Witcher's Atelier

Chapter 509 The Three Witches and Ilerith



Walking down through the damp and cold cave, smelling the pungent smell of rotten fish and strong spices, Angouleme, Geralt and Ciri saw a strange vast space near the bottom of the tree roots.

An unknown bright red liquid flowed on the ground, and many unknown pieces of thin meat were stuck to the surrounding earth walls. Rather than a cave at the root of the oak tree, it was more like the stomach of some carnivorous creature.

And looking from a distance in the center, there were three young women, stewing food in a big pot. If nothing unexpected happened, they should be the so-called "three witches" or "good ladies".

However, what surprised Angouleme was that they looked completely different from what Victor had told them in advance. Not only were they not disgusting monsters, but on the contrary, the three ladies wore rose garlands on their heads, their soft hair was shawled, their bodies were plump and straight, and they were only simply painted with paint, which was very attractive for reproduction.

The only small problem: the bright and wet paint on their bodies was all ochre-red bloodstains upon closer inspection...

Stirring the big pot of food, the blonde in the middle smiled sweetly and looked at her sisters, "Dear, how does it taste?"

The red-haired girl on the left threw the sticky round object in her arms into the pot and responded in a naive tone, "It's good to eat raw, but it's better to cook it."

And next to her, "It's delicious, really delicious." The last millet-haired girl scooped a ladle to taste it, the pudding on her chest shook violently, and the corners of her mouth were stained with bright red sauce.

What are they cooking?

Using the extraordinary five senses to spy and listen, Angouleme looked into the pot curiously, and the result was quite discordant. It was a bloody stew of fresh meat. Just based on the number of floating **, it was at least six servings of fresh meat.

Although she had a premonition, she still felt the urge to vomit. Geralt pressed his hand on the hilt of the sword, and it was obviously vivid, but neither of them could compare to Ciri who was as close as the sword and the shoes.

"Swift". "The Lion Cub of Cintra" jumped down directly from a height and stood in front of the three witches, firmly attracting their attention.

The moment they saw Ciri, the three old witches stopped what they were doing and stepped forward to confront the girl with weapons.

As they walked, black smoke filled the air, and the original beauty's appearance also changed, becoming a witch's appearance.

The blonde woman with a wreath on her head turned into a super fat woman with a soup ladle, a height of six feet and a waist of six feet, making people immediately know that she is the "cooker".

The red-haired and innocent woman turned into a skinny appearance, with a high crown on her head, and her left eye turned into a hollow pustule, with flies flying in and out. She was wearing a tapestry woven with villagers' hair and baby hair, and she was the "weaver" who weaved fate.

The last giant woman, with two lumps of breasts hanging down to her waist, covered her head with a dark and dirty robe. The only other recognizable features were the long string of ears around her waist and the baby's hands and feet.

No doubt - "Whispering Woman".

The three of them were so ferocious in their fighting form! ?

Angouleme couldn't help but take a breath of cold air, and felt her stomach acid surge up.

She sincerely repented at this moment, she shouldn't have drunk so much wine just now. Victor didn't lie this time, everything he said was true, these three old witches were really ugly enough to commit crimes against humanity.

And even if we ignore their appearance, just based on that pot of dark food, they were also extremely evil criminals against humanity...

The super fat woman swayed her bloated body, "Welcome, son of the elder's blood."

"We all know you will come back, bad girl." The Whispering Woman laughed.

The fly-headed Weaver Woman licked her fingers. "Your sweet taste is still on our tongues."

"Enough!" Ciri seemed to be disgusted enough and had no interest in talking to them. She pulled out Givalle and strode towards the three old witches.

Noticing Geralt landing on the platform without hesitation, "Quinn!" Angouleme opened his shield and jumped down.

Indeed, demon slayer! Today!

...

On the other side, at the top of the mountain, under the oak tree of the Ring of Velen, Victor also successfully met the target of this trip - the leader of the Wild Hunt, Ileris.

He was sitting in a spacious recliner, holding a glass of fine wine, indulging in wine and sex as Ciri described. There were more than a dozen scantily clad female night demons around him drinking, flirting and "fighting each other".

Hiss! One against ten, and the opponent is a creature like a succubus, too brave! ?

But interestingly, as reported by the Fairy Mother, Ileris was now dressed neatly, wearing a skeleton armor forged from black steel, with a huge shield and hammer within reach, leaving no chance for others to attack him.

Seeing the witcher appear, "Oh~ It's incredible, you are not dead..." He waved his hand to let the female night demon beside him leave.

Victor shrugged his shoulders, "It's normal that I am not dead. You are the one who makes me feel incredible. There are more than a dozen beauties around you, but you actually watched them fight each other without participating. Could it be... you are no longer able to do it?"

"Pah!" Crushing the wine glass, Ileris looked arrogant and looked up and down at the witcher.

He wore black light leather armor and carried two half-hand swords on his back, one was a silver sword and the other was a steel sword. There were four knife scars on his leisurely and cheerful face. He looked sunny and bright, without any shadow of fear.

Recalling the conflict more than half a month ago, and witnessing the duel between Victor and the King of the Wild Hunt: This young man is indeed a very interesting opponent, with great fighting spirit and patience, and he used many tricks to repel Eredin.

If I had met him first, it might have been a great battle, but unfortunately, he had become disabled under the attack of me and Nisrila that day.

"Is your right hand now... a prosthesis?

Forget it, it doesn't matter anyway. Since you are here, Ciri must be here too, you are always together, right?"

"Yes, she is also in Bald Mountain."

"Where is she now?"

Victor blinked, "It doesn't matter, anyway, you are going to die soon."

"Arrogant! Who do you think you are talking to? Without the magic circle arranged in advance, your tricks are useless here, and--"

Before he finished speaking, the friction sound of armor "click~click~click~" came from the cave next to him.

Another sturdy Wild Hunt appeared, wearing clothes and armor as he walked, obviously just finished some intense aerobic exercise.

Judging from the giant axe that was equivalent to identification, the person who came was another legion leader of the Wild Hunt - Nisrilla.

Patting his breastplate arrogantly, he felt very good, "Dear little guy, I hope you can hold on longer today. I will cut off your limbs first, let you crawl on the ground in pain, and then cut off your head!"

Thanks to the arrangement of fate, tonight, not only the wine-indulging Ileris came to Bald Mountain to attend the witch night party, but also the brave and tenacious himself. The two of them took turns to enjoy themselves to ensure that they would not be attacked.

Under normal circumstances, there is no real meaning to do this, but today, cautious habits are rewarded with rich rewards.

Once again, he will join hands with Ileris to kill this overconfident maggot, and then catch Ciri, the dream of Eredin!

The winter wind blew, and the atmosphere of impending storm was felt. The expectant female night demons left one after another, thinking that there would be newcomers to join the carnival.

Patting the armrest of the chair, Ileris stood up suddenly and put on the forged steel helmet, "Poor little devil, you fought well in the battle in the dilapidated fortress, I hope you can please both of us today.

Come on! Although the result will not change."

After saying that, he held the shield in his left hand, waved the long-handled heavy hammer in his right hand, and strode towards Victor.

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