Capítulo 172: Mercenary who overestimates his capabilities
After leaving the palace, Wayne headed to the dwarven blacksmith master, O'Henry's workshop. He needed to check on the progress of a commission—a massive steel cage constructed from dozens of arm-thick iron bars, weighing several tons and capable of trapping most monsters. In this medieval era lacking welding technology, only a large forge like O'Henry's possessed the manpower, skill, and resources to create such a cage.
While inspecting the cage, Master O'Henry shared some good news. Using the dragon scales from Skyrim and the green dragon hide from the Wizarding World, he had nearly completed two sets of new armor.
Thanks to the ample materials Wayne provided, O'Henry had crafted a set of light leather armor and a set of heavy plate armor.
The light armor, primarily constructed from green dragon hide with metal and dragon scale reinforcements in key areas, offered moderate protection comparable to chainmail, but was significantly lighter and more flexible, weighing only five kilograms. It was ideal for agile combat.
The heavy armor, made from tough dragon scales and various rare metals, was similar to plate or composite armor. It boasted exceptional defensive capabilities, far exceeding that of standard knightly armor. However, its weight exceeded twenty kilograms, and its rigid structure slightly hindered movement.
These issues posed no problem for Wayne. His superhuman strength surpassed that of ordinary humans, even placing him among the strongest of witchers. It wasn't an exaggeration to call him a one-man army. The two sets of armor, one for everyday combat and the other for larger-scale battles, suited different scenarios, satisfying Wayne's needs.
He spent a few hours at the forge, playing Gwent with the dwarf master to gain experience and rare materials, and even cooked a delicious lunch in the workshop's simple kitchen. The camaraderie was fueled by good food, wine, and conversation.
As Wayne left, his witcher senses immediately detected that he was being followed. And not just by one or two individuals, but a sizable group.
This realization sobered him up instantly. While he had anticipated interference from the person who cursed Princess Adda, he hadn't expected them to act so boldly, less than a few hours after his meeting with the king. Was this bravery or foolishness on their part? Foltest would surely be intrigued.
Wayne had dressed formally for his palace visit, wearing a fine silk tunic and carrying no weapons. Perhaps this attire had given his pursuers a false sense of confidence. They were in for a rude awakening, as swordsmanship was only his second strongest asset. His true power lay in his ability to cast magic seals.
Feigning ignorance, Wayne left the old city of Vizima. After crossing the wooden bridge to the new city, he reached an open area with few people around. As expected, a group of about ten individuals emerged from various directions, surrounding him.
Wayne surveyed the men surrounding him, his brow furrowing. These were not mere thugs; their hardened faces and assorted weapons, including two light crossbows, suggested they were seasoned mercenaries. Their expressions were menacing.
The leader, a burly, bald man with a scarred face, approached Wayne with a cruel grin. "Pretty boy, someone paid us to rough you up. Don't take it personally."
Wayne met his gaze without flinching. "Can you tell me who hired you? Did you see them in person?"
The scarred man was momentarily surprised by Wayne's composure. However, considering Wayne's lack of weaponry and armor,he saw no threat in this unarmed man surrounded by a dozen seasoned fighters. "We can't disclose our client's identity," he sneered. "It's against our professional code. Besides, we don't know who it is. We just do the job."
"Don't resist," he warned. "We don't want to hurt you too badly."
Wayne sighed, summoning chaotic magic energy into his hands. He looked at the scarred man and offered a final warning. "Since you know nothing of value, there's no reason to keep you alive. Surrender now, and you might survive. Once the fight starts, I won't hold back."
The scar-faced brigand was stunned. He turned to his dozen heavily armed men, then laughed, "Surrender? Are you daft? Or taking us for fools? I thought he was someone of note, but he's just a fool. Lads, go cripple him."
The mercenaries, hearing their leader's command, charged mercilessly at Wayne. Their goal was to incapacitate, not kill, so the crossbowmen held their fire, arrows trained on the witcher as a threat.
Seeing their aggression, Wayne unleashed his power. Aard, the telekinetic Sign, formed in his hand, shimmering with chaotic energy. With a forceful slam into the ground, a shockwave erupted.
The blast threw grass, stones, and dirt outward. The charging mercenaries were caught in the invisible force, thrown back like rag dolls, some vomiting blood, others bowled over in a chaotic tumble.
Wayne's strength, enhanced by his Elder Blood and honed through countless battles, far surpassed that of ordinary witchers. Even the concussive force of Aard could cripple a man, rupturing organs and leaving them gasping for air.
The scar-faced leader, though knocked down by the blast, scrambled up, shouting, "He's a witcher! A sorcerer! Crossbowmen, fire!"
It's a pity that as the two enemies that Wayne focused on, how could he give them a chance to attack? Before the mercenary with a shaved head and a scarred face shouted, one of the two mercenaries holding a crossbow had already been killed by Wayne. Under the control of Axii, Wayne forced the crossbowman to fire, piercing the throat of his companion. Wayne seized the moment, rushing towards the controlled crossbowman with incredible speed. Before he could release the spell, Wayne struck a precise blow to the man's throat, shattering the bone and leaving him to choke to death.
In mere seconds, the mercenaries surrounding Wayne were decimated by his potent magic. None could stand against his onslaught. Yet, the battle-hardened leader, despite being knocked down, rose again. He grabbed his shield and sword, roaring at Wayne, rallying his remaining men, "Don't be afraid, lads! He's only one man. Join me, and we'll cut him down. Even a witcher is mortal!"
Raising his round shield, he covered his face and chest, leading the remaining mercenaries over their fallen comrades in a desperate charge towards Wayne. Unfortunately for them, they could not fathom the destructive power of a witcher with Elder Blood and full access to his abilities.
Wayne sighed inwardly, looking at the six desperate figures charging towards him. Raising his hand, already charged with chaotic magic, he unleashed a powerful Igni Sign. In an instant, a volcanic inferno of orange-red flames engulfed the six mercenaries within a dozen meters.
The mercenaries caught in the inferno let out agonizing screams before collapsing to the ground, their bodies charred beyond recognition. They writhed for a few moments before succumbing to their fiery deaths. Witnessing this horrifying scene, akin to a dragon's fiery breath, the remaining injured mercenaries were paralyzed with fear. They covered their mouths, trembling uncontrollably, their eyes wide with terror as they looked at Wayne as if he were a demon. Some even lost control of their bladders in their fright.
These men, more bandits than mercenaries, had lived by the sword, and Wayne felt no pity for them. He cast a cold glance at the survivors on the ground, choosing not to end their lives. After all, in this world, killing offered no reward, and leaving a few alive to tend to the dead seemed a fitting end.
Shaking off the minor burns from Igni's intense heat, Wayne turned and strode towards a nearby forest. His witcher senses detected a figure observing the scene. Upon witnessing Wayne's victory, or rather, the massacre, the figure gasped in surprise and fled in the opposite direction.
This individual was likely the one who hired the mercenaries to ambush Wayne, and possibly the same one who cursed and poisoned Princess Adda. Wayne vaguely remembered him as a corpulent palace minister, though the name escaped him. However, if he caught the man, recognition would be instant.
Wayne moved swiftly, and within moments, he spotted the fleeing figure. It was indeed the minister, adorned in finery, running towards the gates of Vizima.
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