Chapter 228: So You're a Dragon Too
"Lord Dursley, how about... we just go back? He's probably not coming out."
The man with acne on his face shook his head. "He's been in there for almost half an hour already. He must be dead."
The lumberjacks gathered at the edge of the forest, silently staring into the gaps between the trees.
Lord Dursley wiped the sweat from between his sparse eyebrows with his already sweat-soaked handkerchief.
"We should wait a little longer," he said.
"Why wait?" The acne-faced man looked terrified, always anxiously glancing into the forest. "There's a wicked bear in the logging camp, have you forgotten, Lord Dursley? Anyone who goes in there is just walking to their death."
"Have you forgotten how many people died in there? What are we waiting for?"
"We agreed to wait for him, didn't we?" Lord Dursley whispered hesitantly.
"An agreement with a living person is an agreement," another胖胖的 lumberjack said. "But he's already dead, that's as certain as the sun in the sky. He went in to die from the start, just like those hunters before him."
"I don't doubt that for a second, but what I'm worried about is if he didn't die immediately, but escaped, and brought the wicked bear out with him..."
At this, the acne-faced man shivered with fear.
The faces of the others also paled.
The fat lumberjack shivered, as if he were naked on the peak of Mount Blue at the start of the New Year.
"If you ask me, Lord Dursley, we shouldn't have looked for a witcher in the first place. We should have gone straight to the Eternal Fire. The sacred flame can dispel anything, including that wicked bear."
"My dears, is this how you ask for help? You call someone over, then abandon them and run away yourselves?"
The fat lumberjack slowly turned around, looking at the stranger who had suddenly appeared behind them.
The newcomer had thick, curly brown hair, wore a dark brown tunic under a heavy cotton coat, and boots, carrying no visible weapons.
But next to the stranger were two young women.
They moved lightly, full of confidence.
The girls had blue striped tattoos from their outer eye corners to their ear tips, and their strong thigh and gluteal muscles were covered in lynx fur.
Their bare arms emerged above chainmail gloves, and the hilt of a sabre protruded from their similarly chainmail-clad shoulders.
In taverns in some places, there would always be people passionately debating and quoting extensively on whether women were suitable to be soldiers.
But when people actually encountered female warriors, no one in their right mind would dare to provoke them.
The crowd, originally standing behind, automatically dispersed, moving away from the stranger and his two female guards.
The fat lumberjack shivered again.
But this time, it wasn't because of the wicked bear.
"Sir, you don't understand, there's a..."
"A wicked bear, I heard you say."
The stranger nodded. "You also found a witcher, and let him go in alone."
"But you don't know how fierce that wicked bear is. It killed three of our men, and several hunters Lord Dursley later hired from nearby villages also never returned."
"It seems you no longer need to worry about any wicked bear."
The stranger crossed his arms over his chest, gesturing with his eyes for the others to look.
Everyone turned their heads, only to see rustling sounds coming from between the trees in the forest, as if something was being dragged across the ground.
Then, people saw Lynn emerge, dragging the owlbear's head.
They stared, dumbfounded, at the owlbear's head, which the witcher threw onto the ground, larger than a small cat's body.
"This is that wicked bear, but it actually has a more accurate name: it's an owlbear, a creature that came with the Conjunction of Spheres," Lynn said, brushing dirt from his hands. "As we agreed, you owe me my payment, Lord Dursley."
Dursley hastily pulled out a coin pouch.
Lynn opened it and checked; it was all shining Novigrad crowns, with no silver or copper coins mixed in, nor any clipped edges—all perfectly intact.
Novigraders, compared to other parts of the North, were relatively wealthy, so they never even thought of cheating in this regard.
"Glad to be of service. I look forward to our next cooperation."
After speaking with Lord Dursley, Lynn's gaze shifted to the stranger and his guards.
"Greetings, esteemed sir, and ladies. I am Lynn, a witcher of the Wolf School."
"My regards, Sir Lynn. I..." The stranger pointed to the faded crest on his tunic—three black ravens embroidered in a row on a golden field. "I am Borch. Others also call me 'Three Jackdaws.' These are my bodyguards, Tea and Vea. That's what I call them, as their real names are too hard to pronounce."
"Are all three of you from Zerrikania?"
"No, they are Zerrikanians, but I am not." For someone traveling with guards, Borch seemed approachable. "It's been a long time since I've been in the North. I didn't expect to meet a witcher."
I also didn't expect to meet a living golden dragon here, Lynn thought to himself.
Yes, that was right.
This nobleman, who called himself Borch, or Three Jackdaws, was actually not human at all.
But a dragon.
A golden dragon, which the world believed did not exist.
And his true name, of course, was not Borch, but Villentretenmerth.
Though that name, in the common tongue, meant Three Jackdaws.
Zerrikanians worship no gods, or rather, they revere dragons as their deities.
Therefore, Borch was, in Zerrikania, a truly god-like being.
As for the two young women, one should never be deceived by their youth and beauty.
They were even more adept at manipulating men's emotions than men themselves.
Since you're here, that means...
Lynn recalled the plot from the novels and quickly figured out the other party's objective.
"What are you thinking, Sir Lynn?"
"Nothing, just lost in thought. My apologies."
"In that case, if you're not busy, I have a suggestion." Borch rubbed his nose.
"The famous Pearl of the North, Novigrad, isn't far from here. I know a tavern in the city called 'The Spur' that has excellent food. I'm going there now to eat and stay the night. Would I be so fortunate as to invite you along?"
Lynn shrugged.
He had no reason to object.
"A good suggestion. I accept."
Borch beamed, saying cheerfully: "Then let's go. I'm starving."
....
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