Guilliman was not a boring person; in his previous life, he was a frequent guest at drinking tables. With his dwarf friend Zoltan covering for him, he got along quite well with the other dwarves.
Although most dwarves were greedy, stubborn, and rude, they were exceptionally loyal, whether to friends, kin, or family.
They were all men, and after a few strong drinks and some dirty jokes, they quickly became sworn brothers.
Yarpen shared his dragon-slaying stories from the Northern Kingdoms. While most of them involved wyverns, basilisks, and forktails, his proudest achievement was leading a group of dwarves to defeat Ocvist, the Dragon of Quartz Hill, who had resided in the Mahakam Mountains and plagued the dwarves for many years.
This was a true giant dragon, an albino red dragon, hundreds of years old, with an intelligence no less than that of an average human. It was said that its flames could melt steel, its sharp fangs could pierce plate armor, and ordinary arrows could not penetrate its scales.
It was a very exciting battle; over a dozen brave dwarves sacrificed their lives. Even Guilliman listened with great interest, feeling admiration for the dwarves' bravery.
He himself was a cheat, but that didn't prevent him from respecting those who truly possessed courage and responsibility.
As they chatted, the conversation turned to the current commission.
According to Yarpen, it was precisely because his dragon-hunting team was famous and renowned throughout the kingdoms that the village chief had specifically written to invite them to hunt dragons here.
The targets this time were two large wyverns, residing at the peak of Tea Mountain.
Originally, this was a village that produced a lot of tea, and many villagers made a living by planting and picking tea. However, a year ago, two wyverns, whose origin was unknown, occupied the peak of Tea Mountain, causing several villagers who went out to pick tea to be lost, severely impacting their lives.
The villagers' self-organized hunting team went to confront the wyverns but failed. Their arrows could hardly cause damage to these thick-skinned, tough monsters.
As a last resort, the village offered a hefty reward and posted a notice to recruit witchers and dragon-hunting teams.
Unfortunately, no witchers arrived, but Yarpen's dragon-hunting team was the first to come.
At this point, Yarpen finally brought up the matter of payment. He chuckled and said without reservation:
"We arrived a day before you and have already spoken with the village chief here."
"She offered a reward of two thousand Orens, one thousand Orens per wyvern."
"If you join our team, we'll distribute the reward based on how much effort each of us puts in."
"I, Yarpen Zigrin, am always fair with prices; I won't cheat you on the reward."
"If you're confident you can handle one wyvern by yourself, that's fine too."
"We'll split the reward fifty-fifty."
Two wyverns, two thousand Orens?
This reward was indeed a bit exaggerated.
It should be known that in the Northern Kingdoms, it was quite rare for an ordinary village to gather a hundred Orens to post a witcher contract.
It wasn't that the villagers were too stingy; rather, given the economic conditions of the Middle Ages, ordinary commoners were indeed dirt poor.
Most of the food they grew was used for taxes and self-sufficiency, and there wasn't much currency circulating in the village normally. It was often difficult to raise enough money for major events.
When Geralt saved Princess Adda and lifted her striga curse, he only received a reward of three thousand Orens.
Guilliman searched through the crypt of the White Orchard lord's house and only found funerary items worth about one thousand Orens.
However, if it were two adult wyverns, this price, though a bit inflated, wasn't too difficult to accept.
These draconic monsters could not only fly but also had tough hides and extremely strong vitality.
They were more powerful than the more common flying monsters like griffins, and even fighting on the ground, they couldn't be dealt with by ordinary villagers.
Probably only experienced witchers, or famous dragon-hunting teams like Yarpen's, would be confident in dealing with monsters of this level.
Guilliman nodded, and after a few seconds of thought, said:
"Let's each deal with one; I'm not confident in taking on two wyverns simultaneously."
This wasn't false modesty; even in the game, the protagonist Geralt never fought two wyverns at the same time.
Facing multiple flying monsters, the difficulty of combat increased exponentially.
Yarpen also considered this point and didn't want his companions to take too many risks, which is why he made this suggestion. After all, who wouldn't want to earn double the money if they could?
After a brief agreement, Yarpen scheduled the action for three days later. After all, hunting a draconid was a very dangerous battle, and there was a lot of preliminary work to be done.
Guilliman, of course, had no objection to this. This commission was a windfall for him, and he would definitely need a large sum of money when he reached Vizima, so it was like sending charcoal in winter.
After leaving the dining table, the dwarves busily went to prepare for the hunt.
Guilliman also didn't sit idle.
Hunting wyverns was different from the simple battles of killing drowners or ghouls. While they might not be considered boss-level monsters, they were definitely elite monsters.
As a witcher, he also had many pre-battle preparations to make.
The difference in strength between a prepared witcher and an unprepared witcher was like night and day.
For this battle, he needed to prepare all auxiliary resources in advance, whether it was potions, sword oils, or alchemical bombs.
It was also a good opportunity to see what his combat limit was, so he would at least have some psychological preparation for future endeavors.
After leaving the dining table, Guilliman wandered around the village.
Among the passersby, whether dwarves or elves, all cast curious glances at him, the witcher.
Compared to other non-human races, the number of witchers was simply too small. Perhaps the total number of witchers in both the South and North combined was less than fifty, which, when spread across countries with millions of people, could only be described as extremely rare.
However, it must be said that female elves were indeed more beautiful than humans. Their slender bodies, delicate features, and the ethereal temperament brought by their long lives always had an indescribable allure.
Unfortunately, this village was too small; it didn't even have a tavern, let alone a brothel.
This left Guilliman, the old pervert, somewhat disappointed.
But as he walked, he suddenly heard the "bang, bang, bang, bang" of hammering.
Following the sound, a building with a forge and an anvil station came into his sight—it was actually a blacksmith's shop.
Standing in front of the forge, wielding a hammer, was a female elf with light golden long hair, a light tan complexion, a slender but athletic build, wearing shorts, with her chest bound by strips of cloth, looking very heroic and spirited.
Curiosity sparked in Guilliman's heart, drawn by this heroic figure, and he couldn't help but walk into the blacksmith's shop.
However, the scene that greeted him upon entering surprised him even more.
Hanging on the walls of the blacksmith's shop were not farmer's tools or commoners' cleavers and iron pots, but beautifully crafted, gleaming weapons that looked very refined at first glance.
Clearly, the elven female blacksmith before him was no ordinary blacksmith, but a rather excellent weapon smith.