The Witcher World: The Path to Domination Begins in Velen

Chapter 127 The Giant Bear's Attack and Ron's Actions (4700 words)

The hall remained quiet; the aftershocks of the punch still lingered on everyone's faces. Some people held their drinks but forgot to drink, while others stared at the cracked stone wall with their mouths agape.

Ron and Halma returned to the table amidst the awe-inspiring gazes of the crowd. Before they could even sit down, Habuyon and the others crowded around, their eyes filled with curiosity after being impressed.

"Gods above, Ron, how did you grow up like this?" Habuyorn gestured, his face full of disbelief.

"That Vilka man is as strong as an ox, and you actually punched him into the wall with one punch, cracking the stone!"

Ron pulled out a bench and sat down, chuckling softly, "It's something you learn through practice."

"Trained up?" Habuyon repeated, his face showing a look of utter disbelief at the answer.

"How do you train them? By carrying oxen up the mountain every day?"

Ron didn't reply, but his lips twitched as a response.

Halma smugly slapped the table. "How about that? I wasn't bragging! Ron is a man who can even take down Titans, what are the Vilka people compared to him?"

Alan Lugo put down the barrel of liquor in his hand, grinned, and said, "I admit it, inlander, your fists are harder than your drinking capacity. But if we have to drink again next time, I won't lose to you."

Halma raised his glass and said, "Alan Lugo, I told you, the friends I make can't be wrong!"

"Halma, what are your father's plans regarding the succession to the throne?" Ron asked casually.

Halma took a swig of wine, wiped his mouth, and said, "It's hard to say. Kairis has quite a few supporters. Although that old guy Dona didn't say it outright, I can tell he's more inclined towards my sister. She believes that rulers can't rely solely on force; they also need to gain the willing support of the lords. I have to say, Kairis's approach is indeed very popular with the old guys."

Ron nodded. "What do you think?"

"I don't think it's necessary to go through so much trouble," Halma grinned, a rare seriousness in his smile.

"Of course, I know you can't hold that position with just your fists, but if your fists aren't strong enough, who the hell will listen to you?"

Just as Ron was about to speak, a commotion arose from the northeast corner of the hall, accompanied by several piercing screams, and the crowd instantly erupted.

"Bear! Help!!"

Ron suddenly stood up, his gaze sweeping through the crowd. Two enormous bears, covered in red fur, rushed out and began tearing and attacking the guests.

Their eyes were red and drool dripped from their mouths. With each swing of their claws, they could smash a heavy wooden table to pieces, and several people had already fallen to the ground.

Kairis had already drawn her sword and charged forward. She nimbly circled around the giant bear, her sword leaving bloody marks on the bear's hide, but she could not inflict fatal wounds and could only barely entangle it.

"Halma! Something's happened! Go help Karis!" Habuyorn roared, drawing his broadsword and charging forward.

Without hesitation, Ron quickly weaved through the fleeing crowd and headed straight for another bear, which was pinning a young man to the ground with its fangs pointed at his throat.

Ron stopped abruptly four or five steps away, took a deep breath, bent over to gather his strength, and his muscles tensed instantly.

Click!

The crisp sound of cracking stone bricks and the whistling wind that followed rang out simultaneously. Ron's body, like a cannonball, instantly slammed into the giant bear that was about to tear him apart.

boom!!

The giant bear's massive body was lifted off the ground by the terrifying impact, its limbs helplessly outstretched in the air. Ron's shoulder pressed firmly against its ribs, crushing several long tables along the way before crashing into a tall pillar.

A tremendous roar echoed through the hall, stone pillars cracked, and dust and rubble flew everywhere.

When the smoke cleared, Ron reappeared. The giant bear beneath his feet had its spine broken, and its body was twisted into an eerie angle as if it had been repeatedly struck by a battering ram, before falling completely silent.

Ron immediately stepped back, not looking at them for long, and turned his gaze to Kerris and the others.

Halma and Habuyorn joined the battle, working with Kairis to take down the remaining bear.

Habujorn's thigh appeared to have been pierced by a bear's claw, with blood gushing out and his entire trouser leg soaked. His face was already quite pale, but he still gripped his sword tightly and did not retreat an inch.

Ron was about to rush over to help when the hall door was suddenly pushed open.

Geralt rushed in, his steel sword instantly drawn. Behind him followed a group of men in various colored armor, led by a tall, burly red-haired man with sharp, hawk-like eyes.

Geralt strode into the battle, his sword flashing with a cold light, and precisely pierced the bear's neck. The bear let out a short roar, swayed, and fell forward to the ground.

Geralt sheathed his sword, turned from the light to Ron, and the two looked at each other for a moment without speaking.

The hall fell silent for a few moments, broken only by heavy breathing and the groans of the wounded.

Habuyan leaned against a pillar, his breathing intermittent. Blood from his right leg seeped into his boot. A middle-aged man with black hair squatted in front of him, his hands trembling as he pressed on the wound, muttering something rapidly.

