System of the Beast Slayer [litrpg Adventure]
Copyright© 1999 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 207
“The mad alchemist’s contract...”
“I settled it for you. You do not owe that man a single coin now.” Roy gave him an open, easy grin. “Berengar, the contract itself was rather interesting. Why did you refuse it in the first place?”
“You think it was interesting?” Berengar sat on the floor, his expression strange, his gaze a little hollow, as though some unpleasant memory had surfaced. “Kid, I’ll grant you this, you’ve got nerve. Me, I’d never let a sorcerer turn me into that kind of shaggy, squawking, revolting thing. Still, you got me out of that mess, so I owe you one. As for the labor on the weapons...”
With a sweat-slick palm, Berengar dragged his greasy hair back from his face. “I’ll give you half off.”
“One thing has nothing to do with the other ... We all saw how much you put in these past few days. You deserve to be paid. Besides, the price was settled already, and Letho would never agree.” Roy forced a magnanimous look as he stuffed the gold note into Berengar’s hand. Then he turned away, baring his teeth in pain at the loss. “There are still four swords left. I’ll be troubling you with them too.”
“Then call this my sponsored drinking money.” Berengar tucked the note away and yawned. “Now that the debt is cleared, I don’t need to run anymore ... I’m going back to sleep properly for once.”
“We continue tomorrow.”
Berengar slapped the moisture from his hands and rose. Fatigue had bent his frame ever so slightly. He passed straight by the two Witchers and walked into the deepening night.
“Remember what I told you!” Roy shouted after him. “If you go back now, the travel money’s more than enough!”
Berengar faltered for a moment. A vicious look flashed across his face. “Don’t talk to me about Kaer Morhen.”
The words had barely fallen before he quickened his pace.
“Kid,” Letho said, clutching the Viper dual swords tightly in his arms, his eyes fixed on Berengar’s receding back, “why are you urging him to go back?”
Roy stretched lazily. “The Wolf School is down to four men. If we can help them bring back one of their old members, that would make the finest gift possible.”
“Oh, spare me. There’s still no word from Geralt, and there’s no guarantee we’ll even make it to Kaer Morhen.” Letho shook his head. “Besides, Berengar’s been away from home for so many years, he’s long since grown used to walking alone. Changing his mind won’t be easy.”
“I can tell something in him was stirred, at least a little, but not nearly enough...” Roy paused, thinking of the conspiracy he had uncovered not long ago. “Still, next I intend to see the Lady of the Lake. Are you coming?”
...
The bright moon hung high. Lake Vizima swayed with a gentle grace, scattering ripples of silver light.
Then the quiet surface suddenly broke into white spray, and a grotesque creature burst up onto the sticky mud of the shore. Moonlight caught the glittering scales all over its body, and the limbs beneath them were shaped like those of a man.
A fish’s head sat atop its shriveled chest, and two bulging, round eyes rolled in their sockets. Perhaps it was simply old, for two long white fleshy whiskers drooped from its lips.
A rag of cloth was tied around its neck like a little cape covering its back, and duck-like webs stretched between its fingers and toes.
It scrambled to a rock crusted with shells near the shore and began to shout in guttural, bubbling cries that hissed through the air. Then two Witchers sprang out from behind the rock.
“We meet again...” Under the moonlight, the younger Witcher walked over and warmly extended a hand to the monster. This grotesque being was none other than Qike, the vodyanoi sage who had once led Roy to the Lady of the Lake.
“Grrgl ... waka...” Qike’s whiskers trembled wildly with excitement. Then he grasped the Witcher’s hand and left behind a slick patch of slime on Roy’s palm.
“I understand. Meeting an old friend again is worth celebrating. I’m glad too.” The Witcher flashed a bright smile and spoke from the heart. The vodyanoi might wear a catfish head and look ridiculous, but there was sincerity in him. “How have you been lately?”
(The degenerate ones are all dead, the goddess has awakened, and our tribe has welcomed its twentieth member, a lovely little one.)
“That’s good ... Qike, my friend, I called to the goddess by the lake this afternoon, but there was no answer. Do you know why?”
“Kuri!” Qike’s eyes shifted to the broad, bald Letho standing behind Roy, and wariness entered them. “Uzh River?”
“Do not worry. He has fought and bled beside me. He reveres the goddess as well. I want to bring him with me to pay my respects. Is that permitted?”
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