Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

"It's not over! Cronin, just stand there and listen to me. You're painting my wife without my permission!"

The man in the black silk shirt yelled angrily at the young man across from him, then took out a dagger and rushed towards the young man, who stood there dumbfounded with a paintbrush in his hand. , Geralt guessed he was a young painter or an apprentice or something. These people can be seen in various squares in Novigrad, and they often take a drawing board and a sketch pen for a day.

From his personal point of view, the witcher thinks they are of no use to society at all—and he still has some shadows about it because of the last painting.

It is already the end of December in 1233, and it will be 1234 soon. Frankly, Geralt is having a good time in Novigrad these days. He also misses Vesemir and Eskel and that pesky Lambert sometimes. The witcher didn't know how they were doing, but he wished them all the best. The members of the Wolf School are too few to withstand any losses.

However, in his heart, there is a rational part that always reminds him: no witcher can live in his old age.

Bianjian was born, Bianjian died.

They were created hundreds of years ago by Arzu and his teacher, Cosimo Malaspina, to kill monsters. At that time, due to the confluence of the celestial spheres, the world was in ruins, new monsters appeared every day, people died like wheat, and at that time, even if you just went out for a walk, you might be thrown from the sky. The griffins are caught and eaten. So the witcher came into being - superhuman physical quality and several times the reaction speed of ordinary people, night vision, immune diseases. Plus all witchers are trained step-by-step as children, and each of them is a well-trained monster slayer.

Supplemented with silver swords, seals and alchemy bombs. They can fight monsters without fail, and they will be sung by bards as protectors and heroes of mankind - so to speak, but whether the witcher order in history is really what Arzu imagined With chivalry and chivalrous heart, no one knows. Time has taken away everything, leaving behind several schools of thought.

Up to now, because of long-standing prejudice, provocative behavior and false rumors, the profession of witcher is feared by the world, and later hated by people. The resulting extreme persecution and slaughter nearly wiped out the witchers. Only a handful of witchers have survived, and still hold on to this special job, coming and going around the world, killing monsters for meager bounties.

Sometimes, Geralt would ask himself.

Why not accept the assassination commission like the cat school? You must know that killing people is not only easier than killing monsters, but the amount of money will be several times or even ten times, and you will be much better off than you are now. At least you don't have to quarrel with the tax officer and the village chief for a long time like a beggar for a few children, and you don't need to risk your life to kill monsters with a sword in the cold or hot weather, and you won't be scolded by your nose. It's a mutant freak.

But he just couldn't.

as it is now.

Geralt stretched out his hand at lightning speed, precisely stopped the right hand of the man in the black silk shirt, knocked the dagger in his hand to the ground, and then kicked him to the ground.

"Are you OK?"

His low voice sounded.

The young man didn't seem to realize what was going on. He stared blankly at the witcher. After a while, he came back to his senses and laughed happily: "Ah! Hello! Sir! Please take a seat. Down!"

He pointed to the chair opposite him.

Geralt raised his eyebrows and repeated, "Are you all right?"

The young man looked a little nonchalant at this point: "Yes, yes, sir, of course I'm fine! Please sit down, please? I'm going to paint you a picture! God, what you did just now was so charming. , you are like a work of art!"

"..."

Artwork.

The witcher laughed at himself in his heart, how could you still get such an honor.

He looked back at the man who was moaning on the ground, raised his fist threateningly at him, and this small gesture immediately made him run away.

The witcher wanted to leave, but when the young man called Cronin saw that he was about to leave, he grabbed him in a hurry, and pressed him on the chair both softly and hard. Geralt was very uncomfortable with this situation. He scratched his face in embarrassment and said, "Cough, listen, if you really want to paint, why don't you go to a quieter place? I mean... "

He looked around, people in the square were coming and going, many of them looked at him with strange eyes.

To his surprise, Cronin's face became very serious at this time, and his voice became louder: "No! Sir! You don't understand, this is what I want. Misunderstood by the world and even Disdainful heroes will also stand up to protect the weak, I finally found the subject I have always wanted to paint, sir! You are my savior!"

"..." Geralt fell silent again, UU reading www. uukanshu.com He found that he really couldn't handle this kind of person, so he had to sit there like he was on pins and needles, hoping that he would finish things quickly.

Unexpectedly, Cronin painted longer and longer. He painted from morning to noon. When the witcher's stomach began to remind him, Cronin finally finished painting.

He excitedly showed Geralt the painting, he turned the drawing board around, Geralt was shocked by the painting in front of him.

The person in the painting is him, there is no doubt about that, but it doesn't look like him.

In the painting, he was covered in wounds, dripping with blood, holding a sharp sword, and the other sword fell to the ground. A huge dark shadow is approaching him from the jungle, but the witcher has no intention of retreating. He still holds the sword tightly and protects the innocent woman behind him well.

Not to mention whether Geralt would do such a thing, the amount of blood made the witcher very convinced that this young painter lacked common sense. If he really had so much blood, then he was a mutant of the grass trial. Must be some kind of powerful vampire.

"How is it, sir?"

"...You draw very well."

"Okay? No, no, it's not good! Sir, it's just a rough draft, and I'm going to take it back and paint it again, with the best paint, and trust me, sir, you'll soon be able to Art buyers heard your name, oh, I haven't asked your name, sir, what is your name?"

Geralt was groaning in his heart, even an artistic idiot like him could see that this young man had extraordinary painting skills, so a painting about a witcher would sooner or later let Vesemir and the others know, and then it would be inevitable for a while. mocked.

However, after a while of silence, he still spoke.

"Geralt of Rivia."