Gandalf coughed loudly, silencing the bickering.

At that moment, a slender female elf dressed in a green robe, carrying a bow and arrows on her back, leaped gracefully from the trees. She landed beside Prince Legolas and whispered something quietly into his ear.

"Legolas, we need to return to the palace quickly," the female elf said urgently. "The beacon fire in the west has been lit. Judging by the signal, there seems to be trouble in Lake-town."

"King Thranduil will undoubtedly summon us," she added.

Upon hearing this, Legolas's expression changed. He bowed slightly to Gandalf, saluting, and said in a regretful tone:

"I'm sorry, Gray Wizard. There is a military emergency in the Woodland Kingdom. Please forgive me for not being able to accompany you to the palace."

With that, without waiting for the expedition team's response, Legolas left one of his guards to guide them. After a quick apology, he leaped onto a branch, leading his remaining guards swiftly away.

This left only the elf guard and the members of the expedition team staring at one another.

As a Witcher, Wayne's enhanced hearing had already picked up on the conversation between the female elf and Legolas. 

He was slightly surprised. From the female elf's words, it seemed that there was some danger in Lake-town, prompting the lighting of the beacon fire. 

However, according to his memory, Lake-town should not have faced any real danger until Smaug's attack and the later invasion of the orc army. Although poor, it had remained relatively undisturbed by war.

Thinking this over, Wayne turned to Gandalf and Thorin and said:

"You go ahead to the Woodland Elf palace. Smaug is an enemy to all northern forces. Perhaps you can negotiate some cooperation with the Woodland Elves."

"However, I'll head over to investigate the beacon fire. Once I've handled it, I'll catch up with you."

Thorin hesitated, casting a glance at the elf guard beside them, but ultimately held his tongue. 

Gandalf, while unsure of Wayne's exact intentions, gave him a nod and cautioned him to be careful.

Without any further explanation, Wayne mounted his magic flying carpet and ascended into the sky, whistling for Robin below. The great beast immediately sprang into action, running with impressive speed.

Wayne soared through the sky while Robin raced below, their combined speed far surpassing that of the Woodland Elves.

After about half an hour of flying toward Lake-town, Wayne finally got a clear view of the situation from his high vantage point.

He could see a small wooden town by the lake, engulfed in flames in many places.

With his Witcher-enhanced eyesight, Wayne saw what appeared to be a large-scale raid in progress. A group of figures clashed, while others frantically tried to escape. Some fled in small boats across the lake.

From a distance, it was clear that much of the town had already fallen, and the fires raged unchecked. Though too far to make out fine details, it was obvious that the attackers were orcs, judging by their size, equipment, and combat style.

This discovery puzzled Wayne. Why were the orcs attacking Lake-town now, before the events of the Battle of the Five Armies? 

He pondered the question for a while, but the only explanation he could think of was the butterfly effect caused by his earlier actions—destroying the orc town in the Misty Mountains and killing Azog. 

This might have triggered unforeseen consequences.

However, time was running short. Though the magic flying carpet was much faster than a horse and could avoid obstacles, hours still passed before Wayne reached Lake-town.

By the time he arrived, he could only watch helplessly as the orcs retreated from the town, laden with loot and herding groups of prisoners.

It seemed that the orcs' purpose was not to completely destroy the residents of Lake-town, but rather to rob the town's supplies and capture its population.

After defeating the few guards and soldiers in Lake-town, the orc army did not spend much time on a massacre. Instead, they focused on gathering supplies and taking prisoners. 

A large amount of food, goods, and many townspeople were taken away by the raiders. Excluding the dead guards and soldiers, fewer than a quarter of the original population remained, many of them seriously injured and lying helplessly in the streets or within burning buildings, waiting to die.

The orcs were disturbingly efficient in their looting. The main structures of the town, mostly made of wood, had been set ablaze in just a few hours. The entire town was now engulfed in flames and on the brink of complete destruction.

After landing in Lake-town on his magic flying carpet, Wayne quickly decided against chasing the retreating orcs. The orcs could be dealt with later, but the refugees in town would likely not survive if he didn't act immediately.

Looking around, Wayne realized that many of the townsfolk were too gravely injured to help themselves, and his strength alone was limited. 

