Vesemir looked at the somewhat unfamiliar Kaer Morhen with surprise.

He touched the smooth wall, looked at the lights high above, and the occasional rustling sounds coming from the courtyard - the seeds Harry had sown were growing rapidly, devouring the weeds.

This was nothing like the Kaer Morhen of his youth.

But that's good.

A home should be like this, clean, tidy and bright.

“It’s just a little troublesome to maintain.” Vesemir muttered, his eyes full of emotion.

Harry shook his head and waved his wand again without saying anything.

A row of statues appeared in the corner of the wall, holding various cleaning tools.

"Don't worry." He finally spoke, "You don't have to do it yourself. These statues will clean the castle every night."

"Magic can be used like this?" Vesemir was surprised.

Harry put his wand away. "In fact, there are as many living spells as there are fighting spells."

"At Hogwarts, these kinds of life spells account for even more."

Gardening, kitchen, cleaning...

Seventy percent of the spells that the little wizards at Hogwarts learn in school are closely related to life.

There are very few spells for combat.

Even Durmstrang, which is famous for teaching the dark arts, is actually like this.

This was hard for Vesemir to imagine.

Is there really such a peace-loving world?

Tonight, several witchers were very restrained and did not get drunk like last night. Geralt finally changed out of the bunny girl costume that he had to wear all day.

Get up the next day.

The entire yard was cleaned up, with only a small tumbleweed-like plant huddled in the corner, which Harry ignored.

But they planted devil's snares in the corners where the walls were almost easily conquered.

A demon hunter who has mastered the Igni Sign can easily deal with this plant without causing chaos for the people living here.

Wait until every corner of Kaer Morhen is repaired.

The home of the Wolf School witchers has become a complete home again.

Ciri, Geralt, Yennefer and others left first because they wanted to prepare for the wedding.

Harry and Hermione planned to go there at a leisurely pace.

Vesemir did not go with them either.

Toussaint is a good place, but for him... it's a sad place.

Lambert wanted to go with Harry, but was captured by Eskar. A mother always knows what her child wants.

The first stop Harry and his friends went to was Novigrad.

Go straight down the Pontar River, pass the Oxburgh, and you will arrive.

Compared with the last time they hurried back and forth, they have more time and more energy.

There was no Apparation or broomstick usage, they rode their horses and walked at a leisurely pace.

Harry even showed Hermione how a witcher worked.

Find a village, accept commissions, negotiate prices, and kill monsters.

The rewards were received amidst the villagers' either submissive or resistant emotions.

She also understood why Harry always reminded her to be careful.

Perhaps because Harry acted so quickly, the villagers felt that the problem their village encountered was not that big a problem. Most of them were not willing to pay, and some even took action - they did not dare to deal with a witcher, but Hermione seemed too easy to bully.

They picked up pitchforks and the teeth were knocked out.

"We've finally arrived in Novigrad." Hermione stretched lazily on the horse's back. The life of a witcher was very fresh at first, but after completing a few commissions, I was just tired of it.

The most important thing...

It’s almost hard to get thanks.

Novigrad still looks very well prepared.

Temple guards and witch hunters patrolled the streets, looking around, wishing to label everyone as a heretic.

Vanilla Hotel.

No, it should be called Chameleon Hotel now.

Due to the martial law in the city, business is not very good.

They pushed the door open and walked in.

Dandelion's pompous voice sounded: "Welcome, guest, you have come to the finest and most elegant inn in all of Novigrad!"

"Want something?"

Harry whispered, "Here's a dozen of Geralt's little secrets."

"Oh, Harry!" Dandelion said, opening his arms. "That's wonderful, my dearest friend."

Harry looked at him, not intending to hug him, with a suspicious look in his eyes: "You seem a little overenthusiastic."

"There is one thing I really need your help with." Dandelion said bluntly, "I think you are the only one in the world who can help me."

"Hmm?" Harry nodded.

Dandelion took the lead and walked to the second floor of the hotel: "Don't worry, this won't take up too much of your time."

"Geralt went to see Ciri too, I think..."

Harry interrupted him: "Ciri has been found, and all the troubles, I mean including the Wild Hunt, have been solved."

"I came to see you for something else."

Dandelion paused, then continued: "That's great news."

"But do you want to talk to me about something else?"

"Geralt is going to marry Yennefer," Harry said softly. "In half a month, the wedding will be held in Toussaint. You and Zoltan are invited to attend the wedding."

This news was so shocking that it caught people off guard.

Dandelion staggered and nearly fell down the stairs, but Harry snapped his fingers and used a levitation spell to hold him up, preventing the bard from rolling down like a ball.

"They are getting married?" Dandelion couldn't believe it.

Harry nodded.

Dandelion shook his head. "This news is shocking."

"It's hard to imagine that he would walk into the grave of marriage."

"He and Yennefer are both a hundred years old," Harry responded.

Dandelion shrugged. "I always overlook his age. Let's discuss this news with Zoltan later."

He walked to a door, stopped, and knocked carefully.

"Hey, Priscilla, I brought an old friend over to see you, can I come in?"

No one in the room spoke.

There was only a crisp sound of knocking on the table.

Dandelion pushed the door open and they walked in.

The poetess, who had once sung at the Kingfisher Inn and amazed everyone, sat at the table with a quill pen in her hand, and the table was covered with papers, some filled and some not.

"After you left Novigrad." Dandelion looked at Priscilla, sighed, and spoke slowly, "Geralt came over."

"At that time, Priscilla and I were worried about the new hotel. Fortunately, he helped us get some funds."

"But just then, Priscilla was attacked."

"Geralt was very brave. He dealt with the vampire and solved all the problems."

"But... Priscilla's voice was badly damaged, and she can no longer sing songs like before."

"Harry." Dandelion pronounced his name, raised his head and looked over with a sincere expression.

Priscilla shook her head and laughed. When she spoke, her voice was a little hoarse, not unpleasant, but very different from her previous lark-like state: "Dandelion, although I can no longer sing on the stage, it does not affect my writing of poetry. Isn't your performance also very popular?"