Refusal

Letho showed a hint of fatigue, the fine scratches on his muscular body clearly visible.

"Him is dead." After speaking, he extended his hand to the dwarf, revealing a pile of gray powder in his thick palm, which was still emitting a faint, fishy warmth.

Roy, standing nearby, sniffed the familiar scent and the corners of his mouth curved into a slight arc, a look of "as expected" on his face.

"Master Letho, thank you so much!" The dwarf cupped a handful of Him's remains and clenched it tightly in his fist as if venting, his eyes reddening. This time, his heart was finally at ease.

This Witcher before him was unimaginably powerful. He couldn't help but feel a chill down his spine just recalling the fierce battle that had just taken place.

But undoubtedly, the terrifying devil that had plagued him for months was finally dead.

He was free!

He cheerfully tossed the ashes into the air and, in front of Letho, eagerly took out a bank note from his pocket, presenting it to the Witcher with deep gratitude. "This is the agreed-upon reward, redeemable at any Vivaldi, Giandante, or Sionnfainnili bank."

Letho glanced at the number and tucked it away. He knew that these dwarf banks had branches in almost all major cities.

"Master Witcher, Roy, the dwarves have been secretly supporting the Revolutionary Army all along, which is also to balance the power of Edessberg. Both commoners and merchants can benefit the most from this. If this secret were to leak, and everyone knew that the revolutionary leader Vernon Roche died in the dwarf's cellar, then the Mahakam dwarves would automatically be labeled as Baron's forces. The balance would be broken, so please, keep this secret for me."

"Of course," Letho said in a deep voice, "I will not tarnish the honor of the Viper School."

"I promise too."

At this, the dwarf bowed solemnly to the two of them.

"I will remember your kindness. From now on, you are my honored guests, Sevir. You are welcome to visit anytime! But enough of that, it's getting late, please allow me to host you for lunch at my residence."

"Mr. Sevir, you flatter me. This was just a fair commission, and you paid the reward. Money exchanged hands, and the deal is done." Letho did not accept the dwarf's flattery. "However, another meal is certainly fine."

Back in the main hall, while Sevir was away, Roy looked Letho up and down with curious eyes, as if seeing the bald giant for the first time. Only when the Witcher's eternally unchanging poker face showed a hint of annoyance did he ask in a low voice, "Was there really a devil in the cellar?"

Letho returned a surprised look. "What do you think?"

"Him's ashes were actually Pterodactyl droppings, right? I smelled that scent for several nights, I wouldn't be mistaken."

Roy was ninety percent sure that the remains of Him Letho had given to the dwarf were the same as the Pterodactyl droppings Letho had used to ward off wild beasts in the wilderness a few days prior.

"He wanted to get rid of the devil for peace of mind, so I created a devil for him. Isn't that fair?"

"If he can't find the devil, he'll never have peace of mind." Letho paused. "When you're older, you'll understand that negative emotions in people's hearts can be more terrifying than Monsters at times."

"At least, we've successfully completed the commission. From now on, Sevir Hoog should be able to sleep soundly."

Letho looked at the brightly lit ceiling, his tone carrying an inexplicable sigh.

Would getting rid of this nonexistent Him really allow him to sleep soundly? Roy was highly skeptical. However, as a Witcher Master and an experienced individual, his judgment was likely more accurate.

"I still have a question. How did you create that reflection of Him? Even I was almost fooled."

Hearing his question, the giant quietly extended his hands. His calloused fingers intertwined and danced in the candlelight, as nimble as joyful butterflies.

"Letho, when you're no longer a Witcher, you could try acting. You might be able to make a living at the theater."

In the opulent banquet hall, three people were dining.

Sevir, having shed his great worry, was unusually talkative, his spirits high as he constantly recounted his experiences and anecdotes from Mahakam.

Mahakam, the homeland of the dwarves, had maintained a principle of neutrality and self-preservation throughout every stage of the Northern Wars, thus remaining steadfast.

Whether it was Aedirn to the east or Temeria to the west, or even Nilfgaard's later northern campaign, none could gain any advantage from them. Besides being famous for its wine, Mahakam was rich in mineral resources. More than half of the north's mines, smelters, and forges were located in Mahakam, boasting countless skilled artisans and producing the highest quality steel and weapons in the north.

