Chapter 173: He Could Have Just Robbed Us Directly
One bandit ran into the Cockatrice Inn, leaving the remaining two nervously holding their weapons on this side of the bridge.
As the two figures approached, these two bandits visibly grew more anxious.
They realized that the approaching individuals wore unfamiliar, uniform attire and had two swords strapped to their backs.
What unsettled them even more were the eyes of the two strangers. For heaven's sake, whose eyes were like a cat's?
Fortunately, their unease didn't last long. The bandit leader, along with other bandits, emerged from the inn.
They gathered by the bridge, enough to completely block it. The numerical advantage emboldened even the most timid among them.
Seeing the two approach, the bandit leader stepped forward with a wide smile. "Greetings, travelers. It's quite hot, isn't it? Want to cross here? Of course, you can, but you'll have to pay a toll: ten florins per person."
Lynn and Geralt exchanged glances. Geralt said in a sarcastic tone, "I'm truly touched. He could have just robbed us directly, but he insists on calling it a toll."
Behind the bandit leader, a bandit holding a crossbow said, "Actually, it's not a toll. We're just robbing you, understand?"
"Shut up! Even a drowned dead understands this situation!" The bandit leader chastised his subordinate before turning back to the witchers. "I really don't want to make things ugly. After all, this is civilized land. So, gentlemen, what's your answer?"
"Of course, it's..."
"Shoot!"
Without waiting for the witchers' reply, the bandit leader suddenly roared the command.
In truth, he had no intention of genuinely negotiating. His previous words were merely meant to lower their guard.
After all, the two strangers didn't look like ordinary travelers and were unlikely to meekly comply.
Most people who lived by the sword had such an annoying habit. Furthermore, even if they had willingly paid, wouldn't killing them allow the bandits to take all their money?
Faster than words could describe, three crossbow bolts became three blurry phantoms, shooting towards their targets.
In the eyes of the bandit leader and his subordinates, these two sword-wielding figures were dead. No one could dodge three crossbows at such close range...
What? How was that possible?!
The imagined scene of bodies pierced by crossbow bolts didn't unfold. Lynn easily sidestepped, dodging the bolts.
Geralt, meanwhile, swung his sword, deflecting the incoming bolt. Then, as the bandits watched with wide-open mouths, the two witchers swiftly charged towards them.
"Block them! Go! Go!"
Two bandits were pushed forward by the bandit leader, then another two. One of the bandits instinctively recoiled, but the remaining three exchanged glances and roared, meeting the charging witchers shoulder-to-shoulder.
When the two sides were still a few meters apart, Lynn suddenly pushed off the bridge surface with a powerful thrust.
He then lunged like a pouncing ice wolf, slamming into the middle of the three opposing bandits, moving even faster than before. In their vision, Lynn's movements were almost imperceptible, at most a fleeting blur.
The cornered bandit instinctively swung his weapon, attempting to ward off the approaching witcher, but to Lynn, the opponent's stance was already in disarray, without any technique.
Lynn's Gwyhyr struck the side of the wildly swinging longsword, deflecting it. Using his forward momentum, he plunged Gwyhyr into the bandit's chest.
Both tumbled several meters. Lynn immediately sprang up, placing a foot on the bandit's stomach. Gwyhyr was pulled out, trailing a spray of blood.
He only glanced back quickly, seeing that Geralt had instinctively engaged the remaining two bandits, and shifted his focus away from them. Instead, he lowered his body and charged towards the remaining disorganized bandits.
Three more crossbow bolts flew. Lynn leaped up, like a fish twisting in the air, dodging the incoming bolts while simultaneously jumping onto the bridge's low railing.
This railing was short and narrow; most people wouldn't even dare to lean on it, fearing they might fall off. But under the witcher's boots, it felt like solid ground.
He moved along the railing, bypassing the bandits blocking his path, and swiftly charged in front of the three crossbow-wielding bandits. The latter were still fumbling to reload, but it was clearly too late.
Three flashes of cold light. In the blink of an eye, the three crossbow-wielding bandits became three corpses.
"Die!" The bandit leader lunged at the witcher from behind.
But Lynn's reaction was faster than he anticipated.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The bandit leader's longsword and shortsword clashed with Gwyhyr several times, steel striking steel in a shower of sparks. Both sides instinctively retreated simultaneously.
"Damn it! Blast it!"
The bandit leader spat on the ground, a wary look on his face. This was the first time he'd felt such immense pressure.
Most people could only wield one weapon at a time, perhaps with a shield. But he was different. He fought in a two-weapon style, using a longsword and a shortsword. The shortsword could be used for defense, while the longsword leaned towards offense.
Of course, this wasn't absolute. One sword could also be used for a feint, while the other launched a truly deadly attack when the opponent's attention was diverted.
Naturally, learning a two-weapon style was much harder than learning to use a single weapon. But once mastered, it provided a significant advantage against opponents unfamiliar with its rhythm.
The bandit leader had even used his two-weapon style to open a knight's armor before. Yet the witcher, despite being younger than him, seemed to understand the two-weapon style very well, blocking all his attacks.
What he didn't know was that although Lynn was young, his already mastered "Master Wolf School Swordsmanship" skill granted him extensive techniques and experience in fighting against any weapon.
This naturally included the two-weapon style. A witcher's physical prowess was superior to an ordinary human's; a few seconds of breathing room were enough for them to recover more stamina than a normal person.
Before the other surrounding bandits could close in, Lynn pressed forward again. He raised Gwyhyr with both hands over his head and brought down a powerful, heavy chop.
The bandit leader quickly dodged sideways. But he didn't expect it to be a feint.
Lynn's left foot pivoted on the ground, his body spinning like a top, his posture as graceful as a dance. But the blade he swung whipped out like a lash, brutally striking the bandit leader's hastily raised twin swords.
The latter stumbled from the blow, falling backward onto the ground.
He knew he was in trouble, but he had no time to react.
The rapidly approaching dark silhouette, trailing a silvery cold gleam, swept upwards from below. All his strength drained away at that moment, like a retreating tide. His body, stiff as a board, fell face down onto the ground.
A large pool of blood flowed from beneath him, staining the muddy ground red.
.....
For 100 advanced chapters:
p_treon.com/Chaos_God
Thank you so much for your support and for reading