The Divine Hunter

At noon the next day, they reached the forest of giant trees.

It is a forest mostly surrounded by oak, yew and butternut trees.

These trees have grown for hundreds of thousands of years, each of which has to be hugged by several people, and the height is even more difficult to measure-their roots that were originally buried in the ground are meandering and powerfully breaking the ground, and the parts that grow on the ground are longer than The four have higher heads.

Facing the woods, Brian knelt to the ground and bowed his head reverently.

Geralt's face was in awe, and along the way, Ciri was feeling inexplicable pressure as cheerful and lively as a bird, and the expression on her little face was solemn and serious.

And Roy stared at the thickest one among them, and Dark Gold's pupils shrank.

Maokai

age:? (lack of perception)

Identity: Sacred oak tree (the old oak tree of Brock Leon, has been worshipped by tree spirits for hundreds of years, bathed in faith, produced wisdom, and became a spirit of nature. It shares the power of manipulating nature with some tree spirits, and together Protect the Brock Leon Forest that nurtures them.)

Just when Roy was observing.

Two bumps appeared in the middle of the tree's wrinkled bark, the size of a fist, like the upper and lower eyelids of a person - slowly opening, revealing a pair of vicissitudes and deep eyes.

At the same time, a circle of green light rippled from the roots of the tree, which was taller than a person, and gradually rose, climbing along the trunk to the canopy.

Like a circle of vines connected end to end.

This surging green is faith.

It feels like a witcher, like the Temple of Meritelli facing the goddess statue, and the altar of Black Tern Island facing Dagon.

But unlike Meritelli's benevolence and tolerance, nor Dagon's tyranny and cruelty, it contains the unique vitality of Brock Leon.

Roy took a deep breath of the fragrant greenery and glanced at the three people around him. Whether it was Geralt, Ciri, or Brian, they didn't notice the slightest difference.

But the green light accumulated more and more, until at a certain moment, it burst into the canopy of the tree, and it sprinkled from the heights little by little, like a continuous spring rain.

What did Ciri feel?

Closing his eyes, he hummed comfortably from his small nose.

It can be seen with the naked eye that her face, hands, boots... The dust and dirt left by her journey seemed to be washed with clean water. In an instant, her exhaustion disappeared, and her complexion became rosy and healthy.

"Little guy, what happened to you just now?" Geralt noticed her abnormal change, and his dark cat pupils revealed a doubt, and Ms. Dryad and Roy were also very curious.

"Didn't you hear? This big oak tree... Maokai, greeting its mates," Ciri stared at the forest of giant trees with her green eyes, and waved her little hand lightly at him, "Welcome to Du En Canal, I'm welcome to join."

"The spirit of nature sensed the blood of the ancients and sent a greeting." Roy shook his head again if he realized something, "but she is destined not to belong to the forest."

Roy, who already knew the ending, was not worried.

But Geralt's face turned pale.

...

After kneeling, Brian led the three to speed up, passed through the forest of giant trees, walked for about an hour, and walked into a damp canyon surrounded by a beech forest.

Brian suddenly stopped and said to the two witchers, "Gwenblade, Roy, come here," she took off the scarves around her and Ciri's necks.

"I have to cover your eyes, that's the rule."

"Understood." The white wolf who came here once was extremely obedient.

And Roy spread his hands, and did not object to this self-protection behavior, although blindfolded had no effect on him who had the ability to perceive.

"I'll take you away, hold my hand."

Brian's warm hands grasped the young witcher, probably because she has some elf blood, she is more willing to approach the young witcher.

Seeing this, Ciri stomped her feet, and reluctantly grabbed Geralt's rough and thick palm,

"Stinky bastard, now you're blind, be honest with me!"

"Then I'll take your time! Little girl, do you know why she doesn't blindfold you?"

"Because we are all girls," Ciri's green eyes rolled, and she asked suddenly, "By the way, what does Gwenblade mean?"

"The white wolf in the ancient language, the dryads call me that."

"White wolf, witcher white wolf..." There was a hint of surprise on Ciri's face - wasn't that the guy who helped her mother Pavetta and father Downey?