"Cloth! Get me a piece of cloth! I need to stop his bleeding! Hurry!" the black-haired man roared.

Habuyon weakly lifted his eyelids. "Father... Father..."

Madman Lugo squeezed through the crowd, ripped off his cloak, and handed it to him. "Use my cloak!"

The man grabbed the cloak and pressed it firmly against his son's legs. "Hold on, son, you can do it! My leg was bitten by a shark before, and I still survived... Habjorn? Habjorn!"

Habujorn closed his eyes, and the middle-aged man froze as if he had been punched in the back.

Ron stepped forward and glanced at Habuyon's wound. "He lost too much blood and passed out. His artery was injured. Under normal circumstances, he would definitely be beyond saving, but he was lucky today."

The man whirled around, his bloodshot eyes fixed on Ron. "Really? Quick! Please save him! I'll do anything to save my son!"

Ron didn't reply. He pulled a bottle of Lazarus potion from his waist, pried open Habuyorn's mouth, and poured it down his throat. Everyone watched nervously, not daring to breathe.

"The bleeding... seems to have stopped?" the man said softly, as if asking himself.

A moment later, Habjorn's eyelids twitched, and he slowly opened his eyes, his gaze still somewhat unfocused.

"I...I'm not dead?"

Ron put the empty bottle back into his bag. "I won't die, but I'll need to recover for quite a while. You owe me a favor, so remember to buy me a drink after you've healed."

Habuyorn smiled weakly. "Alright, I'll treat you to the best wine in the archipelago. Drink as much as you like."

The man let out a long sigh of relief, stood up, and looked at Ron with a solemn expression. "I don't know who you are, but you saved my son. I am Hogg Blackhand, the patriarch of the Dimon family. I will always remember this kindness. Thank you."

An elderly man with a gray beard stepped forward and bowed slightly. "I know you, Ron, the leader of the Calard Mercenary Group, who wrestled with the giant. When you killed that bear, you also saved my grandson, Otrieg. If you hadn't knocked the bear away, he would have been killed in its jaws the next moment."

He extended his hand. "I am Dona Ann Sinda of the Hai Mei family. I owe you a great favor."

Ron took his hand and nodded.

Kratz stood in the center of the hall, looking at the mess on the floor. Kairis walked to his side, her breathing still a little unsteady, but her gaze had returned to its usual calm.

"If any other family lord's heirs had died here today, the crisis we would face would have been immense. We are so grateful that Ron saved them, but there were still ordinary guests who died at Kel'dra Castle. The Clayt family will certainly bear the main responsibility. If we don't handle this well, we may lose our chance at the throne."

At this moment, the madman Lugo strode towards Kratz, pointing his finger menacingly at him.

"Klatz! Where did those bears come from? Huh? Tell me! Tell me now!"

Halma drew his sword and stood between the two men, shouting, "How dare you speak to my father like that!"

Madman Lugo scoffed disdainfully, "Put your sword away, kid! Otherwise, Kratz will lose one of his sons today!"

Kratz's face turned ashen. He stepped forward. "You insulted me, Lugo! And you threatened my son! You're asking for trouble!"

Lugo took a step forward, veins bulging on his neck. "Then come on! Come on! Watch me bite your throat off!"

"Calm down! Everyone, calm down!" Dona Ann Sinda stepped forward and stopped the two from arguing. "Don't you think enough people have died already?!"

His gray beard trembled slightly. "Someone let these beasts in, and they killed so many guests. Although we can't bring them back to life... we can, and we must, take revenge! The owner of this place and his descendants have an inescapable duty to do so."

The eyes of many lords were fixed on Kratz, some scrutinizing, some doubtful, and some with suppressed anger.

Dona looked at Kratz and slowly said, "The Clayt family must find the murderers and make them pay the price, otherwise, the Clayt family will lose its right to compete for the throne."

"May I say something here?" Ron's calm voice rang out.

Lugo whirled around, glaring at him fiercely. "Kid, this is an internal matter of the archipelago. You, an inlander, have no right to interfere! Get lost!"

"Shut your mother, Lugo!" Kratz's furious roar exploded. "This is my guest, show him some respect!"

Dona frowned. "Lugo, Mr. Ron is the savior of my grandson Otrieg and Habujohn. He has the right to speak."

Blackhand Hogg looked coldly at Lugo, his voice hoarse, "I agree."

Lugo's lips twitched, but he didn't say anything more. However, he glared at Ron fiercely, his hostility undisguised.

Ron ignored him, his gaze sweeping over the lords present.

"This matter is most likely unrelated to the Clayt family. The mastermind behind it all aimed to achieve the current situation. The two heirs of the Clayt family, Halma and Kairis, are the most prominent among all the candidates for the throne. They don't need to resort to any other means to obtain the throne."

He paused for a moment, then continued.

