The Witcher: Grinding Experience Starting as a Wolf School Witcher

Chapter 68 "The Squirrel Party"

"when!"

After a brief contact, the small figure quickly retreated.

He squinted and spat on the ground.

"Witcher, how did you figure me out?"

Arwen cracked his knuckles. "Ha, I don't recall any proper dwarves having the habit of braiding their beards."

The dwarf, Gordon, gripped the axe handle tightly with both hands. "So that's how it is..."

He let out a strange cry, and eight figures emerged from the pine forest.

They were wearing leather armor, and five of them looked very similar to Glenn; they were dwarves.

"Hey, Glenn, we're here to help you!"

The dwarves shouted and laughed wildly.

The other two were tall and slender, carrying long bows and arrows. They wore green hats with a brightly colored feather stuck in the side of their heads, and had a pair of sharp ears beneath their green hair.

Elf.

Alwin glanced at it, and a word already appeared in his mind.

The Squirrel Party is an organization comprised of non-human species.

Their aim is to drive out humanity, resorting to any means necessary, in order to reclaim their former territory.

Also, he had seen an article in The Witcher.

The text states that the dwarves of Mahakam do not braid their beards, except for those who have joined the Squirrel Party, who use this as a distinguishing feature.

Now it seems that this combination of elves and dwarves is already indicating that the Scoia'tael party is beginning to take shape.

The archer Vaughn's face contorted with rage as he raised an arrow to fire, but the elf easily dodged it.

Mia disappeared into the bushes, and another elf quickly gave chase.

For Alwin, the situation was very passive.

The dwarf, Gren, licked his thick lips, raised his forehead, and looked at him with disdain.

"To be honest, I don't want to be your opponent."

"Think about how they used to address you?"

"A freak? A damn inhuman?"

"Now listen to their terrified screams again, how wonderful it is."

"Put down your sword. We should be friends, shouldn't we?"

Alwin's gaze was icy, his right hand held out horizontally, his palm loose.

A greedy smile appeared in Gren's eyes. "That's right, eight to three, no, it'll be eight to one soon. My mother once told me that a good child is one who behaves well."

"A Witcher who has just slain a pterodactyl needs a good rest."

"Ha, you're right..."

The Witcher loosened his fingers, letting the silver sword fall.

Before the silver sword could fall to the ground, the dwarf Gren swooped down, his two-handed axe cleaving fiercely through the air with a sharp, piercing sound.

Arwen reached over his shoulder, gripped the hilt of the sword tightly in his palm, and swung the greatsword out.

Swords clashed, sparks flew.

Both of their arm muscles bulged out like coiled dragons.

The powerful sword blade crushed the sharp energy unleashed by the two-handed axe.

The heavy force shook the dwarf's arms, forcing him to take a few steps back before regaining his balance.

Alwin looked down at the other person with cat-like eyes, his voice icy.

"But I still have the strength to kill you."

With a forceful downward press of his arms, the dwarf pushed himself back violently.

His eyes widened in astonishment.

As a race of warriors, powerful muscle strength is an innate talent they possess.

Even a demon hunter carrying a greatsword would no longer take the other person seriously after seeing their youthful face.

As the dwarf Gren watched Alwin approach, his expression gradually darkened, and he spat.

"Damn freak!"

Alwin lowered his gaze slightly, and heard footsteps behind him.

As the dwarf Gren's axe blade drew closer, he raised his sword to parry, then turned and slammed his left hand down.

"Get out of here!"

A fan-shaped impact burst forth.

The 'Squirrel Party' dwarf who had sneaked up behind him was blasted to the ground.

Arwen took a step forward, his [Giant Bloodline] energy surging, and swung the entire greatsword with one hand.

His vertical pupils were ferocious, and his aura was terrifying.

"Titus, danger!"

The dwarf, Gren, shouted.

But the raised giant blade, like the Sword of Damocles, swung down fiercely.

Titus the dwarf was horrified, his head was hacked into a bloody pulp, and blood flowed out like a stream, steaming hot.

The arrogant faces of the other four Squirrel Party dwarves froze at that moment, replaced by expressions of terror.

"I'm going to kill you!"

The axe rose up in response, shattering the Kunen seal and diminishing its fierce aura.

But the blow still landed squarely on Arwen's back, tearing his cloak and making a tearing sound as his leather jacket was ripped.

The dwarf, Gren, had a look of madness in his eyes, as if he could already see the scene of his opponent's skin being torn apart.

"Clang!"

The sound of metal clashing rang out.

The dwarf, Gren, stared wide-eyed at his two-handed axe, as if he had struck steel.

Just like the Royal Pterodactyl from before, but the opponent was just a beast and couldn't use the Quen sign.

Alwin grunted, exhaled a breath of stale air, quickly formed hand seals with his left hand, and then gripped the greatsword tightly with both hands.

The gray vertical pupils suddenly turned, and the whistling sword blade, accompanied by a powerful mental impact, slashed down.

"Too weak."

The dwarf Gren hurriedly raised his axe to block, but the greatsword knocked him to his knees.

"Witchcraft... damn witchcraft!"

The dwarf, Gren, bit his tongue hard, the excruciating pain forcing him to stay awake.

Arwen raised his foot and kicked the two-handed axe in his hand away.

The dwarf, Gren, was terrified.

"vatt'ghern!"

Arwen froze, speaking in the ancient language of the elves.

It means witch hunter.

The elf grabbed a woman by the neck with one hand, his blue eyes cold.

"Put down your sword, and we'll let you go."

Out of the corner of his eye, Arwen saw that the archer Vorn had already been dealt with by the elves.

The terrified head, like a trophy, hung from the waist of another elf.

Mia's pretty face turned deathly pale as she gritted her teeth and said, "Witcher, leave me alone. I'm not that weak."

Alwin noticed a glass bottle hidden under her sleeve.

But there was an elf standing behind her, and any unusual movement would attract the elf's attention.

The elf's grip on Mia's neck tightened, and she scoffed, "Heh, but your body is trembling uncontrollably, like a worm in a spider web, terrified."

Mia rolled her eyes back, and her breathing became labored.

As the wind whistled, a dagger was plunged into Alwin's thigh.

"I hit him! I hit that freak!"

The dwarf attacker shouted excitedly, and the dwarf Gren clapped and cheered.

Blood stained the black leather pants.

Alwin remained unmoved, not even flinching from the excruciating pain that would be unbearable for most people.

The two elves under the pine forest both showed joy in their eyes.

With his five fingers digging into her skin, he could strangle Mia at any moment, forcing her to open her mouth and let out a hoarse gasp.

A glass bottle fell to the ground and shattered from under the nun's robe.

"boom!"

It exploded like a tsunami of magic, turning into a sky full of green smoke.

Before the smile on the elf's face faded, his whole body suddenly twisted and then disappeared.

Mia's body went limp, and she gasped for air.

"Quack quack quack!"

Two ugly frogs leaped up from the grass, their shrill croaks accompanied by the surging wind of Arwen's sword as he turned around.

With a single sword strike, the dwarf Gren, who had climbed to pick up the axe, was cleaved in two.

Mia, unable to alleviate the pain of suffocation, cried out in a hoarse voice.

"30 seconds... the transformation only lasts 30 seconds!"

Before she could finish speaking, her beautiful eyes narrowed and her heart raced.

Arwen's black cloak was whipped open by the strong wind, like an angry lion charging into a flock of sheep, baring its cold claws.