System of the Beast Slayer [litrpg Adventure]
Copyright© 2025 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 27
Letho looked a little tired, faint scratches standing out on his knotted muscles. “Hym’s dead.” He extended a hand toward the Dwarf and opened his palm to show a clump of gray powder, still giving off a faint, warm iron smell.
Roy took a quick sniff of that familiar scent and let a small, knowing smile pull at his mouth. He had expected as much.
“Master Letho, I cannot thank you enough.” Severin scooped up a handful of the Hym’s remains and clenched them like an offering, his eyes wet. Only now did his shoulders drop, the tension finally leaving him. The Witcher had been stronger than he imagined; even remembering the ferocity of the fight made him shiver.
No doubt about it, the terrible thing that had tormented him for months was finally dead.
Relief burst out of him. He scattered the ash into the air, then, unable to wait, produced a banknote from his pocket and pressed it into Letho’s hand, gratitude plain on his face. “This is the agreed reward. Any branch of Vivaldi, Giancardi, or Zionvanielli will cash it.”
Letho glanced at the figure and pocketed the note. He knew those Dwarf banks had branches in nearly every major city.
“Master Witcher, Roy, the Dwarves have quietly supported the rebels mainly to balance power in Aldersberg, which benefits merchants and townsfolk alike. If the secret leaked that the rebel leader Vernon Roche died in a Dwarf’s wine barrel, Mahakam Dwarves would be branded as allied with the baron, and the balance would collapse. Please, you must keep this secret.”
“Of course,” Letho said in a low voice, “I will not stain the honor of the Viper School.”
“I swear the same,” Roy added.
Severin bowed deeply, sincere. “You have my gratitude. From now on you will always be my honored guests; you are welcome at my house any time. But enough talk, it is late. Let me host you for one more meal, lunch in the manor.”
“Mr. Hogg, you flatter us,” Letho answered, not taking the sycophancy, “this was a fair contract, you paid, business is settled. Still, another meal is all right.”
Back in the great hall and with Severin momentarily gone, Roy studied Letho with fresh curiosity as if seeing the bald Witcher anew. Letho’s poker face flickered into mild annoyance under the scrutiny before Roy dared to ask quietly, “So the cellar really had a monster?”
Letho gave him a surprised look. “What do you think?”
“You handed Severin what you called Hym remains, but actually it was Wyvern droppings, wasn’t it? I smelled that same stuff for nights out in the wild; I would not mistake it.”
Roy was nine parts certain: the “Hym remains” Letho gave the Dwarf matched the Wyvern dung Letho had used the other nights to ward off beasts.
“He wanted a monster destroyed so he could sleep. So I gave him a monster, that seems fair,” Letho said.
“If you can’t find the real monster, he’ll never rest.” Letho paused, then added, “You’ll understand when you’re older; sometimes the dark things in a person’s heart are more terrifying than any monster.”
“At least, the contract went smoothly. Severin should be able to sleep now.”
Letho watched the ceiling lit by torchlight and sounded oddly wistful. Roy doubted ash alone would kill the fear, but the Witcher had more experience, and he deferred.
“I have one question,” Roy said. “How did you conjure that Hym reflection, it almost fooled me.”
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