The Divine Hunter

Chapter 27 The Last Witcher

When Roy woke up from the operating table, yesterday's tiredness and bruises on his skin were all gone, and his body was refreshed and full of energy.

"Child, you have to thank your teacher." Nannick smiled and handed over a bowl of porridge-like food with a strong fishy smell, sticky, and dark.

"Drink this bowl of medicinal soup first, not a drop is allowed!"

The young man took the medicine bowl and sighed without saying a word. The mountain of corpses and the sea of ​​blood crawled out. The unbearable stench of the medicine soup couldn't even make him frown.

"I have to thank Leto? What did that guy do while I was asleep?"

"Don't look at his appearance, but he is thoughtful and detailed. After you fall asleep, he massages you for more than two hours. Otherwise, no matter how energetic you are, you will not be able to eliminate muscle fatigue in just one night."

"This guy……"

Roy pressed his wrist. He remembered that there was a thick circle of bruises there yesterday, but now he can only see a very faint, almost dissipated trace, and even the blisters and redness on the palm of his hand have been greatly relieved.

He has experienced the traditional massage technique of the Snake School, and he still uses it very well today.

...

Next is the same process, the sorceress's daily physical examination, recording body data, and infusion of hormones.

Then he beat the chicken-blooded boy into the training ground, and the witcher stood there with a cold expression and raised his sword.

"Another busy and fulfilling day..."

However, today's training environment is slightly different. The girls in the temple did not pay attention to the abnormal situation here two days ago.

But today, several teenage priests and apprentices in gray dresses and green faces quietly came to the vicinity and looked at the red-faced boy curiously.

Under the sun, the bald man stretched out his muscular and knotted arms and pointed from time to time, while the young man was like a puppet under his hand, mechanically repeating the movement of swinging his sword, with only two movements, first slashing, then stabbing... …boring and monotonous.

"Boring! It's just two tricks to turn upside down, it's better to watch acrobatics!" A girl with pigtails and baby fat on her face watched for a long time, and her mouth was shriveled, "Who are they and what qualifications do they have in the temple? Playing with swords?"

"I guess it's the knight of White Rose..." A small girl next to her with astonishingly bright eyes said earnestly, "On the temple side, Mammy Nannike only allows knights to draw their weapons!"

"Second! Last month, on the 27th, didn't a team of white rose knights come to the temple?" The girl with a ponytail behind her head and a pointy chin recalled with admiration, "They were also practicing martial arts in the yard... ...in order to frighten the wicked and protect the sisters of the temple!"

"The knights of the White Rose will not protect the temple...because Aunt Nannike would rather spend money on helping the poor than hire these vampires!" A tall and slender girl was holding a pair of porcelain dolls. The taciturn child stood up and retorted, "Last time the knight came to the temple only to escort Her Majesty the Queen of Elland."

The tall and slender girl looked determined,

"As for the two of them, they don't wear the exquisite plate armor of knights, and they don't see the coat of arms of the white rose on their chests... Pay attention to their eyes, that bald head must be a witcher, and the young one may be an apprentice!"

"Oh—the witcher...that's not as decent and noble as the Knights of the White Rose...but they're a bunch of poor people. No wonder Mammy is willing to take them in."

A group of girls chattered about how witchers use the eyes of beasts to fight, and before they knew it, another topic came up.

"Queen Emilia will come every month, donate a sum of money, buy elixir from Aunt Nannicke. There is no more devout believer than her, she definitely deserves a lovely child... But Merry Why didn't Goddess Teri let the Queen and the Prince do as they wish?"

"Shut up, Lily! Your Majesty is also something you can talk about?!" Aerola II looked around the little girls fiercely,

"Stop talking behind your back like a long-tongued woman, and go back to class! You will be punished for copying your homework a hundred times for being one minute late!"

...

"Little devil, how dare you be distracted in front of me!"

The witcher slashed Roy's right cheek with a slap, and a bloodstain instantly swelled on the smooth skin.

"H-Lesso, are you jealous that I have hair... why are you always aiming at my face?!"

The boy grinned in pain, and his thoughts drifted back from the girls' conversation.

...

On the other side, the priest of Meritelli Temple, Nannick, the sorceress Coral, and Aerola also came to the temple courtyard at some point, paying attention to the two from a distance.

"Coral, what do you think of that child?"

Nannick stroked her chest worriedly. In fact, she always felt that it was not a good idea for the temple to accept the grass trial. After all, not all witchers were as trustworthy as Geralt.

Mutations are full of uncertainty, and the testers will not only change their bodies, but also their circumstances! Who knows if this gentle-looking child will become a killing machine in the future?

"Ouch... my old mother Nannick! Didn't I promise many times? With Rita Ned, the thirteenth leader of the Warlock Brotherhood, controlling the whole process, absolutely no problem!"

"Coral! Don't call me old mother, I shudder at the thought of this possibility! You are no younger than me!"

"Old mammy, let's not expose each other's faults... Speaking of this little guy," the sorceress couldn't help but laugh, "even though I've only been in contact with him for less than a day, I found him to be very 'interesting' and his tone of voice, The way of thinking is unusual. According to my many years of experience, he is definitely not a child from the countryside of Aden, but I think..."

"He doesn't look like a northerner?" Elora's chin lightly clicked, and she couldn't agree more. "It doesn't even look like a southerner."

How on earth did he know about his entanglement with Geralt?

...

Several people noticed the abnormality of the boy.

A gleam of light flashed in the sorceress' blue eyes, and she slowly closed her slender fingers in mid-air, trying to hold something, "Anyway, the trial has just begun, this little guy can't escape my palm, I will sooner or later. Research everything."

Then she turned to the old priest, "You, don't have any psychological burden. Just study the witcher's potion formula, maybe you can get inspiration to make some good remedies. Further praise the goddess Meritelli. In the name of mercy."

"Besides, we have done a good deed..."

Nannick wondered, "How do you say it?"

"According to the incomplete statistics of the Brotherhood of Warlocks, the whereabouts of witchers have become more and more mysterious in the past two decades, and there may even be no new witchers born. I mean all schools."

Coral raised her pretty face slightly, with a hint of sadness in her tone, "If this goes on like this, they will completely withdraw from the stage of history. And if there is only a special group of warlocks in this world, it would be too boring, and the people still need their help. ."

"With my help... maybe this little fellow will be the last witcher."

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