He reached into his space bracelet and pulled out five white scrolls—scrolls he had prepared long ago to summon skeleton warriors. Holding the scrolls, he infused them with magical energy and tossed them into the air. With several soft pops, five skeleton warriors, armed with shields and swords, materialized.

Wayne glanced at the warriors and commanded, "Drop your weapons and start moving the wounded to the docks."

The blue soul-fire glowing in the eye sockets of the skeletons flickered as they immediately obeyed, dropping their shields and swords before marching into the burning town in different directions.

Wayne sighed. He wasn't fond of using skeleton warriors to assist in situations like this—they were unsettling to most people. However, saving lives was the priority.

With that, Wayne didn't stay idle at the docks. He joined the rescue effort, rushing into the burning town himself.

His first find was a middle-aged man, bleeding profusely from a knife wound to his abdomen. The man, dressed in a simple linen vest, was barely conscious, his hands desperately clutching his wound in an attempt to slow the bleeding.

Wayne approached and slapped the man lightly on the face to keep him conscious. He pried open the man's jaw and poured some potion from his magical wine flask, containing an intermediate healing elixir. Then, he pulled out a needle and thread from his pocket and quickly stitched the wound.

After three minutes of treatment, Wayne handed the man a roll of bandages and said, "Wrap yourself up and head to the open area at the docks to wait for help. If you can manage, try to find others who need help and bring them to the dock."

Moving on, Wayne came across a soldier who had been stabbed in the chest, his left foot severed. Fortunately, his armor had protected him from a fatal blow. The soldier was pale from blood loss, dragging himself through the burning streets on his hands and knees, desperately trying to escape the flames.

Without a word, Wayne forced the soldier to drink some healing potion and disinfected his leg wound with strong liquor. The soldier screamed in pain, but Wayne had no time for delicacy. He restrained the man's flailing limbs and quickly bandaged his stump before carrying the dazed soldier back to the docks.

By the time he returned, the skeleton warriors had already brought back five injured individuals. Unfortunately, two of the five were beyond saving, fatally injured. The other three were visibly terrified, their fear only lessened slightly upon seeing Wayne after being handled by the unnerving skeletons.

Wayne took one look at the dying individuals and moved on to treat the remaining three. 

His medical skills were rudimentary at best—some basic experience in stitching and bandaging wounds, knowledge he had picked up at Kaer Morhen. Though it had been years since he had been seriously injured himself, the theoretical knowledge was enough to help others.

Fortunately, the intermediate healing potions were potent. Given the vitality of ordinary humans in Middle-earth, even severe wounds began to heal with just a few sips of the elixir. As long as the wounds were disinfected, stitched, and bandaged, most people could be saved from bleeding out.

As Wayne continued his efforts, some of the previously treated wounded regained enough strength to help him, creating a growing group of survivors who began assisting in rescuing others.

A few hours later, over a hundred wounded townspeople had survived, thanks to Wayne's healing potions.

These cold, and panic-stricken survivors—many of whom seemed utterly lost—began to gather around Wayne, finding comfort in his presence, or crying out in fear and anguish. As night fell, the entire town was reduced to smoldering ruins. The lingering fire cast an eerie glow on the faces of those who had survived the terror.

Wayne and his summoned skeleton warriors had managed to pull out all the wounded who could be treated, and by then, the number of survivors around him had swelled to nearly three hundred. With no food or shelter left, and having endured the horrors of the day, the survivors huddled together. Many succumbed to sleep out of sheer exhaustion and sorrow.

Fortunately, as the owner of a space bracelet, Wayne had ample supplies of food. Though it wouldn't be enough to sustain hundreds of people indefinitely, it could last for a few days. He distributed his rations among the refugees, who, through their tears and exhaustion, expressed profuse gratitude.

As Wayne sighed in fatigue, a mix of emotions stirred within him. He felt sympathy for the suffering people around him, but also a deepening disgust for the orcs. This was his first real, close encounter with the human cost of war. Throughout the afternoon, despite saving many with his potions, there were still thirty or forty souls whose injuries had been too severe. They succumbed to their wounds, despite his best efforts.

When he killed orcs, Wayne had never felt pity or guilt. To him, they were just monsters or beasts that needed to be eradicated. But here, as he gazed upon the broken lives of human civilians, he was reminded that he shared their humanity. Their suffering became his sorrow, and for the first time, he truly understood the weight of the wars that ravaged Middle-earth.

...

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