System of the Beast Slayer [litrpg Adventure]
Copyright© 1999 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 170
After finishing his conversation with Adonis, Roy had no choice but to face questioning from Krause and his men.
“My destination happens to be the same as yours.” The Witcher winked at the little princess, whose sweet dimples had already appeared in full force. “I took on a job in Cintra. My employer needs me to run an errand in Verden.”
“The truth, Master Roy.” Krause’s gaze was sharp as a blade. “Not long ago, you completed the queen’s commission and left the palace. And now, by pure chance, you happen to board the same vessel as Her Highness? Do not try to fob us off with coincidence.”
“That is exactly what it is.” Roy gave a helpless shrug. Across from him, the little princess kept making faces and winking at him, until the round-faced maid pulled her behind her back. A flicker of alarm flashed through the maid’s eyes, though she still thrust out her sturdy little chest and shielded the princess like a brooding hen, blocking the Witcher’s view.
“The road from Cintra to Verden is neither especially short nor especially long. The Yaruga is the only route that must be taken. I’m a penniless Witcher, and this barge fare is the only fare I can afford.”
After hearing that, Krause looked Roy up and down once more. Seeing that the youth’s expression remained calm and untroubled, he waved a hand and signaled the tense soldiers to stand down.
“For now, I’ll call it coincidence. Still, I hope you remember your station and show Her Highness the respect due to her.”
With that, he asked no more.
The warriors of Cintra were seasoned on the water and brave in battle, but none of them had ever seen such a grotesque and deadly giant octopus before. No one knew how to deal with such a thing.
“Her Highness’s body is worth more than gold. She must not suffer the slightest harm.”
A Witcher might be low-born, but after what Roy had just shown, there could hardly be a better bodyguard.
“Let him follow.”
The escort said no more to the Witcher, though neither did they allow him near Ciri. Much as Ciri waved her little fists in protest, unwilling to accept it, she was still hauled bodily into the cabin by the round-faced maid.
Watching the river return to calm, Roy let out a sigh and sat back down among the passengers. The moment he did, the voices around him stopped short, and an awkward hush spread through the crowd.
Aside from the Oxenfurt Academy professor, whose thoughts were wholly consumed by the Longarm Octopus, none of the passengers dared sit near the rail anymore. Instead they crowded into the center of the barge. But when the Witcher joined them, their seating shifted in curious ways.
Those farther off quietly edged nearer to him. Those too close to him gradually worked their way farther away. Without exception, everyone stole glances at him from the corners of their eyes. Their expressions varied. One or two pursed lips and frowned, revealing the faintest trace of hidden fear.
But more than fear, there was awe, though the fear was stronger. Those who had spoken casually beside the Witcher not long ago now sat stiff and silent, scarcely daring to breathe.
“Witcher?” At that moment, the little boy lying in his mother’s arms called to him timidly.
“What is it, child?”
“You ... you’re not at all like the stories say.” Being addressed by the Witcher seemed to lend the boy courage.
“In what way?”
“My friends all say Witchers have huge bloody mouths, hands like wolf claws, sores all over their bodies, and that they ... eat people.” Little Brugge leaned forward very solemnly, his black eyes rolling with curiosity. There was not the slightest trace of awe in him.
His mother, the full-bodied woman, instantly covered the boy’s mouth and flashed the Witcher a smile full of appeasement and fear.
“Master, children never know when to stop talking. Please don’t mind his nonsense.”
“Mm.” The Witcher nodded and said no more. A moment later, he drew his hood over his face again, leaned back against the yellowed wood of the cabin wall, folded his arms behind his head, and shut his eyes, feigning sleep as the barge rocked with the motion of the river.
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