A good feeling arose spontaneously, and Ciri couldn't help clenching Geralt's big hand.

"Watch out for the roots! Are they calling you that because of your grey hair?"

"Because of fate."

"What's the meaning?"

"You will know later... ouch!"

"I said, let you be careful with your feet, and walk with me attentively."

"Be serious with me too! I don't want to be lame before I reach my destination."

Roy pricked up his ears to listen to the noise behind him, and the corners of his mouth curved. He looked straight ahead again, and through the scarf that covered his eyes, he felt that the terrain was getting lower and lower, and the fog around him was getting thicker and thicker.

"Finally, it's almost the end of the journey."

...

"Take off the blindfold."

The thick fog over everyone's knees,

"Welcome to Doon Canal, Land of the Oaks, Heart of Brock Leon."

Roy took off his blindfold, and with the sound of the water pattering in his ears, a sinkhole appeared in front of him.

The top of them is the vast and verdant canopy, and the waterfall-like water curtain connects from top to bottom into a transparent curtain. Wet mud and rocks beneath our feet, and intermittent fissures of hot springs spewing water outwards, allowing mist and steam to rise and fill the smoke.

The nose was full of fresh plant aromas. For a while, Roy only felt that he was in a fairyland in a fairy tale.

Indeed, this place is like a fairyland, and the pendant between the necks of the two witchers is also vibrating mischievously, witnessing the strong magic power that is visible to the naked eye.

"Witcher, follow by yourself! As for you, give me your hand!" Brian took Ciri's little hand without a doubt.

"Wow... Roy, Geralt, it's so beautiful here!"

Ciri's eyes widened, and she slapped the surrounding fog and steam with one hand. The two witchers looked at each other, and both saw worry in each other's eyes.

They passed through the water curtain and walked forward for a further distance. Following a sharp and loud whistle, after a while, a green bark coat, a slender black-haired elf, stepped on the thick tree roots entrenched in the sinkhole, graceful like a The cat came over.

According to the witcher's observation, she is still a warlock, mastering the manipulation of vines and healing spells.

Her gaze swept across the four of them, especially the tall white wolf who turned around lazily.

"Ess' ae 'n sidh?"

She laughed, revealing her white teeth, and her smile was cute and charming. Only then did Geralt realize that the dryad was looking at himself from head to toe, and suddenly lost his composure, and his stupid face became more and more stiff.

Roy snickered while watching.

Geralt was an old man with gray hair, and he was actually shy in front of women.

Is it precisely because of this shy character that women are so attracted to it?

Then he was stunned, only to hear the lovely black-haired dryad speak to the white wolf,

“Bloede caerm! Aen’ne caenn’ wedd vort! T’ess foile!”

These words were spoken quickly and urgently. In Geralt's Brockleon dialect, he didn't understand the meaning for a while, but Roy understood.

"She's complimenting you on being strong, and she's showing that she's interested in you!"

After Roy finished explaining, the black-haired dryad giggled and left, and the young man was convinced for a while. He finally understood why Geralt became a pile driver. The issue is--

"Geralt is strong, but the dryad doesn't even look at his face?"

...

"Look!" Little cute Ciri's exclamation attracted Roy's attention, "The house here is so interesting!"

Dun Canal actually "grew" out from the bottom of the sinkhole. Those "fun houses" were like huge coconuts, hanging heavily on the tree trunks, and some were even placed directly on the top of the tree. Roy was very Doubt it will fall off suddenly.

"Roy, Geralt," Ciri whispered, "the houses are moving! They're alive!"

"They're made of living trees," Geralt said, recovering from a slight embarrassment. "Dads don't use human tools to build houses, but they use magic to control the movement of branches and build a natural shelter. "

"It's so cute," Ciri said with little stars in her eyes, "Roy, do you think I'll get a house like this when I go back to Sintra?"

"Don't be envious, you will be able to own your own house soon." Brian said, standing in front of a huge tree house,

"Come in, three, Lady Esina is waiting for you. Va faill!"

"What's the meaning?"

"Meaning goodbye."

