Chapter 96: Irony
When the outgoing team returned to the perimeter of the church, Geralt walked from the front of the team to the back.
He pointed at a dark shadow high in the sky and said with a grim smile, "It looks like we're being targeted."
Clown didn't look back, he had already noticed this situation: "This monster is very fast, but not very powerful. It's just a minor threat to us, but it will be difficult for ordinary people."
"Should we set an ambush and kill a few of them?" The demon hunter raised his eyebrows and made a cutting motion with his right hand.
"Break and kill. Who will be the bait? From what we know so far, the monster is interested in fresh meat. But the current situation in the town means that besides the people, there are only a few horses that can be used."
"Monsters can tell the strength of people. People who are capable of protecting themselves cannot induce them to attack. Ordinary people are likely to be killed if used as bait, unless they are prepared to be sacrificed."
The look that Klauen gave the witcher gradually became hostile. It was not because he was morally upright, but because he could not stand being used as a sacrifice, even though that sacrifice was not himself.
"Tsk tsk, look at your eyes." Geralt's mouth cracked and he said teasingly, "You must have thought wrongly. I have a formula that can be used to mix a very strong smell of blood. I once used it to lure and kill a vampire bird."
"Then you can try it. Do you have any plans?" Clown's expression relaxed and he smiled again.
The demon hunter leaned close to him and whispered something, then said, "As long as we understand how they can distinguish the difficulty of their prey, my method will be easy to succeed."
The patrolman on the tower saw the convoy returning from afar and opened the gate.
Nick stood at the door to greet everyone. The men waiting on the side who did not go out had clear division of labor and carried the wood and ore to corresponding places.
The priest glanced at the injured man and whispered, "It doesn't look like it's going well."
"We ran into some trouble. A group of unrecognizable mutant banshees appeared in the woods near the mine. I don't know if they just happened to be passing by or if they intend to take root there for a long time."
"It seems that no one died. Is it a big problem?"
If the bodies were not brought back, they would have become the monsters' midnight snack. Clown sighed helplessly, "Two of them died, captured by the monsters. Let's go inside and talk."
"You guys chat, we have to go back. Today we have to be considered for perfect attendance," Geralt said hello and pulled his students away.
The two entered the cabin, and Crown told the whole story and asked, "Father, can you enchant the arrow with the Scorching Weapon?"
In today's battle, he suffered a loss due to the lack of long-range attack means, otherwise, he would have been confident that he could have left a few more monsters behind.
He now has only four bullets left in his hand, so it is imperative for him to learn archery.
Nick nodded and then shook his head: "Of course it can, but this enchantment has a duration, and ordinary metal arrows can easily be softened by the enchanted elemental power and lose their sharpness."
"Can I learn this enchantment method?"
It is better to learn how to fish yourself than to eat other people's fish. Crown's real goal is to learn another skill.
"Haha, I'm afraid you can't learn it," Nick explained, "This method requires spiritual power, or elemental power, just like a warlock, you need this talent to perform it.
Then we attach spiritual power to weapons through mental mimicry, which is not the same as you infusing the source of life into weapons to form fire elemental attacks. "
"Is that so?" Clown was a little disappointed. "I told Avina that she had a chance to be trained as a priest, but it turns out there is no hope at all."
"You are not wrong. She is not hopeless. The concentration of spiritual energy in the world is constantly increasing. If there is really a talent in her blood, she will awaken sooner or later. The same goes for you."
"Is the chance of awakening high?"
Nick smiled and said, "It's good to keep a normal mind."
Clown bared his teeth. Judging from his tone, most people still had no chance.
After being lost for two or three seconds, he recovered. God had been kind to him. He had traveled through time and space with cheats. He had encountered everything that so many book lovers dreamed of. What else was there to be dissatisfied about?
"Do warriors have the means of spiritual armor?"
Because he progressed too fast, he didn't know much about the methods of the warrior system. The extraordinary basic knowledge was worthy of the name of the basics, and only introduced the first-level professionals.
"Of course there will be. The attack and defense of high-level warriors are also very strong. In our church, the top warriors can compete with priests of the same level."
Nick fell into recollection, and after a while, he continued: "When I was receiving priest training in Rhine City, I had the honor of seeing the sparring between His Excellency Cavendish Sis, the third-level flame fighter, and Cardinal Flanders McLean.
Lord Cavendish was not wearing armor, but cloth. His Life Stream Armor was bombarded many times by Lord Flanders, but it remained as stable as ever. The scene is still fresh in people's memory.
The priest's voice began to become excited: "Before that, it was a consensus among everyone in the Holy Fire Cathedral that the priests could beat the warriors of the same level, but Lord Cavendish changed everyone's views single-handedly.
I still remember what he said at the time, 'There are no rubbish supernatural professions, only rubbish supernatural people. '"
There is no mistake in the poem, post, content, and read the book on 6, 9, and bar!
Clown opened his eyes wide and thought: "There are no rubbish professions, only rubbish players. This was also well known in the past life."
. . . .
As the sun was setting, Hans was carrying a basket of herbs on his back. His body was coated with a layer of orange-red light, and his long shadow followed his footsteps as he returned to the church.
"Hey, old Hans, I thought you wouldn't be coming back," someone on the tower greeted with a smile.
"I go out to gather some herbs and eat a little. This is the only way I can make a living. I am too old to do heavy work."
"Tsk, stop crying poor. I heard that the Knight paid a high price for your herbs. Can you invite us for a drink someday?"
"Sure. I'll treat everyone to a drink when old Jason's inn reopens."
"Haha, stingy old Hans has become generous. Wait, I'll go down and open the door for you right away."
"Click," with the sound of gears turning, the heavy wooden door opened.
Hans joked with a few acquaintances guarding the gate, then said goodbye and left: "I still have to deliver the herbs to the Knight. We will talk again in the evening."
"Go ahead, go ahead. Don't forget to treat everyone to a drink when you become rich."
Hans walked briskly toward the church gate, and stopped when he passed the bell tower and saw the bronze bell hanging under the eaves.
He stared at the bronze bell intently, as if attracted by the flame cloud pattern on it.
After a moment, a flash of sarcasm flashed across his face, and then he regained his usual cheerful demeanor and walked forward toward the churchyard.
(End of this chapter)