The Witcher: Grinding Experience Starting as a Wolf School Witcher

Chapter 145 Bishop

[Pheromone Domination] Upon contact with the juvenile Queen Chichimo inside the beehive, its antennae begin to tremble at a high frequency.

The wizard raised his staff high, chanting loudly, intending to close the rocky barrier before him and crush the witcher completely.

At the same time, the ground began to tremble, and the tremors intensified.

"Harold!?"

The gray-robed wizard felt the ground tremble and asked in a puzzled tone.

Harold is the name of the earth mage holding a staff at his side.

Harold frowned, interrupting his spell, and explained, "This wasn't caused by my magic."

As soon as he finished speaking, a flurry of voices began to rise.

"Sh ...

The sound of countless arthropods scraping against the ground surged out from the surrounding mountains and forests like a tsunami, sending chills down one's spine.

The green-robed wizard hovered in mid-air, his field of vision was much wider, and he saw the surrounding scenery clearly at the first moment.

The massive, dark army of Qiqimo covered the mountains and fields, brandishing their tail stingers and constantly opening and closing their mandibles. Wherever they went, trees were broken and birds and beasts scattered.

"It's the Qiqimo army!"

The grey-robed wizard exclaimed in astonishment, "Qiqimo? Shouldn't these beasts be inside the wormhole? Could they have been sent by His Holiness the bishop?"

Thinking of this, Harold's eyes revealed a smug look.

With the bishop's army of Chichimo, this witcher is doomed.

Hearing the commotion, Alwin seized the opportunity and quickly climbed over the rocky rampart.

The layers of stone walls before him reminded him of his "comb" training in Kaer Mohen.

The cat's eye swept across, and [Dual Soul] immediately calculated the correct path.

The green-robed wizard noticed him and sneered mockingly.

"They dare to attack us? They're insane! Get rid of this freak!"

The gray-robed wizard chanted a spell, and streaks of blue wind blades flew out from his sleeves.

Arwen used the Quen sign, constantly dodging and weaving, stepping on the stone pillars as if they were flat ground.

With a whirling movement, a green spherical projectile shot out like a cannonball, instantly reaching the three people in front of them.

He made an Igni hand gesture with his left hand.

The sphere exploded, and the shell casings made of Qiqi Mojia shattered. In the firelight, green mist suddenly burst open.

"Oh no, it's poisonous fog!"

The green-robed wizard shouted, held his breath, and cast a shield spell.

The mist licked at the shield, making a hissing sound.

The gray-robed wizard waved his hand, using a gust of wind to disperse the mist.

But then, another enhanced venom bomb was already flying in.

The green mist exploded again, obscuring their vision.

At the same time, the soil beneath the gray-robed wizard's feet suddenly broke open.

A gray pincer emerged from within, gleaming with a cold light, clamped onto his right leg, and violently yanked his body down.

"what!"

The gray-robed wizard screamed as his flight magic was interrupted, and the green-robed wizard fell to the ground from the sky.

The mountain-sized monster burst completely out of the earth.

"It's a Qiqimo warrior!"

In his shock, Harold immediately curled up and slammed his palms to the ground.

"Boom!"

With a loud bang, the rocks beneath him immediately rose up, engulfing his body.

The rock's surface gleamed with a metallic sheen; magic had imbued it with a certain substance, making it even harder.

The green-robed wizard cursed under his breath as a piece of trash, faced the Qiqimo warriors head-on, and spat out a venomous ray.

The armor of the Qiqimo warriors was extremely tough, but it was still no match for the compressed venom ray.

"Zzzzt!"

The claws were severed by the ray, leaving a wound as white as crab meat.

The Qiqimo warrior cried out in pain and quickly retreated. The poison from the enhanced venom bomb landed on its body but had no effect.

After all, the main ingredient in these bombs is their venom.

The gray-robed wizard broke free of the giant pincers, staggered back, and fell to his knees with a thud.

He was breathing heavily in pain, and his body was trembling uncontrollably.

Above his mangled calf was a bloody hole.

The blood that had flowed out had already begun to congeal, demonstrating its toxicity.

That bloody hole was made by the Qiqimo warriors using their tail stingers while they were holding him captive.

"Alaric," the green-robed wizard quickly stepped forward and helped the gray-robed wizard to his feet, "Are you still able to move?"