"Ah? Goodbye, Brian!"

The three walked into the tree house, and the top of the tree house filtered the light, making the walls colorful like a rainbow.

"Geralt!"

"Facenet! Hell, you're still alive, and I knew that dryad wouldn't leave you!"

Governor Fresnet had bandages on his body, and the trauma was much better, but his legs and feet were still inconvenient. He sat up from the tree bed excitedly, and then he saw a timid little boy hiding behind the two witchers. The girl suddenly stared at a fierce light.

"It's you, little bastard!"

"not me!"

"It's you, so you're here!" Freixette coughed excitedly, spitting out a mouthful of pink spit,

"Princess Sirella, you little bastard, do you know that you sacrificed a lot of people to find you!? I really should have broken your legs in place of His Highness Calanthe!"

After struggling between life and death, Freixette was less in awe of the princess.

Ciri pouted, wrinkled her nose again, and raised her chin proudly, "I'm a princess, if you dare to beat me, grandma will chop off your head!"

"If she wants to cut, let her come!" Freixette waved his hand nonchalantly. "Anyway, the mission has failed, and everyone is almost dead. The little maid on the return journey should also spread the news of your disappearance. You know. Does that mean anything?"

Ciri still held her head proudly,

"You sabotaged your grandmother's plan!" Freixette spit splattered and looked indignant, "If this incident occurs, the alliance between Wieden and Sintra will definitely fail! Next year, no, at most In the next year, your grandmother will lead Sintra alone to resist Nilfgaard's army, do you think they can stop it?"

"So, what you have done is causing your country to perish!"

"No way, you lied!" Ciri retorted weakly, but her face was instantly white, and the joy of first coming to your land was gone.

"Okay, don't scare her!"

Roy sighed, "The fate of the kingdom shouldn't rest on a girl's shoulders, it's not fair to her."

Besides, even with Wieden, Sintra couldn't stop it.

Roy already knew the fate of the Sintra Kingdom. Unless all the four northern countries come to support, the Nilfgaard Empire will be unstoppable!

But again this is impossible.

"Don't be angry, the wound should open again." Geralt made a timely sound to divert the Governor's attention.

Freixette then turned to him and began to complain, such as what the dryad had forced into his throat with something disgusting, slippery, and stinky, such as their past, and how Geralt had relieved him of it. The curse of becoming a bird.

Ciri listened with interest, and quickly forgot her previous fears.

However, after a while, Brian went back and forth, entered the tree house,

Freixette's face turned pale and his lips trembled, "No, please, don't put those things in my mouth, I tell you no way! Geralt, that witcher, cover me, come on! "

Brian just glanced at him disdainfully like an idiot, then turned to the little girl hiding behind the witcher,

"Come here, poor little fellow, it's time to leave."

"Leave? Where to go?" Ciri looked alert and grabbed the hands of the two witchers, "I'm not leaving! I want to be with them!"

"Go ahead," Geralt forced a wry smile, "she'll take you on a tour of Doon Canal, more interesting than the experience just now."

At this time, Ciri understood, lowered her head and whispered, "Brian didn't cover my eyes, but you all did. They don't want you to remember the way you came here. That is to say—"

There was a cry in Ciri's voice, and with her big green eyes, she looked at the witcher for help, "Can I never get out of here?"

At this time, Brian quietly approached, pulled the little girl into his arms from behind, and pulled her away from the witcher's palm like a vine. The little girl was in the air, still stubbornly reaching out to the witcher .

Roy couldn't ignore those trusting eyes, so he grabbed Ciri's little white hand again, and was about to say a few words of comfort when a voice suddenly came from behind,

"No one can escape fate—"

Everyone turned back together and looked in the direction of the voice. The voice was low and full, and it contained irresistible magic.

This voice represents the supreme authority of Brock Leon.

It cannot be refuted or questioned.

Brian hugged Ciri and bowed in a salute, Geralt knelt down, and Faisnes fell to the ground.

And Roy bent slightly towards him,

"Ms. Esina..."

The supreme ruler of Brock Leon, I do not know when, appeared in the hall of the tree house.