Guilliman decided to bring the dryad girl Buiel with him.
Although the dryad girl spent most of her time in the Druid's Circle and wasn't too familiar with the swamp's conditions.
However, with the dryad race's talent in the forest, having her along should make it easier to find a group of people hiding in the forest.
Indeed, after about three days, Buiel, through some special methods and communication with small swamp animals, finally found the area where the Scoia'tael resided.
It was a hidden area covered in thorny brambles, with mud traps everywhere, almost like a floating island in the mire.
No wonder the Scoia'tael had been hiding there for so long without being discovered by the Order of the Flaming Rose or other residents of the swamp.
Guilliman stood outside the floating island, searching for a long time but couldn't find a way in.
He thought for a moment.
It seemed he had no particular relationship with these Scoia'tael; simply trying to persuade them verbally would probably underestimate these warriors who were fighting for their kin with their lives.
And with only two days left until his appointment with the Goddess of Flowers, he didn't have time to waste with these people.
He might as well just beat them into submission.
Let these guys know that there are always those who are stronger, and that the world is vast.
Acting recklessly and blindly would only lead to a futile death.
Once they were subdued, discussing matters should be more convincing.
Having made up his mind, Guilliman told the dryad girl to wait for him in a tree.
He then drank three Witcher potions to enhance his Signs, cast a powerful Quen shield on himself, put on his Nightingale mask, and activated his Leap medallion.
He flew directly into the thorny thicket from the air, following traces of campfires, and descended from the sky, jumping straight into the Scoia'tael camp.
And surprisingly, there were quite a few master archers among the Scoia'tael members; some archers spotted him even before he landed.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Four or five arrows shot from different directions; after he batted most of them away with his bare hands, one or two still hit his Quen shield.
However, because the arrows had little force, they merely caused a ripple before bouncing off.
With his current shield strength, let alone arrows, even heavy crossbows, or even ordinary ballistas, should be blocked for one or two hits.
Although the elves' archery was highly accurate, they generally used short bows with little power, which struggled to pierce even sturdy leather armor, let alone his magical shield.
Since the fight had begun, the Witcher didn't bother with idle chatter.
However, he didn't intend to kill anyone, so he didn't draw his weapons, instead teleporting directly next to a female elven archer.
He mercilessly delivered a roundhouse kick to the female elf's waist, sending the slender elf flying four or five meters, where she landed on the ground, unable to move.
Then, a dwarf in iron armor roared and charged at him, wielding a huge iron axe, aiming for his legs.
A dwarf's low-stance chop, specifically for taller opponents.
Unfortunately, Guilliman's physical attributes, even without potions, were already seven or eight times that of an ordinary person, making his combat against these ordinary warriors an absolute crush (crushing) victory.
Their speed, in the Witcher's eyes, was sluggish and full of openings; in a one-on-one fight, they would have absolutely no chance of winning.
Guilliman kicked the dwarf in the chest, knocking the armored dwarf to the ground, then grabbed one of his thick legs and, like throwing a sandbag, effortlessly tossed the three-to-four hundred-pound iron lump away, where it crashed into two other charging dwarf warriors.
Subsequently, four or five elven warriors, armed with scimitars and daggers, rushed at him from the flanks.
Facing these not-so-strong warriors, Guilliman conjured a Sign with one hand, and with a "Bang!" an Aard Sign blasted forth, directly sending all four or five of them flying backward, crashing heavily to the ground.
To be honest, after an exceptionally easy fight, even Guilliman was somewhat surprised by his current combat power.
He hadn't felt it when fighting the half-fishmen, only thinking those monsters were too weak.
Compared to a month ago, when he fought the Salamandra gang and needed the aid of alchemical bombs to deal with two or three dozen gang members.
Now, he was a world apart; facing these ordinary people, it was like slicing vegetables, one hit per person, with extreme crushing power and speed, leaving them no room to resist.
Even with unarmed attacks, few could withstand a casual blow from him.
Combined with the synergistic use of five Signs, he would probably only feel pressure when facing a group of fully armed elite warriors or a charging legion.
Thus, countering every move, with bare hands combined with Witcher Signs.
Guilliman stood directly in the center of the Scoia'tael camp, facing the Scoia'tael members charging from all directions, mercilessly knocking them to the ground, though without causing them serious injury.
Even when faced with a volley of arrows from the Scoia'tael, he only needed a Blink skill to avoid the incoming arrows and charge directly into the crowd of archers.
In less than a quarter of an hour, he had knocked down seventy or eighty people throughout the camp; the remaining dozen or so Scoia'tael members were practically trembling with terror and utterly bewildered.
They no longer dared to attack him.
Once the camp was filled with the screams of the fallen and no one was attacking him anymore.
Guilliman took off his Nightingale mask, revealing his handsome and cheerful smile.
He looked at an elven man, who was being helped up, had a scar on his face, and a stern expression, and said with a smile:
"Haha, hello."
"Mr. Yaevinn, right?"
"Please don't misunderstand, I am your friend, Witcher Guilliman."
"I was entrusted by a friend to specially seek you out this time."
"That was just a bit of fun between us; don't take it to heart."
"Don't worry, I know how to hold back; everyone should only have suffered minor flesh wounds."
"If you don't mind, I'd like to find a place to talk with you privately."
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