The gray-robed wizard was panting heavily, his heart filled with doubt and uncertainty.

Why did the Qiqimo warrior ambush him? Why? Why?

Suddenly, his pupils narrowed, and he unleashed all his strength, shoving the green-robed wizard away with one hand.

Startled, a gust of cold wind pierced his neck, and the chill rose from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.

The black sword light severed his head.

The hydra mask fell off, revealing the appearance of a middle-aged man.

His face was contorted in rage, and he died with his eyes wide open in disbelief.

Arwen quickly stored the green-robed wizard's corpse into his spatial ring, then, using his right foot as the center, spun around and, with power rising from the ground, slammed his silver-studded gauntlets against the rocky wall beside him.

The [Giant Bloodline] erupted, like the immense force of a massive avalanche, causing the fist to embed itself in the rocky barrier, cracking like a spiderweb before exploding into pieces.

At the same time, Qiqimo's army had already surrounded them.

Taking advantage of a gap in the rock wall, a smaller Chichimo engineer crawled inside.

"Get out of here! You filthy freaks!"

Inside the fortress, Harold brandished his staff, continuously casting earth spikes to skewer Qiqi Mo like a candied hawthorn, the green, foul blood spilling onto the ground and emitting a pungent white smoke.

But the death of one Chichimoth completely enraged the others, who then frantically rushed towards the gap.

Even the fortress, comparable to granite, groaned under the onslaught of insects.

The one-armed Chichimo warrior, fearlessly charging into the fortress, used his remaining pincers to lock Harold's waist.

"ah!!!"

Harold screamed, followed by the sound of bones shattering. Red liquid stained his wizard robes as he was severed at the waist, his intestines spilling out onto the ground.

As for the gray-robed wizard, taking advantage of the moment he pushed his companion away, he desperately cast a spell, and the blue clouds made him float in the sky, allowing him to escape the swarm of insects.

He swayed as he moved closer to the bishop's seat.

"Your Excellency! Save me! Save me!"

The grey-robed wizard looked up and cried out for help to the black-robed bishop who was hovering high above.

However, the other party simply stood silently in the void, without even making a move of a finger.

Arwen planted the greatsword upright on the ground, and the Atamon ring in his hand flashed with silver light.

A dark green folding bow was fully drawn back with a flick of the left arm.

He took out an arrow from his spatial ring with his right hand, and the bow was drawn to its fullest extent. The runes carved on the bow arm were lit up one by one, giving him an amplification of speed.

His gaze locked on her, and he slowly took a breath.

With a slight release of the finger, the white talent [Hundred Steps Piercing Yang] is triggered.

The accuracy rate within 100 steps is increased by 50%, whether static or dynamic, plus the terrifying vision of a cat's eye.

It can be said that the hit rate is 100%.

"Whoosh!"

The arrow was shot out, and its complete trajectory could not be fully captured by the naked eye, leaving a green trail in the air.

The gray-robed wizard in mid-air felt a chill on the back of his head, and his vision turned blood red.

The arrow pierced his head as if through a thin sheet of paper, its swirling force churning his brain until his skull exploded like a watermelon.

The murky blood spilled onto the ground like rain.

The headless corpse, no longer supported by magic, plummeted straight down from the sky and crashed into the swarm of insects.

Qiqimo immediately pounced on it, tearing and biting with its mouthparts. In just a few breaths, it devoured the gray-robed wizard's corpse completely, leaving not even a bone behind.

Arwen sheathed his bow and arrow, gripped the hilt of his greatsword, and looked up at the figure standing in the air.

The black-robed bishop watched as his envoys died one by one at his hands, without even the slightest desire to intervene.

"Slap—slap—slap—"

A crisp round of applause came from high above. He didn't speak, but the sound went straight into Alwin's mind.

"That was truly amazing."

His body slowly descended, still twenty meters in the air, looking down at him from above.

Beneath the pitch-black Hydra mask, a flicker of interest finally appeared in those emotionless pupils.

"Being able to control these Chichimos in such a short time, you must have a way to completely master the Chichimo Queen."

"It's truly astonishing; even I am at a loss about how to handle this."

"And those bombs of yours, tsk tsk—"

"A witcher, magic, alchemy, swordsmanship, oh, and the archery you just demonstrated."

"Such talent, to think it could be found in a witcher who is not even eighteen years old."

