"Difu, you've slept in the tavern for another night!" On the way to the entrance of the village, a villager was enjoying the drunken drunks on the roadside.

"Don't call me Defoe in the future, call me Kolfal! Do you understand Kolfal? Nifgad's surname! My grandma is from the south!" shouted the drunkard.

"So noble Mr. Kofair, come home and see your wife, oh sorry, look at your Mrs. Kofair, hahahaha..."

Two figures riding horses appeared at the entrance of the village.

The two of them were covered in mud, in a mess, and their bodies were smelly.

But the villagers saw the delicate armor and gorgeous robe under the sludge, and looked at the weapons he was carrying. It was obvious that it was not easy to mess with, so they quickly went to the side and made way.

Zach looked around the dilapidated village called Lindenville.

There are about ten wooden houses, but two are still collapsed.

In front of the simple house, there were about a dozen villagers standing scattered on the muddy road. Several of them had put down their work and were looking at the two of them curiously.

The witch hunter and the mage stopped in front of the largest wooden house in the village, dismounted their horses and unsaded them, and tied their reins.

Geralt inserted the silver sword hanging on his horse back, and Zach threw the body of Weed on the pile of forage. The two of them pushed the door and walked into the wooden house.

The villagers around gathered up and curiously surrounded the body of Weaver, pointing and shouting.

But no one knew that this deformed old woman was the "god" they had worshipped for hundreds of years.

----

"Eddie! Prepare two buckets of bath water for me, then serve two bottles of Mahakan soju, four roasted potatoes and two roasted chicken!"

The tavern is very simple. If it weren't for the fact that there were several sets of tables and chairs, it would look like an empty warehouse. There were no customers in the store, only a drunken man was lying on the table in the corner.

A bearded man who was wiping the table in front of the counter raised his head, squinted his eyes and looked at the two people coming in. After a while, he asked tentatively: "Geralt?"

Then he covered his nose and whispered, "Are you going to hunt shit monsters today?"

"Don't talk nonsense!" Geralt then took out a gold coin from his arms and threw it at the other party.

The big man caught the gold coins, stretched out his palm and looked at it. The corner of his mouth first raised, and then said with a stern face: "We won't accept Oren, you have to pay me Florin."

Oren is the official gold coin of Temogard. Now that Temogard has been conquered by Nifgad, Oren has become a waste coin, and the official is asking the public to exchange Nifgad's Florin gold coins at 2:1.

"Bad, half of the things I ordered are worthless."

Seeing that the shop owner could not take advantage of the witch hunter, he glanced at the unconscious drunkard lying on the table in the corner, secretly stuffed the money into his arms, and then pointed to the side door behind him without looking back and said, "Go to the well to fetch water."

---

Half an hour later, Geralt and Zach were sitting on both sides of a simple wooden table in half-wet single-clothed shorts, with dripping robe armor and black robe hanging on the burning fire.

In front of me was a table of chicken bones and potato skins.

"Tell me, tell me what method you plan to track down Cialis. And where you came from, and that war ten years later." Geralt asked in a low voice.

Zach frowned and pushed the wine glass aside, opening up the conversation. He told the customs and customs of the world of the wizards, social organizations, the destruction of his own world, and the counterattack plan ten years later.

But he did not mention his long past life and his strange connection with this world.

At least at the moment, that is the secret that needs to be buried in the deepest part of his heart.

After hearing this, Bai Lang fell into silence, as if he was digesting this massive amount of information.

After a long time he said slowly, "So you ran to this world to find cannon fodder? And you even came to me?"

Zach opened his mouth to say something, but he felt that what Geralt said was indeed fine. After a while, he nodded: "Ha, you're right to say that..."

"But I have come to this world, and it's only a matter of time before I become a treasure in the mages. Actually, you don't have a better choice."

"Warlocks like to talk a lot the most, but I have never seen any warlock realize their ambitions." Geralt poured himself another glass of wine. His amber eyes were full of disdain.

"I remember the warlock named Wigofortz was not very close? Tell me Geralt, if Wigofortz could smooth out a city with a wave, who would you think the world would be dominating now?"

Geralt's hand pouring wine stopped in the air, and his unhappy expression floated between his eyebrows: "But in my opinion, you, the so-called mage, can't even handle a Fentite monster."

"I am just the lowest level mage, and countless mages are stronger than me. Higher level mages are even stronger than gods."

"Well, this tone is quite consistent with my impression of warlock..." Geralt whispered, and took another sip of wine: "As for the gods? Are you referring to the kind of thing lying on the grass outside the door?"

"That kind of thing can only be considered an extraordinary creature at best, and a real god is much more powerful. And it is not uncommon in the multiverse."

Geralt glanced at the black-haired mage: "I am an atheist, and the warlocks I know are also atheists. You wizards are really interesting."

Zach fell into silence, realizing that it was impossible for him to gain Geralt's trust in just a few words, let alone reach a consensus on long-term cooperation.

The experiences of the two are very different.

There are few powerful individuals in the world of witch hunters, such as there is no god in this world.

There are indeed several self-deprecating gods here, but they have never shown great miracles. It is very likely that they are just a few "pseudo-gods" below level three.

The only secret existence that can match the gods is bound by layers of contract rules.

Most of the strong representatives of this world - warlocks - are only at the level of trainee mages, and the most powerful spell casters can only barely touch the threshold of a first-level mage.

Living in this world for a lifetime, with Geralt's insight, it is hard to imagine the great power of mages moving mountains and filling seas.

The power of the mage and the prosperity of civilization described in his mouth are just a fantasy for Geralt.

His spell casting ability has been suppressed at the level of a trainee mage and has not yet shown convincing strength.

After thinking for a while, Zach decided to find another way, and he said slowly;

"It's OK. I don't need you to believe me now, and you don't need to make decisions now..."

"But I will continue to look for Xiri no matter what, and you can judge it yourself later. If you and your friends agree to cooperate, we can also try to help you solve the problem of Baishuang and save this world on the verge of destruction..."

The amber pupils of the witch hunter shrank into a thin line, and he became increasingly unable to understand the black-haired young man opposite the table.

He was full of nonsense, but he was good at being very strong, and his knowledge and knowledge were profound. Moreover, he proposed to find Xili first, which was very sincere.

It's not bad to try it!

"I don't care about Bai Shuang..." Bai Lang interrupted Zach.

"Whether you are a group of warlocks who are stronger than gods or a group of perverts who just like to be excited about the corpses of the Ota, I still only care about one thing, that is, to find Xiri..." Geralt stood up and walked towards the dry clothes beside the stove: "I remember you have more than one condition, so tell me what we need to do next."

Zach's mouth slightly raised: "Go and find your warlock friends."

Geralt put on his armor and began to lower his head and wipe the silver sword carefully: "Then you open a portal, let's go to Toustente, White Crow Vineyard."

"I won't open the portal."

Bang!

The silver sword fell to the ground.
Chapter completed!