Wizard: This witcher is neglecting his duties.

Is the main storyline finally about to begin in Chapter 30?

"Hey! You white-haired guy, wanna keep playing?"

The dwarf who won the money had red hair and a huge, bulbous nose. He grabbed the seven or eight Ducats from the cards, stuffed them into his pocket, and said smugly to Geralt:

"This is a new invention of ours, the dwarves. You need a brilliant mind and the luck of the gods to beat others."

"If you're not going to play anymore, then stand up and give the opportunity to someone else. I'm having a lot of luck today, and I'm sure I'll win a lot of coins."

Geralt grinned but didn't say anything. He was clearly very interested in this new gadget. Now that he was injured and unable to participate in battle, how could he easily give up this new fun?

He put away the set of Gwent cards that the dwarf had temporarily lent him, then took out five Ducats from his pocket, placed them on the ground, and said in a hoarse voice:

"I still have a few coins in my pocket. Whether you can take them or not depends on your skills."

The dwarf laughed heartily.

"I like your personality, you with the white hair. My name is Horton."

As he spoke, he pulled two Ducats from his pocket, tossed them to a halfling next to him, and said generously:

"Pete, give me and my new friend two Vizima Champions. That's the real fun of Gwent – ​​drinking and playing cards at the same time."

Wayne stood aside, finding it somewhat amusing to see Geralt make a new friend through Gwent.

However, he had been busy in the underground pond for a long time and had to jump into the pond to look for the entrance that the monster might enter. Not only was he covered in mud and water, but his underwear was also stained with blood and dirt, making him itchy and very uncomfortable.

I need to take a shower first.

He returned to his tent, grabbed a change of clothes, and then walked out of the cave to the river to wash himself.

Early spring in the north was still cold, but fortunately, after the sudden change brought about by the trial of the grass, Wayne's body was already vastly different from that of ordinary people. Although a cold shower wasn't very comfortable, it wasn't unbearable.

When he finished his bath and returned to the camp, he saw that the dwarf named Horton had piled up a hundred shiny Ducats in front of him.

Before he left, Geralt, who had seemed calm and collected, now had slightly red eyes, his usually expressionless face could no longer hold back his emotions, his hand holding the Gwent cards trembled slightly, and he pursed his lips, clearly having lost quite a bit.

Sure enough, after losing another round, Geralt dejectedly threw the Gwent cards on the ground, controlling his emotions, and said:

"Alright, Big Beard Horton, you win. I'm broke now."

"It must be my injury that affected my performance."

"I can't help it, I'll play with you again tomorrow."

The dwarf wasn't angry. He generously had the halfling beside him, named Pete, bring each of them a large glass of Vizima Champion, and said with a smile:

"You are always welcome to challenge me, Witcher."

"I'm not afraid to tell you, in this camp, when it comes to Gwent, I'm the best! Hahahaha!"

Geralt stood up, clicked his tongue, and touched his empty purse with a pained expression.

"Really? That's interesting."

He rubbed his chest, turned around and saw Wayne returning from his shower, and said:

Hey, bro.

"I'm going to lie down in the tent for a while to recover from my injuries. Don't make any rash moves this afternoon. Let's discuss it first."

Wayne nodded, patted Geralt on the shoulder, then looked at him and slowly walked into the tent.

According to the camp doctor, Geralt's injuries were not serious, but he had two fractured ribs and his internal organs had been severely impacted.

An ordinary person might need to stay in bed for one or two months to recover from this kind of injury, but given the Witcher's extraordinary recovery ability, he should be able to return to normal in about a week.

After Geralt left, when Wayne looked back at the campfire where the dwarves were, he noticed that without Geralt's presence, none of the other elves and dwarves watching had chosen to play Gwent with Horton.

Whether it was due to a lack of funds or fear of Horton's Gwent skills, I don't know.

After considering for a few seconds, Wayne walked up to Horton, who was drinking heavily and tidying up his Gwent cards, and said:

"Hey! Big Beard, the game you guys were playing was pretty fun."

"Can you teach me how to play?"

Horton looked up, and seeing it was Wayne, he didn't stand on ceremony. He pointed to the seat opposite him familiarly and said:

"It's you, young witcher. I know you."

"You and our leader, Toruville, are on good terms, aren't you? You even helped us fight the monsters in the ruins."

"Would you like to play Gwent too? No problem, I'll teach you!"

"This time, we young dwarves came out of the Mahakan Mountains not only to see the outside world, but also to spread the joy of Gwent to the whole world."

Wayne maintained a friendly smile and remained silent. As a veteran player who had collected all the Gwent cards in the game, did he really need anyone to teach him Gwent skills?

However, it is only 1250 now, and Gwent is not yet widely popular, so even the well-informed Geralt is only playing the game today.

No one could have imagined that this card game invented by dwarves would one day become a wildly popular gambling game that attracts countless fans worldwide.

Perhaps the efforts of Horton and his fellow dwarves played a part in this.

Half an hour later, the bearded dwarf Horton, who had been all smiles, no longer had the smile he had at the beginning.

He tugged at his red beard with a pang of regret. The more than one hundred ducats he had painstakingly won, along with his own savings of more than one hundred and fifty crowns, had all been moved to Wayne's side.

Not only that, his beloved pipe, gemstone ring, and the fine iron battle axe that had accompanied him in battle for decades also became Wayne's possessions.

Of course, Horton believes this is only temporary and he will win back his title soon.

No one expected that this young demon hunter, who just half an hour ago claimed that he didn't even know how to play Gwent and didn't even have his own deck, would win more than a dozen games in a row, leaving him, the strongest Gwent player in the camp, almost penniless.

Is this the legendary "pretending to be weak to catch a tiger" tactic?

However, Wayne's mind was not on him at the moment. After winning more than ten games in a row against Horton, he was surprised to find that a special skill had appeared on his professional skill.

Gwent LV1: Luck +1.

The simple introduction contains profound meaning.

It's important to know that this skill doesn't appear in the secondary skills section; rather, it's a core skill for Witchers, just like swordsmanship, signs, and mutation levels.

The effect it gave was an incredible increase in luck, which was quite surprising.

Could it be that Gwent is his main quest?

(End of this chapter)