"Baron Alwin, I must admit, you are a genius that comes along only once in a lifetime."

Alwin said in a deep voice, "You know me?"

"Of course," the black-robed wizard said, spreading his arms wide, his large sleeves fluttering in the wind.

"Of course I know you. You are the savior of Ad Kale, the baron bestowed with the title of Valor by Miodrag, the Witcher that people have high hopes for, working diligently and tirelessly to clear your name of the injustice you suffered back then."

"But I really don't understand why you would do this?"

"You should understand, Alwin, even if you are now a baron, with an enviable title."

"But what does it matter to those fools?"

"Will they think more highly of you? No, they won't."

Behind your back, they'll still call you a freak, a mutant, and a damn inhuman!

"What's so good about being loyal to them?"

"Look at this world, bandits are everywhere, and those nobles in high places are sucking the blood of the whole world."

"Especially those kings, what makes them worthy of being supported by the people!"

His tone was deep, revealing suppressed anger.

"Do you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to put limits on these monarchs, establish a constitutional monarchy, do you understand?"

"Then, by eliminating them little by little and promoting democracy, the world can move towards a better future!"

"Join us, Arwen, and you will witness it all."

"You have witnessed the suffering of the world and borne its malice. You also have the power to overturn this world. Let's work together."

Alwin lowered his gaze slightly; the other person's voice had a demonic quality that could indeed ignite anger in many people.

He often wondered what benefits there were to becoming a baron and a lackey of the secular elite, other than giving Kael Morhen a sense of law and order.

Are those monarchies, those nobles, and those unruly commoners really worth saving?

Until he took Holt's silver sword, Thor Ivy.

The beautiful silver sword was engraved with the runes of the Supreme Servant, the maxim of the Wolf School of Witchers.

Dubhenn haern am glandeal, morc "hamfheanaiesin.

My sword light will pierce the darkness, my sharp edge will dispel the gloom.

He immediately raised his head and sneered, "Your words, sir, that monarchy lacks constitution and democracy is indeed a wake-up call."

"But Your Excellency," his grip tightened on the sword hilt, his voice hardening, "if you can even stand by and watch your own men die, how can you expect me to believe your words?"

He slowly raised his right hand, the sword pointing at the black-robed bishop in the air.

"Furthermore, your so-called constitutional monarchy is nothing more than creating another tyrant, and that tyrant is you."

"The entire village is within your magic circle, isn't it? Even now, their minds are still under your control, and they're willingly praying to you?"

"This is the democracy you're talking about? That's laughable!"

The glint in the black-spotted bishop's eyes vanished abruptly, replaced by indifference, and he let out a cold laugh.

"Foolish, truly foolish. For the sake of great things, some small sacrifices are ultimately necessary."

"These people, they died on the path to fulfilling their destiny. What is there to regret about such a glorious scene?"

"As for the people in Qi's village, what about them?"

He turned slightly to the side, raised his right hand, and clenched it into a fist.

"In my village, they can live a dreamlike life, without having to endure famine, cold, and heavy taxes, which is much better than living in this cruel world."

"He Cheng, how do you know they're unwilling?"

"And I grant them liberation, and in exchange, they pray for me, give their lives for me, become the sustenance for my ascension to the throne, become my food—is this not only right and proper?"

The man before me speaks eloquently, but he's actually engaged in shady dealings, profiting from others' suffering.

What difference does it make if we follow those selfish and self-serving monarchs?

Alwin exhaled a breath of stale air, triggering [Pheromone Domination]. The Qiqimo Queen larva in the beehive received the pheromones and immediately issued a command.

The Qiqimo army, poised for battle, received the signal and unleashed a deluge of green, corrosive venom at the bishop high in the sky.

Faced with the venom attack, the Black Sign Bishop only let out a contemptuous sneer.

Without him chanting a spell, a magical shield appeared in front of him.

The venom sizzled as it hit the surface.

Arwen squinted. Was it a sign?

No.

Under his mental perception, the magic power condensed in that shield was much stronger than the Quen Shield he had cast.

Casting magic without chanting is simply an unbelievable thing in this world.

No wonder those bishops all used the word "terrible" to describe them.

The bishop with the black card lowered his head, his tone filled with regret.

"It's a pity that I didn't invite the person I really wanted to invite."

"You'll regret this, Witcher."

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