Guilliman was considered a relatively quick-witted Witcher.
The moment he saw those three dwarf ballistas, he immediately thought of his upcoming Wyvern contract.
He truly had no fear of dealing with Wyverns on the ground and dared to fight them at close range; they were nothing more than oversized lizards.
But even having learned the five Signs, a Witcher still lacked long-range attack methods. He couldn't expect a regular crossbow to pierce the scales of those giant lizards, and he didn't have that much precision.
If these Wyverns got smart and only attacked him from the air, it would be quite troublesome to think about.
Guilliman took out his treasured spirits and several plates of steaming hot dishes stored in his storage space.
He set the food and drink before them, put his arm around the shoulder of the dwarf, Iron Axe Black, and chatted with this middle-aged dwarf foreman to build rapport and strengthen their relationship.
The alcohol was strong dwarf spirits, and the food consisted of signature dishes from a famous restaurant in Vizima.
To these loggers who had been sleeping in the wild for a long time, it was simply a delicacy that was hard to refuse.
After consuming the good food and drink, Iron Axe Black became talkative, stroking his beard as he told his story.
Speaking of which, he was considered a veteran dwarf resident in the Kingdom of Temeria, having lived in the country for over fifty years and being a witness to Foltest's ascension to the throne.
Whether it was Old Vizima or New Vizima, none of it could have been built without the hard work of him and his crew of dwarf craftsmen.
During wartime, the dwarf craftsmen would don weapons and equipment, transforming into siege masters to build various siege engines for Temeria's army and fight alongside them.
Back in the Nilfgaardian War, excellent engineering equipment had brought many advantages to the Northern Kingdoms.
These three dwarf ballistas were Iron Axe Black's own masterpieces, said to have participated in several battles.
He was a professional craftsman in engineering equipment and an expert in house construction.
For dwarves with lifespans of over four hundred years, as long as they weren't lazy, most would possess a specialized skill and become professional craftsmen in some industry.
Listening to the middle-aged dwarf's boasting, the Witcher was very supportive, making the dwarf's face turn red with excitement.
This was perhaps the rich experience brought to him by the drinking culture of his past life.
Once they were full and satisfied, he no longer hid his purpose and straightforwardly made his request.
Guilliman cheerfully patted Iron Axe Black's shoulder and said with a smile:
"Black, you're truly a good dwarf craftsman and a good friend."
"Actually, I'm about to hunt a pack of Wyverns, and I'm currently lacking some ranged weapons."
"I think those three ballistas in your camp are quite good. How about you name a price and sell them to me?"
Hearing the Witcher's trade request, the experienced middle-aged dwarf wasn't too surprised; it seemed he had already guessed the other had another motive.
Unfortunately, Iron Axe Black shook his head with a look of regret and said in a somewhat troubled voice:
"Guilliman, to be honest, you're my friend, and I'm certainly willing to help you if you're in trouble."
"But these things are controlled items, all registered at the City Hall, and officials come to check them every once in a while."
"If I sell them to you, I'm afraid I'll be thrown in jail for a few months."
"However, if you really need ranged weapons, I can sell you some crossbows."
"Although these are also registered, I have some spares I can use to bluff my way through."
"As for those three big guys, there's no way."
"Besides, each of these ballistas weighs over two hundred pounds. Even if I sold them to you, you wouldn't be able to carry them away."
"Ah! Is that so?"
Guilliman sighed with some regret. He already had quite a few crossbows; the batch he got from robbing the Salamandra gang included many.
But dwarf ballistas were truly rare items; ordinary people wouldn't even see them. They were all hidden in armories as military heavy equipment and strictly controlled.
Just as he was feeling frustrated and considering how to get those three good things, he suddenly noticed some Gwent cards placed in the camp tent.
Clearly, when these loggers were resting, Gwent was their way of leisure and passing the time.
Seeing this, he immediately remembered Zoltan saying that Gwent was quite popular among dwarves. Many dwarves loved the game so much they'd even lose their underpants and still refuse to change their ways.
Looking at the middle-aged dwarf before him, Guilliman pulled out his own Gwent cards, took out two bottles of dwarf spirits, and said tentatively:
"It's still early, Black."
"How about a round of Gwent first?"
...At dusk.
Before it got completely dark, Guilliman returned to Murky Waters, to the house where he lived with Shani.
The medical student girl had been studying quite hard these past few days. Because of the special Celandine, she seemed to have made many new discoveries and was quite excited.
However, researching a new type of potion wasn't something that could be completed in the short term. Even though Shani had been working quite hard, progress on the new potion was still quite slow.
When Guilliman pushed open the door, he happened to see Shani lying on the table with a tired face, eyes slightly closed, breathing evenly, seemingly asleep.
Seeing this, the Witcher consciously lightened his steps and walked to the girl's side. Instead of disturbing her sleep, he reached out to pick her up and carefully placed her on the bed.
Watching Shani's short red hair sway slightly, revealing her charming and lovely face.
His gaze unconsciously fell on her high, delicate nose and pale red, tender lips, and his heart stirred.
Just as the Witcher was about to lean down and taste the delicacy before him...
Suddenly, his ears twitched.
He heard a slight movement outside the house, as if some small mice were tiptoeing closer, afraid of being discovered.
Guilliman sensed the aura of danger and instantly entered a combat state.
He quickly entered a semi-meditative state, and a transparent soul emerged from his body, then passed directly through the wall to the outside of the house.
Under the observation of the soul clone, there were about a dozen figures dressed in night-suits, carrying assassination weapons like crossbows and short swords or daggers, stealthily surrounding his room.
Under the cover of night, this group of assassins was clearly much more professional than ordinary thugs.
Judging by the cold, murderous atmosphere on the scene, they probably didn't intend to negotiate with him but were prepared to kill him directly.
And what concerned Guilliman even more...
Was that behind this group of assassins, there were two figures wearing long robes, their bodies covered by cloaks, holding staves.
Looking at their attire, they were most likely two low-level Sorcerers.
This was a bit tricky.
Spellcasters plus a group of assassins—Guilliman had already figured out who wanted to deal with him.
Damn it, those bastards from the Salamandra gang.
He hadn't even gone to find trouble with them yet, and they actually came here to seek death on their own.
They're simply asking for death.