System of the Beast Slayer [litrpg Adventure]
Copyright© 1999 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 167
Morning mist hung over the Yaruga. Upon its lazy-moving waters, a barge flying a blue field with three lions struggled forward at a sluggish pace.
Most of the passengers aboard were merchants and farmers, dozing where they sat.
Near the prow stood a small squad of soldiers in gleaming silver mail, steel swords at their hips. Before them, a little girl in a spotless white dress gazed out at the islands and scattered islets looming faintly through the fog.
“Coral, how much longer?”
“Lord Krause said no more than three hours before we reach Nastrog.”
Ciri yawned and lowered her head, counting the white blossoms of foam split apart by the barge. A trace of drowsiness showed on her face. “The Yaruga is empty as a grave, terribly dull.” Then she pointed indignantly toward the drowsy folk at the stern. “And why do I have to travel with a pack of people who do nothing but snore?”
“Your Highness, do try to be understanding. There is no shame in sharing a boat with your own subjects. And please, do not lean over the side, it is too dangerous.” The round-faced maid spoke while nervously tugging at the little girl’s arm, pulling her a little farther from the rail.
“Hmph. Coward. You should never have come along.”
...
Back among the common folk at the stern.
“Pleasant enough.”
A smile touched the Witcher’s lips as he shifted into a more comfortable position, admiring the endless river view. Sunlight spilled across the murky yellow water; mist drifted low, waves rolled and folded, the whole thing like a blurred oil painting.
A moment later he sighed, because someone had sat down beside him as if they had known each other for years.
The newcomer was a thin little man in his thirties, dressed in an oversized, not especially clean cloak fastened with a round brass brooch. He leaned his head toward the Witcher, cleared his throat, and narrowed his severely shortsighted eyes.
“Forgive me, sir, but you are a Witcher, are you not?”
“No.”
“Dark-gold pupils, slit like a beast’s. I’d stake my life that you are.”
“Your eyes are deceiving you.”
“You needn’t admit it.” The thin man laughed openly. “I merely wanted someone to talk to and pass the dull hours. And in a manner of speaking, a Witcher and I ought to have a fair number of topics in common.”
That, at least, stirred Roy’s curiosity.
“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Linus Pitt, Master Tutor and Lecturer in Natural History at Oxenfurt Academy.”
Oxenfurt Academy, the famed Oxenfurt, home to one of the finest universities in the world. The poet Dandelion and the physician Shani had both studied there.
“Very well then, Master Linus, a pleasure.” The man was clearly a scholar of some standing, yet he addressed a young Witcher with courtesy.
The boy returned the courtesy and offered his hand. “Roy, Witcher of the Viper School.”
“What brings you all this way west to Verden, sir?”
“I have no wish to go to Verden.” Linus withdrew his hand and corrected him. “I am searching this river basin for certain rare and mysterious species. Yet after all these years, I have roamed the Pontar and now the Yaruga, and still I have always just missed them.”
“And what do you want with such things?” The Witcher frowned. Rare and mysterious creatures usually meant lethal danger.
“Do not tell me you are some sort of animal protection zealot.”
Linus Pitt nodded.
“To be frank, near Oxenfurt I established a preserve for rare animals, a breeding ground devoted to endangered species, so they may reproduce properly and not vanish from the world.”
“For that reason, I spend several months of every year traveling to all corners of the Continent, gathering rare species. This year’s subject remains aquatic life.”
“I have heard that Witchers are masters in the field of unusual creatures. Since fortune has brought me to you, I wished to ask your advice. Do you know anything of the communities of life dwelling in the Yaruga basin?”
When he had finished, Linus looked at the Witcher with open expectation.
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