Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

"You really let him die seven times?"

"If it's a fake replacement."

Geralt stared in disbelief at the man who was standing there, beginning to be in a daze. He looked as if he had lost his soul, his expression was dumb, and he could no longer see any emotion in his eyes, only the purest silence remained.

He stood there like a puppet.

After two minutes, he began to stop breathing. No, not stop, the witcher thought to himself.

is forgetting to breathe.

He reached out and nudged the man gently, and he fell to the ground with a thud. His head fell on the steps and smashed, but what came out was not blood, but some kind of black sand. At this time, Geralt really believed that the mage was indeed capable of making a person die seven times.

"How did you do it?" he asked, drawing the steel sword behind his back. Geralt's hearing made him hear people rising in the houses around him.

Get off the bed, put on your shoes, open the door, and pick up your weapon. A series of sounds were all so easy for him to detect.

"Deception." He Shenyan said. "I gave his brain the wrong instructions, and in what he saw, he was already—oh, Geralt, wait a minute."

The mage turned around, and a woman in a shabby long dress stood not far away, looking at all this with horror on her face. Her shoulders trembled, and big tears ran down her cheeks. Seeing He Shenyan turn her head, she raised her hand and covered her mouth instantly.

Despite this, there was still a little scream that overflowed between his fingers. The muffled voice was so conspicuous in the quiet night of the village.

Geralt held the steel sword calmly, he didn't know what He Shenyan wanted to do, and he didn't care. The sight of the room and what the man had said before had already made him furious. The witchers obviously didn't expect their luck to be so good.

Or, so bad.

I was able to meet one of them on the way to travel.

The dead man had a picture of the Swordsmen on his chest. Geralt thought they had all died in Lower Soden, but now it seems that it is not so simple.

Like a ghost. When you see a ghost in the sun, there may be a thousand hidden in the dark.

"Hello, ma'am."

He Shenyan stepped forward, and Geralt could just see his profile. Geralt noticed that he wasn't smiling.

He came to the woman little by little, his pace unhurried. Geralt was familiar with the gait, and he knew that the mage was putting pressure on the woman.

Is it really necessary to do this? Dealing with a woman in the countryside... In the past, he had only seen this kind of skill on the interrogators who were interrogating felons. They will disintegrate the prisoner's will and resistance in every way, and basically let them reveal everything.

"Do you know the fallen gentleman?"

He Shenyan asked politely, and at the same time gently raised his hand and put it on the woman's shoulder, as if trying to comfort her. The woman was still sobbing in fear, the crushing voice that was suppressed to the point of being out of her throat, and her eyes went wide.

By moonlight, Geralt saw everything. The woman's sobbing, fear—and the hands she gradually lowered from her lips, and a cold light on her waist.

With a dull sound, Geralt saw the woman crash into the mage's arms. He looked down, noticing that blood was dripping on the ground.

Then, He Shenyan raised his hands.

Gently as if soothing a lover, he put his hands on the back of the woman's head while exerting pressure. Their distance is getting closer. The clouds in the night sky were gradually receding, and the moon appeared again. The moonlight shines on them, and most people will feel ambiguous just by looking at the picture.

But in reality, it was a brutal murder — an attempted one.

There is a blood hole in the woman's chest, which is the handle of a dagger. The blade was already curled and shattered. It was pulled out by the woman in the first few seconds, held it, and stabbed the Mage's chest quickly with an absolutely standard attitude. But it shattered a thousandth of a second after the blade hit his clothes.

Woman is convulsing.

Her vision fell into darkness, and just before she died, she heard a voice whispering softly in her ear, "I read your memory, ma'am."

Her eyes widened wildly.

He Shenyan let go of his hands and watched indifferently as she fell to the ground, no longer alive. Geralt walked to his side, looked at the dagger that had been stabbed into her chest in the wrong direction, and shook his head: "Do you really need to make murder so poetic?"

"Sword Comes"

"Poetic? I'm surprised you said that word, Geralt. You might make a good bard."

"Like Dandelion? Forgive me."

The witcher smiled, and the steel sword lifted slightly, deflecting the arrows that had been shot at him precisely. The yellow vertical boy shone terrifyingly in the night, his white hair fluttered and his movements were brisk, and Geralt left the place in just a split second.

The blade was raised, and a man with a pitchfork he had seen during the day stood opposite him. But now, what he is holding in his hand is a sharp military long sword. The guy was **** and had the same tattoo of sharp swords on his chest.

Then, the blade fell.

A head flew across the sky, blood splashed, and before it landed, it was evaporated by the violent flames that suddenly rose. Geralt turned slightly to the side, dodging again the two arrows shot at him. In between the battles, he glanced back and, unsurprisingly, found the mage smiling at him.

He also noticed that the mage was clenching his fists.

"boom--!"

The arrow missed and fell into the dirt. The flames rose, encasing the witcher's blade, and completely illuminating the night sky. Screams resounded through the night sky. The witcher raised his flaming blade high and slammed into the crowd that was attacking him.

Up and down ~www.readwn.com~ down, turned around and stabbed, dodged, and crossed—blood and stumps splashed everywhere, their screams resounded through the sky, and the flames burned more and more vigorously.

One of the guys who lost his arm fell at the witcher's feet, holding his arm and wailing. Geralt walked past him, intending to take care of the other three who were still fighting. But the guy spoke resentfully.

"You mutant bastard, aren't you a witcher? There's a gliding lizard nearby, and you're not going to deal with it, but you're going to slaughter us?!"

Geralt glanced down at him.

"Do you really think you are a human being?"

Geralt shook his head and slashed with the blade. Walking past his headless corpse, he threw a sentence on the ground and landed on the ground together with the man's head.

"You are not even as good as beasts."

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