When the demon hunters came out, Dandrion and Ciri, they saw Haxel, who was still smiling but didn't look friendly.

and Stewart, who had bandages on his legs, but still held on to his armor, leading a group of more than fifty soldiers.

Each of these soldiers was wounded.

But now, the soldiers who were fighting side by side at dusk faintly put their hands on the grips of their respective weapons.

"What does that mean?"

Lan stood in front and asked calmly.

Behind him, Ciri was held in Geralt's arms. The white wolf pressed his head to prevent her from looking at it more.

"What do you mean?" As if hearing a big joke, Haxel jerked up the steel scepter and smashed it to the ground!

"Bang."

"That means you're not a Polton at all! You are Lanne of Sintra! Right?! ”

A loud announcement is like dropping a bomb on a calm lake!

The camp, which was originally peaceful and joyful, suddenly gathered many people in this direction.

"Rann of Sintra. Is it [Hunter]?! ”

"It's the hero who killed the Nilfgaard lackey!"

Lan En saw the little girl who had just come to deliver the flowers, her eyes shining brightly.

Ranne's 'trial' of Stesa has apparently spread far and wide in this country that guards against Nilfgaard.

So much so that the little girl couldn't believe that she had already sent flowers to the idol in her heart.

The exclamations around were one after another, mostly positive emotions.

But the next moment .

"Ahh Hero!? Haxel reread the word in a sarcastic tone.

His tone was evident in a tone that quieted the voices around him.

"We in Sintra see him as a hero, but did this 'hero' do anything when we were suffering?"

"It seems that he did not appear on the battlefield against the Nilfgaards, nor in the city of Sintra!"

"Yes, he's been helping us a lot lately. But wasn't the source of our miserable life still defeated by the Nilfgaards? Where was he then? If the legendary power of one hundred appears on the battlefield, it must make a big difference in the battle situation, right? ”

At this moment, all the sounds around him gradually disappeared.

People looked at each other blankly, and the wind of public opinion made them dizzy.

"And what's more important, guys?"

Haxel opened his arms and circled around.

"The reputation of [Lord Hunter] is not only big with us, but also not big in the eyes of the people of Nilfgaard?!"

"Think about it, ladies and gentlemen!"

"Will the enemy abandon the pursuit of a highly valuable target? We were just a bunch of miserable people who wanted to make a living, and the Nilfgaard people didn't really care if we ran or not, and if we didn't meet us, we didn't exist. ”

"But what if he's with us?"

"Look at his performance in that battle at dusk, guys! That's a lot of power! The people of Nilfgaard had already recognized him. Yes, we're less than a day's walk from the border, but just in case! ”

"What if the Nilfgaard sent a large force of cavalry to hunt him down?! Are we also unlucky? ”

The voices around them changed from silence to whispering, like a swarm of bees hovering over the place.

The eyes of the refugees have also changed from cheerful at the beginning to frightened and terrifying. and even suspicion.

Lane was eager to say something.

But when he saw it, the little girl who gave them flowers opened her eyes wide and wanted to say something. But beside her, a woman covered her mouth.

The hands were cracked black and red, black was dirty skin, and red was the flesh inside the skin when it was cracked. This look is the hands of a pair of toiling hands.

The woman looked at the witchers in horror.

So Lan En didn't want to talk about it.

"So." Haxel's voice was low, like a hook about to hook out the whispers of people's hearts.

"What do we have to do to live without being implicated?"

There was another whisper like a bee's wings, and tension, anxiety, and fear spread like a plague in the sound.

Eventually, a tentative, cowering voice said, "Let, let him go?" ”

The sound was very small at first, but it suddenly caught the attention of the three demon hunters with keen hearing.

They jerked over there.

But in this case, any action could turn into a spark that detonates a powder keg.

It's already close to the border, so there shouldn't be any danger. They're still witchers, and nothing will happen to them, will they?

Maybe it would be easier not to be with us?

Almost all of these refugees, who have struggled to survive in the war, have survived until now for this opportunity.

And now, the witcher. Or rather, Lan En has become a security hazard for them to cross the border.

So, with the tacit support of Hackso, under the inertial thinking that the law does not blame the public.

'Let him go' is getting louder.

Ciri and Dandrien's faces flushed with anger, and Gerd and Geralt, who were beside them, held them back.

Lan En stepped forward slowly, his body with an incomparably oppressive feeling, and the sound around him automatically subsided just by moving.

He was close to Hacksol and looked down at him.

"So, that's what you want me to do?"

Haxso still smiled: "Yes, in order for more people not to be hunted down, and also to let the witchers get rid of our drag and be able to act quickly." Let's go our separate ways, Lanne. ”

After a brief and suppressed silence, Lan En nodded, "If this is what you want, then I will accept it." Finally, I sincerely hope that you will be able to get out of Sintra smoothly. ”

I don't know if it's an illusion, Lan En felt Haxel's face twitch slightly, but the smiling eyes narrowed even harder, making it impossible to see his eyes.

"Thank you. Thank you for your blessings, Lanne. Set out now, and for the sake of peace of mind for all of us, I will have sixty warriors follow you until you are far enough. ”

Lane turned away, and Gerd and Geralt looked around deeply, many bowing their heads in the eye with them.

Ciri's eyes flushed as she looked at Haxor, who was still smiling, and spat on the ground, following Geralt.

And Dandrien, the poet, even though he was almost crushed to death by the crowd in the battle at dusk, did not show his present expression.

He gritted his teeth, his face stiff and disdainful.

"Ahh Sintra! A kingdom of warriors and warriors. I've really seen what 'courage' looks like today. ”

After saying that, he picked up his lute and followed the back of the witcher.

Hacksol's smiling face never seemed to change.

He nodded at the sixty warriors around him who seemed to be used to drive away the witchers.

"Go ahead."

(End of chapter)