"If the purpose of this is to disqualify the Clayt family from the throne race, then the third in line after Halma and Kairis will benefit the most. Who is this person? Is he present or did he leave early? This is very important. If he is not here, then he probably already knew that something bad was going to happen at the banquet."

As Ron spoke, the lords fell into deep thought. This was a scene that the person behind the scenes had not anticipated. There weren't many intelligent lords among the island lords.

If a lord's child were to die today, they would never be able to calmly listen to others' analysis, but the casualties among ordinary guests are not enough to make them completely lose their minds.

Dona stroked his beard, pondered for a moment, and said, "Ron, what you said makes a lot of sense, but we still need evidence to convince the various families."

"I know," Ron nodded. "The Clayt family will find the real killer, and I will help them."

The lords exchanged glances, then turned and left the hall to appease their respective tribesmen.

The hall fell silent again.

Halma slammed his sword down on the table beside him, and said viciously, "I know where to find the killer! It was those Vilkas!"

"Wait! Halma, are you crazy?" Karis quickly stopped him. "We haven't even figured out what happened yet, and you're already going to kill someone?"

"You can think about it slowly! As for me, I will wash away the shame of my family!" Halma's voice carried an unyielding determination.

"Hey! The lords aren't listening to you anymore! Use your brain, stop trying to be a hero!" Kerris stomped her feet in frustration.

"This concerns our honor, sister, we can't wait!"

"Are you even listening to me?" Karis's voice was filled with impatience. "Someone let the bear in, and we need to find out who it was. The answer is in this room!"

Ron interrupted their argument, "Karis, don't be so quick to call Harma brainless. His method is simple but effective. What the lords need is revenge. As long as Harma washes away the shame with blood, this matter can indeed be resolved. Of course, whether the real culprit can be found is another matter."

Halma's eyes lit up. "Haha! Ron, I knew you'd support me! Let's go to the Vilkas' lair together, I know where those bastards are!"

"Halma, wait a minute," Ron waved his hand.

"Let's approach this from two angles. Karis, you and Geralt investigate the clues inside the castle and find the real mastermind. The help that the Witcher's senses can provide is far greater than my brute force."

As for me, I'll go with Halma to the Vilka people's lair. If the clues you find aren't enough to convince the many families, then we'll have to settle this with the blood of the Vilka people."

Kerris pondered for a moment, then nodded. "Hmm, Ron, you're right. Be careful on the road. If you encounter any danger, remember to throw Harma over there; he's tough and won't die."

Halma stood there, stunned. "No way! You haven't even said a word of concern to me! You're my sister, what kind of differential treatment is this?!"

Kairis rolled her eyes at him, ignored him, and turned to look at Geralt.

Ron also looked at the Witcher, "Geralt, I'm leaving this to you. Please protect Kerris."

Geralt's gaze darted between Ron and Carey, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

"Okay, don't worry."

Kratz stepped forward and patted Ron on the shoulder.

"I'll stay here and call the medics to take care of the wounded, and arrange for the bodies of the dead to be returned to their families. These things have to be done. And Ron, thank you."

Ron nodded, then walked out of the hall with Halma, led out their horses, and headed toward the Vilka village of Folhara.

After leaving Kel'Thuzad, the two walked along the rugged mountain path. The cold wind, mixed with snowflakes, blew in. The coniferous trees along the roadside were bent over by the weight of snow, and occasionally the cries of unknown birds could be heard.

"Halma, why are you so sure this has something to do with the Vilkas?" Ron asked casually, pulling on the reins.

Halma wiped the snow off his face and said, "Ron, I was sitting across from you when we were drinking, and I could see the Vilka people's movements. I saw them turn into bears with my own eyes, just like the berserkers in the legends."

"Maybe only I noticed, but everyone's attention was on little Lugo. He was imitating you, trying to drink a whole barrel of beer in one go, but he just missed it by a hair's breadth."

Ron's eyes lit up with interest. "Berserkers who turn into bears? That sounds intriguing. How much do you know about them?"

"They don't belong to any family, they have no wives or children," Halma said, pursing her lips.

"Those who want to dedicate their lives to fighting will go there and join them. In the summer they go out hunting and plundering, and in the winter they sleep in caves with bears. That's what everyone says."

Ron chuckled. "Halma, you seem to have a keen intuition that always manages to find the simplest solution to a problem. That's a good talent."

Halma scratched his head and grinned. "My sister always says I'm single-minded, but I didn't expect to hear a different opinion from you."

The two rode along the ridge for several hours until a highland appeared ahead.

The Vilka people's village, Folhala.

Dozens of rough huts are scattered throughout the village, and the air is filled with the stench of blood and wild animals. Tall wooden totem poles stand around, carved with ferocious bear heads, exuding a primitive and savage sense of oppression.

"We've arrived," Halma said, drawing his sword, his eyes turning cold and sharp. "It's this bunch of scum."