Chapter 79: The Golden Dragon

An hour later, in the dining room of Wayne's villa.

As a steaming bowl of beef soup was brought out from the kitchen, Wayne looked at the three people who were already restless from the aroma on the table, revealed a slightly smug smile, and said:

"Everyone, please don't be formal. Come and taste my cooking."

Borch laughed, handed a bottle of wine worth three hundred orens to Wayne, then picked up another bottle, poured himself a glass, reached out to the table, picked up a golden, crispy, deep-fried chicken wing coated in flour, and impatiently stuffed it into his mouth.

After chewing a few times with a crunching sound, he couldn't help but exhale a puff of hot air, gave Wayne a thumbs-up, and praised:

"This is truly delicious, Mr. Wayne. I have never eaten chicken prepared this way before."

"Crispy, tender, and it melts in the mouth. Is this a new dish you invented?"

"Yes, this dish is called fried chicken. It can be considered my exclusive invention."

Wayne didn't explain too much, but instead used a fork to pick up a piece of medium-rare steak, put it in his mouth, chewed slowly, and said with a smile: "It's embarrassing to say, but as a witcher, I actually have a special talent for cooking. Everyone who has eaten my food has nothing but praise for my skills."

"Perhaps when I am old and can no longer fight monsters, I can open a restaurant myself. It would definitely be the most successful one."

Borch laughed, quite appreciative of Wayne's humorous attitude.

He picked up a roasted lamb leg from the table again, and while eating with great relish, began to recount various interesting things he had encountered in other Northern Kingdoms.

Most of them were absurd stories caused by the foolish ideas of gluttonous nobles or ignorant peasants.

Borch was a good storyteller, and Wayne listened with great interest, while also feeling a sense of emotion in his heart: there were truly too many bizarre things in this world; there was nothing they couldn't do, only things you couldn't imagine.

He turned his head and saw the two beautiful Zerrikanian maidens sitting on both sides with regretful expressions, only taking small tastes of each dish on the table, looking like they wanted to eat but didn't dare. He couldn't help but chuckle.

Wayne guessed that they were probably afraid of ruining their figures by eating too much, so he smiled and passed them two plates of cold river delicacies made from fresh fish and shrimp caught from the shores of Lake Wyzima.

He told the maidens that this food wouldn't make them gain weight, letting them eat to their hearts' content.

The two Zerrikanian maidens smiled, took the food, and began to eat in small bites. The sour, sweet, and fresh taste made the two girls exclaim in delight, unable to stop.

Looking at the beautiful Zerrikanian maidens, Wayne suddenly thought that Borch, this golden dragon, came from the Zerrikania Kingdom and was revered as a god by the local residents, constantly receiving the offerings and faith of the people.

These two maidens were the chosen exclusive guards responsible for protecting the golden dragon's safety, and could almost be considered Borch's fanatics.

In the Korath Desert, where Zerrikania is located, there exists a branch of witchers that many Northern witchers know little about: the School of the Manticore.

Wayne was also very interested in this branch of witchers, so he spoke up and asked Borch:

"Mr. Borch, you have lived in Zerrikania. Do you know anything about the local Manticore School witchers?"

Borch paused upon hearing this, considered for a dozen seconds, then picked up the wine on the side, moistened his throat, and said: "Indeed, I have heard rumors about this school. They once served the Zerrikanian royal family and were the exclusive guards for royal members and their envoys, highly respected and trusted by the rulers."

"However, a hundred years ago, during an escort mission, they were all deployed but encountered an attack by a powerful fire elemental, a formidable monster twenty meters tall."

"In the end, their main members were decimated, the mission failed, and they also lost the trust of the royal family."

"Nowadays, the entire Manticore School of witchers has declined. I once searched for them but found no trace of them."

"I heard that these witchers' main job now is to serve as guards for passing merchant caravans, and they rarely hunt other monsters anymore."

Wayne nodded with some regret. In fact, the game also had some introductions to these witchers; in Toussaint, there were even Grandmaster-level diagrams for the Manticore School set, coming from a school member named Merten.

And this school seemed to be very good at using alchemical items and had special research into alchemy. However, since they still had members alive, perhaps there would be a chance to meet them in the future. After answering Wayne's question about the Manticore School, Borch also became interested and suddenly asked with great interest: "I heard that Northern witchers work by accepting contracts to kill monsters and save other villagers."

"Mr. Wayne, I wonder if you would also travel thousands of miles to the other end of the world to kill a monster for a high reward?"

Wayne shook his head with a smile upon hearing this and said to Borch: "Mr. Borch, you view the profession of a witcher too specially."

"Although we possess power greater than ordinary people, in the end, we are just a group of ordinary people. There are good people and bad people, those who stick to principles, and those who stop at nothing."

"Moreover, you might not know that most witchers do not become witchers out of their own free will."

"Most of us are orphans with no one to support us, or children abandoned by their parents due to accidental circumstances."

"It is only because we want to continue living that we are forced to accept training and forced to become witchers."

"And after becoming a witcher, not only do we have to face those dangerous and disgusting monsters every day, but we also have to suffer the bullying of those foolish peasants and despicable nobles. This is not a pleasant thing."

"If there were no high rewards, we wouldn't even have the money to repair our armor and equipment, no money to buy food and fodder for our mounts, and no money to go to brothels to vent the loneliness and pressure accumulated deep in our hearts."

"Just like ordinary people chasing wealth, most witchers, in order to live a better life, would be willing to travel thousands of miles to the other end of the world to kill a monster for a large reward!"

"As long as the reward is high enough."

Speaking of this, Wayne shrugged, signaled Borch to look at the luxuriously decorated villa around them, and then said self-deprecatingly: "Of course, I am talking about most witchers. I am a bit different from ordinary witchers. I am not short of money now, and I won't do things I don't like for just a little bit of money."

"But if that reward can truly move me, or if the other party is a person worth helping, I don't mind helping them with a small favor."

Borch was a bit surprised to hear this, not expecting the other party to be so frank in front of him, stating his thoughts without any avoidance.

Instead of being evasive like ordinary people, or using sophistry to beautify his own behavior.

Borch thought for a moment, then suddenly asked again:

"What if someone offers a high price for you to deal with a dragon? This dragon destroyed a village, oh no! I can't say it like that."

He paused, reorganized his language, and said:

"This dragon hasn't done anything yet, but you know, in legends, dragons are fierce and vicious monsters. They spew fire, destroy villages, steal treasures, kidnap virgins, and kill humans."

"And a dragon slayer is often a supreme honor. It will bring you wealth, prestige, and status."

"Mr. Wayne, if such a dragon existed, wouldn't you want to add the honor of a dragon slayer to your life?"

Listening to Borch say these words, Wayne, who already understood his true identity, secretly laughed in his heart. A golden dragon trying to persuade a witcher to slay a dragon—what an interesting thing.

However, Wayne still considered it seriously, and then, under Borch's gaze, replied:

"Mr. Borch, I am not a narrow-minded racist, nor am I human. I am a half-elf. For intelligent beings, I will only kill those evil monsters that will harm others."

"As for those kind intelligent beings who will not harm others, I am even willing to become friends with them."

"If what you are talking about is a wicked dragon that brings disaster to the people, I don't mind adding the title of dragon slayer to myself."

"If what you are talking about is a kind dragon, an intelligent race willing to communicate with me, I will not take the initiative to harm it, and I am even willing to accept its commission to protect it."

(End of chapter)