Chapter 166: Witchers Have Limits
Looking at the ravaged nekker nest and then at himself, Lynn saw no wounds, save for the foul nekker blood staining his clothes.
Even Letho wore an expression of disbelief.
In his witcher career, he had faced similar situations. However, based on his past experience, dealing with a nekker horde of nearly a hundred, especially one with a nekker chieftain, would typically require a bitter struggle, even with the advantage of terrain to limit their numbers.
A nekker horde with a chieftain would also produce a certain number of nekker warriors. These warriors would not only protect the chieftain but also blend in with regular nekkers, waiting for an opportunity to launch surprise attacks on enemies.
In the past, Letho and his companions, Auckes and Serrit, had suffered several painful setbacks when fighting nekker hordes.
He vividly remembered one instance where he was forced to fight alone against over fifty nekkers.
Although he ultimately outlasted those dozens of nekkers, including the chieftain and warriors, by relying on the Viper School's expertise with poisons and his ability to fight and move, preventing the horde from ever fully surrounding him...
Letho himself collapsed due to severe injuries. Fortunately, he was rescued by a passing merchant caravan and then spent a long time recovering in an inn.
Even that was thanks to the enhanced physique witchers gained from mutations; a normal person with such severe injuries might not have survived.
This time, he had also prepared for a bitter struggle. But to his surprise, it had gone so smoothly. In fact, it had gone almost too smoothly. It felt like a dream.
While Letho was reflecting, Lynn wasn't idle. He systematically dug through the nekker corpses, searching for traces of mutagenic substances.
These were important and valuable alchemical ingredients. After using so many alchemical bombs, even if Letho agreed to give him seventy percent of the reward, it would at best break even. Whether he made a profit would depend on how many mutagens he could unearth.
Of course, besides mutagens, other parts of the nekkers were also valuable for collection. Even if he didn't use them himself, selling them to sorcerers could fetch a good price.
As for the battle itself, there wasn't much to say. For a side with superior firepower, wasn't this the expected outcome? Witchers weren't just brute swordsmen.
Potions and alchemical bombs were also among a witcher's tools. Flexible, adaptable, and skilled in utilizing firepower—that's a bomber... I mean, a witcher.
"Not a bad haul."
Lynn looked gleefully at the various colored, brain-like flesh balls placed in glass vials. There were a total of four mutagens: two minor red mutagens, one common green mutagen, and one greater blue mutagen. Red enhanced strength, green enhanced vitality, and blue enhanced signs.
Letho proactively picked up the vial containing the common green mutagen and rattled it at Lynn. "This one's mine. The rest are yours. Don't argue with me; you lost so many alchemical bombs, you deserve compensation."
Since Letho put it that way, Lynn didn't stand on ceremony. He put the remaining three mutagens into his magic-imbued leather pouch.
In the deepest part of the nest, the two witchers saw several enormous embryos clinging to the walls.
The embryos were mostly amber-colored, their surfaces like solidified liquid, encasing partial remains of animals, humans, elves, and dwarves. Deeper within, the nekker hatchlings already showed discernible forms. Several nekker hatchlings were in each embryo; if left unchecked, in a few months, dozens of lively nekkers would be causing havoc everywhere.
"Is... is anyone there? Who's there? Please... help me..."
Lynn followed the sound. In a corner, a middle-aged elf was confined in a small wooden cage. The cage was not just a prison; it was also a torture device, holding his hands and feet rigidly in an unmovable position.
Because the middle-aged elf's back was facing the nest entrance, he couldn't see the invading witchers. He could only infer someone had entered by the earlier explosion, the sounds of silver swords cutting through flesh, and the nekkers' wails.
Lynn split open the cage with a single sword stroke. He turned the elf over.
"Thank the gods, someone finally came."
Having been curled in that position on the ground for so long, his hands and feet numb, the middle-aged elf tried to stand up, but his limbs wouldn't obey. He could only sit on the filthy ground and thank the two.
"I am Thanesel. I'm willing to serve you two masters. You're witchers, right? You must have a need for armor?"
"I don't mean to boast, but there are few people on the continent who can match my craftsmanship. As long as you two masters get me out of this cursed place, I'm willing to forge a set of armor for each of you, free of charge. I guarantee you'll be satisfied."
Lynn took out a bottle of pure water and offered it to the elf. Thanesel immediately took it and gulped it down.
"We came for you. We only get paid if we bring you out alive. Of course, we have no objection if you're willing to craft us two of the best armors."
After he had rehydrated, Letho helped him up to leave. Lynn walked at the back, using his Igni Sign to burn away all the nekker embryos.
When they finally managed to climb out of the sewers and return to the surface, it was already noon.
Looking at the blinding sun in the sky and feeling the scorching heat on his body, Thanesel's eyes welled up with tears, and he couldn't help but fall to his knees. While trapped in that confined underground space, he had countless times thought he was doomed. He never expected to actually make it out alive.
He swore he would never go near underground areas or caves again.
"Master Thanesel..."
Hearing the witcher's voice beside him, the elven master blacksmith quickly stood up.
"Rest assured, Master Witchers, I, Thanesel, will keep my promises to you, without fail. I have an armory in Beauclair that's been around for over a hundred years. After you collect your contract reward, you can find me there, and I'll tailor-make armor for both of you."
Lynn smiled and said, "That would be very kind of you. However, what I was about to say, Master Thanesel, is: could we use the shower room at your shop to clean ourselves?"
Thanesel paused for a moment, then chuckled. "Of course, my esteemed masters, please follow me."
.....
For early access to 100 advanced chapters on p_treon
p_treon.com/Chaos_God
Thank you so much for your support and for reading