Any nation that dared to covet Mahakam's autonomy would face their retaliation and would no longer be able to obtain any weapons or equipment from Mahakam.

It wasn't just a mountain range; it was a gold mine!

It was also fortunate that the dwarves' reproductive capacity was far inferior to that of humans, and it took a full fifty-five years to reach adulthood. They lacked the population base for outward expansion and invasion, hence they were content to reside in Mahakam for the time being.

In this era, dwarves were the most prosperous among all non-human races. However, some dwarves left their homeland, either joining the still-underground Scoia'tael to engage in robbery and murder, or going to human cities to work in banking, trade, and forging. Although despised by their kin, perhaps due to their innate talent, they lived quite well.

As he spoke, Sevir's tone couldn't hide his pride and a hint of envy.

After all, his wine dealership rights were far inferior to those of weapons and ore.

The dwarf, having found his conversational stride, spoke at length, occasionally asking about the Witcher's life experiences with curiosity, and then offering a few flattering compliments.

Regarding how Roy knew about secret matters like the Scoia'tael, he only vaguely mentioned it and dropped the subject when he saw the Witcher's nonchalant expression.

The meal was a pleasant one for all.

"Weapons point towards enemies, fine wine treats friends. Two, please join me for another drink!"

After eating and drinking their fill, the dwarf approached, feigning hesitation for a moment. "I actually have a rather presumptuous request."

"It's not to ask us to deal with that corpse, is it?" Roy jokingly remarked, but Sevir's eyes lit up and he followed his lead, "As expected of Master Letho's assistant, that is precisely my intention."

Help him transport the body of the revolutionary army leader?

Roy shook his head desperately without a second thought, muttering to himself that even after eating the dwarf's meal, he couldn't take on a job that put his head on the line.

"I heard the Revolutionary Army is planning a major parade this afternoon to force the Baron to release this fellow in your wine cellar."

Doing this now would be equivalent to courting death.

The dwarf was not discouraged and turned his gaze to Letho.

The Witcher pondered for a second before spreading his hands, "Sorry, this isn't a job a Witcher excels at, and I really can't earn this money. Leave the matter of handling the corpse to someone else. Besides, with Lord Sevir's methods and connections, transporting a body out of the city shouldn't be difficult. We won't get involved."

The dwarf stroked his beard, his face etched with bitterness. "Although the Baron's soldiers searched the estate once, there's no guarantee they won't come again. To be honest, I've already been marked as a person of interest by the Baron. As soon as I leave the manor, my every move is under his watchful eye. Moreover, I don't want a fourth person to know this secret. I don't trust them, so I can only entrust this matter to you two."

Roy suggested, "If it's really impossible, why don't you find a place and burn the body on the spot?"

The dwarf frantically shook his head.

"I accidentally caused Aken's death, and if I desecrate my dear friend's body like this, I'll never have peace of mind! I want to make amends. Ideally, I want to return Aken's body to the Revolutionary Army! The premise is that it cannot be linked to me."

"That's impossible!"

This time, Letho flatly refused. Taking the body of another leader back – was that a show of force or an insult? Even if they ignored the dangers during transport and the Revolutionary Army's elusive whereabouts, figuring out how to escape after delivering the body to them would be a problem.

The bearded dwarf lowered his head, his attitude extremely humble.

His earnest, expectant gaze made Roy's skin crawl. Then, his eyes darted, and an idea surfaced in his mind.

"Let me think, how big is the wine barrel used to store the body?"

Sevir unhesitatingly provided the dimensions. He had handled the wine barrels in the cellar for decades and knew their size by heart.

"What, do you have an idea, sir?"

The dwarf was puzzled. Even Master Letho was stumped, so how could this ordinary-looking young man have a solution?

Roy pondered for a moment. Relying on his knowledge from his previous life, he quickly calculated the volume of the wine barrel. His Storage Space could barely fit it.

However, he was unsure if it was appropriate to get involved, so he glanced at the bald strongman. The latter gently shook his head at him.

"I'm sorry, Lord Sevir, I really can't help."

The dwarf couldn't hide his disappointment. "I won't force you two any further, but if you change your minds, you're always welcome to visit again. If you help me resolve this burden, I will treat you both as brothers."