Chapter 286 285. Cormorant Curse of the Witcher
After Lan En dealt with the corpse on the road, he arrived at a small place called Ham in Verden in the afternoon.
The witcher stopped Popeye in front of the tavern, dismounted with the already emptied supply bag, and prepared to fill the water bladder, as well as bread, cheese, roast chicken and so on.
Pushing open the spliced door with steam coming out from the cracks in the wooden boards, Lan En walked in.
The tall figure is not eye-catching because everyone wears bulky clothes in winter.
Lan En only had Arondette on his waist and his eyes were hidden under his hood, so the drunkards in the tavern didn't notice that he was a mutant.
“There is something here. Forget it, let’s have a stronger drink first.”
The owner of the tavern is a man with a rag on his shoulders that is starting to shine black and oily. He is a The man greeted the three tables of drunkards in the tavern, and he shrugged indifferently.
As usual, a small wooden cup the size of a tiger's mouth ring was placed on the table. Then he took out a half-full glass bottle from under the counter and poured out the strong-flavored liquid.
“The vodka I brewed by myself is the best to ward off the cold.”
Lan En picked up the wine glass with three fingers and raised it slightly toward the boss. Then he emptied the glass in one gulp. After swallowing it, he let out an alcoholic breath from between his teeth.
"Huh - how far is this from the border with Brugg?"
The tavern owner took back the cup Lan En had used, poured water into it and shook it dry before placing it upside down on the table. Wait for it to dry.
“We have baked apples, cold bread that can be reheated, carrots, potatoes, and if you can afford it, I can get you a grilled fish. From here, it’s two more steps along the forest. In half a day, we will see the border checkpoint.”
The boss answered Lan En’s two questions at once.
The witcher's hood moved up and down, and the thick arm armor exposed under the cloak made the boss look slightly sideways, but he didn't have any further reaction.
The current situation is turbulent. It is strange that there is no one who dares to go on the road alone these days.
It’s just that this person’s equipment is a bit better today.
It’s not like I’ve never seen him open a tavern on the roadside.
"Put everything that can fit into the bag, fill the water bag with light beer, and I will eat the grilled fish here, thank you."
"This is a total of two silver coins, sir?"
Lan En's politeness made the boss look at him again in surprise, and later even said the honorific in an uncertain tone.
Seeing Lan En's leather gloves holding two dim silver coins on the table, he quickly started preparing to start the meal.
"There's room over there, sir. Please don't mind those drunks, they won't get in the way."
"Of course, I don't care."
With that said, Lan En had already walked to the seat, gathered the hem of his cloak, and sat on the bench.
These drunkards who start drinking in the afternoon are all nearby farmers. Winter is the slack time for farming. They either go out to drink every day or beat their wives until they scream at home.
These people really won't cause any trouble, but if they see Lan En's cat eyes when they are drunk, they will probably become a little confused.
When people with low status see people with a lower status than themselves, their excitement and sense of superiority will even be greater than that of gentlemen.
A witcher is a person with a low enough status.
Although Lan En could knock down the entire tavern with one hand, what's the use of it? The perception of people with long-term inertia will not change just because of a fight.
“Have you heard?”
A drunken farmer smiled at his companion and said.
"Our Miss Eliza thought of a way to save her brother again this time. She wanted to knit a sweater with nettles and put it on her brother."
"Philippines Is Sir Snart still saved? How long has it been since he became a cormorant? "
"He deserves it. Who should he sleep with? Sleeping with a witch? Let me tell you, there is a curse in the witch's vagina! If a man sticks it in, it will be bad! As long as you dare to leave her, you will turn into a corvette the next day. "Fuck!"
The comments that came out of the farmers' mouths were harsh and explicit, and full of absurd imagination, which made Lan En cough immediately. He felt that Margarita should not give herself such a curse.
The curse that turns people into cormorants. Hey, if there were no warlocks or demon hunters, the folk remedies in folklore would probably not be able to cure Sir Fresnet in his lifetime.
Amidst the lively discussion among the farmers, the grilled fish was served.
Lan En took a fork and began to split the white meat on the fish bone. The boss brought an extra glass of light beer, and then returned to the counter to fill his supply bag.
The farmers on the table behind them became more energetic during the discussion.
A nobleman was cursed to turn into a waterfowl, and his sister tried her best to lift the curse. This was really an excellent conversation piece in the boring medieval countryside.
At least for a moment, Lan En had heard doubts coming from the table behind him.
It is said that Sir did not become a cormorant, but was cursed to become a swan.
Witches are also women, and as long as they are women, they always prefer white swans to cormorants.
The farmer at the same table who told the story at the beginning quickly changed his story after a period of self-doubt and said that he had turned into a swan.
It seems that this statement can make the whole story more vivid and romantic.
For the sake of the smoothness of the story, and in order to attract more eyeballs and listeners during storytelling, storytellers have always been willing to 'appropriately adapt' the facts.
While eating fish, Lan En witnessed the birth of a rumor.
He should not only laugh but also feel sad for this knight. In short, he couldn't laugh or cry.
The knight's sister tried to use the methods in country legends to lift the curse, but it was mostly in vain.
Curse should be left to professionals, such as warlocks and witchers.
Information that becomes ‘rumor’ in the process of dissemination will cause great trouble to those who solve the curse and increase the difficulty out of thin air.
Lan En quickly finished the small grilled fish, took the bag of supplies packed by the boss, and was ready to set off again.
I don't have actual combat experience in the witcher business of lifting curses yet, so don't practice on this knight.
Maybe he won’t even be able to act like a cormorant.
Now, the young witcher can only pray in his heart that this knight will not die before the curse is lifted because of the parasites on the raw fish.
But just when the young people were about to walk into the biting cold wind again, the farmers' jokes entered a new stage.
"Okay, okay, this fun is almost over. King Aiweier has had enough of the humiliation our Sir has suffered and the impact on the country's reputation. He is a rare generous person and spends a sum of money to invite us. A demon hunter, come to lift the curse of our Baron Hamm.”
"Demon hunter? Who is that?"
"It's a demon hunter, an idiot. He's a guy who specializes in lifting curses and hunting monsters."
" Oh!" There was a sound of drinking, followed by a burp. "Hiccup - Then they are really weird!"
"Okay? What a fart! You think they mean well, but they want a lot of gold coins and your children! They are all monsters , the guy who kills monsters and works with King Aiweier is said to have milky white hair! It makes people feel chilly just looking at it!"
Lan En opened the wooden door of the tavern for a moment. Then he walked out normally.
A strand of his silver hair, which shimmered in the light, slipped out from the hood of his cloak.
“Come with us?”
“Weeden and Brugg, there are three demon hunters?”
Getting on his horse, Lan headed towards the village’s most powerful Walk towards the magnificent manor. Under the hood, an interesting smile appeared on the thin and graceful lips.
“This is really exciting.”
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(End of this chapter)