In this era of scarce entertainment,
the charm of Gwent was truly irresistible.
The next morning, the old druid, who had stayed up all night playing cards, was still fast asleep.
Guilliman and the dryad sister didn't wake him. They grabbed their weapons and gear and headed towards the shores of Vizima Lake.
While traveling and chatting along the way, the witcher discovered that the dryad race was indeed exceptionally gifted at moving through jungle and swamp environments.
With his physical fitness, if he didn't exert himself fully, he would likely find it difficult to shake off the dryad maiden behind him.
The sister had traveled all this way, and aside from a bit of mud on her feet, the rest of her body remained clean and delicate, completely unharmed, as if the thorny bushes, snakes, insects, and rodents couldn't hurt her.
She truly lived up to her reputation as a special race, "Daughter of the Forest," blessed by the forest's favor.
The two traveled for about two hours and soon arrived at a lakeside covered in reeds and water plants.
Just as Guilliman looked at Buir, his guide, with some confusion,
the dryad sister fiddled around in the reeds for a bit and pulled out a small wooden boat from somewhere. Judging by its style, it looked as if it had been transformed from a tree stump by natural magic.
"The Goddess's altar is on a small island next to Black Tern Island."
"We must take a boat to get there."
Buir held two sturdy oars, naturally preparing to take on the role of ferryman. This made the witcher, who was always extra courteous to ladies, a little uncomfortable.
Indeed, in the dryad race's Concept, there was no unwritten rule that men must defer to women, nor any concept of chivalry. Instead, whenever danger arose, female warriors had to step forward and fight for their homeland.
Guilliman stood on the shore, observing the situation on the distant lake, and casually dispatched a few water hags that came over, as if slicing melons and dicing vegetables.
He suddenly thought of something, then took out a smaller, half-plate armor set with a helmet from his storage space and handed it to Buir.
"Is this human armor, Mr. Guilliman?"
"Why are you giving this to me?"
The dryad race probably wasn't accustomed to wearing armor; heavy metal equipment would hinder their agility for climbing and jumping in the forest.
Guilliman nodded, then pointed to the ripples spreading across the distant lake and said softly:
"You probably haven't crossed the lake in a while."
"It seems the lake isn't very safe right now. I don't know if it's water hags or Drowners. Put on this half-plate armor; it will be safer."
The dryad sister's personality was very gentle, the type the witcher liked.
She obediently put on the half-plate armor.
Because of Guilliman's warning, a vigilant expression appeared in Buir's eyes, no longer as relaxed and carefree as before.
The two boarded the wooden boat and rowed towards a tiny island in the distance, no bigger than a sesame seed.
At a distance of about a thousand meters from the shore, the creatures lurking in the lake seemed like flies attracted to prey, swimming from all directions, attempting to surround the small boat.
Seeing this, Guilliman no longer harbored any illusions. He took out a sky-blue gem, put it in his mouth, and cast a strong Quen Sign on himself. Then he said to the dryad sister:
"Buir, you keep rowing. Don't worry about me."
"I'll keep up with you."
The dryad maiden showed a worried expression but still nodded, following the witcher's instructions and carrying out her command.
Upon entering the water, the cold lake water immediately soaked his high-grade dragon leather armor, invigorating him.
It was early spring, and in a northern environment, the lake water temperature was likely only single digits. If an ordinary person fell into such water, they would probably catch a cold.
However, the Water Elemental Gem that Francesca sold him was truly effective. Not only did it allow him to breathe freely, just as on land,
but the magic bestowed by the Water Elemental Gem also increased his swimming speed by one or two times. Aside from some resistance and buoyancy interference from the lake water, his agility was only slightly reduced.
Guilliman grabbed the bottom of the boat with one hand, using the boat's propulsion to pull him forward, while looking around to observe the monsters that were surrounding him.
These were a group of humanoid monsters with green scales, ugly heads like fat fish, and sharp bone-ground pitchforks or spears in their hands. Their upper bodies resembled fish, and their lower bodies had two legs.
They were only half the size of an adult human, numbering twenty to thirty, and were the evil Drowners he had investigated before.
Seeing these weaklings, the witcher curled his lip in disdain and didn't hold back. He first directly took out a crossbow with a loaded string from his storage space and, with almost one shot per Drowner, quickly killed six approaching Drowners.
He then turned around, looked at five Drowners approaching from another direction, and suddenly extended his palm. A beehive bomb, only three or four seconds from exploding, appeared in front of him.
In a moment, an Aard Sign blasted out, and the surging water directly pushed the beehive bomb more than ten meters, causing it to land next to those Drowners, then explode with a roar.
The underwater explosion had no obvious flames, but under the pull of the explosive force, the cold lake water churned wildly like a meat grinder, directly tearing the surrounding Drowners to pieces, their bodies separated.
Even at a greater distance, not affected by the pulling force of the explosion's center, Drowners, which were very sensitive to water currents, would be directly shocked to death by the water's vibrations.
Interestingly, the Drowners' body density was probably less than water. These Drowners killed by explosions and crossbow bolts would not sink to the bottom of the lake but instead float to the surface, saving the witcher a lot of trouble.
Buir, who had been rowing on the lake, felt uneasy, watching the Drowner corpses continuously float up around the small boat, and the booming explosions in the lake, like the roars of an underwater beast.
This inexperienced dryad maiden couldn't help but show expressions of shock and admiration.
In just about fifteen minutes, nearly fifty shattered corpses floated around the small boat.
The witcher, completely unharmed, swam up from the lake with a joyful expression, like an old farmer harvesting leeks, and made a strange hand sign.
Subsequently, more than fifty specks of light floated out from those corpses, like a rain of light, quickly pouring into the witcher's body.
Absorbed a faint soul, Soul Power +2.
Absorbed a faint soul, Soul Power +2.
Absorbed a faint soul, Soul Power +2... More than fifty continuous prompts made Guilliman's mood turn to pleasant surprise.
He hadn't expected these idiotic Drowners, whose strength was clearly inferior to that of slightly stronger water hags, to provide twice the Soul Power of water hags.
Was it because they were an intelligent race?
But Drowners' souls could also be directly absorbed like monster souls, and he didn't feel any severe negative emotions.
Was it because they were sufficiently idiotic, with empty heads?
Guilliman casually put a dozen Drowner corpses into his storage space and then quickly boarded the wooden boat.
This was truly an unexpected gain; the Soul Power deficit seemed to be resolved again.
He thought of how most of the planet's surface was covered by oceans, and how many monsters like Drowners were hidden within those oceans.