Wizard: This witcher is neglecting his duties.

Chapter 64 Werewolves

Seeing Wayne's confidence, Deacon Ozk said nothing more and quickly led the Witcher to the vicinity of the three missing lumberjacks' work site.

This is not a special place; it's just an ordinary clearing on the edge of the forest. However, compared to other loggers' workstations, this location is much deeper into the forest.

Perhaps that's why they disappeared.

Upon arriving at the scene of the crime, Wayne immediately held his breath and began searching for clues in the surrounding area, using his keen witcher's senses.

He initially thought it would be some kind of unsolved mystery, but in less than ten minutes, he used his sense of smell and sight to find several scattered logging axes in the grass not far away, as well as some messy footprints on the ground.

Meanwhile, the fresh bloodstains on the ground were stimulating his sense of smell.

Wayne leaned closer and sniffed. Apart from the stench of evaporating sweat, there was only a cloying, rusty smell.

It was human blood, but not much. Clearly, some of the loggers had been killed or injured.

Instead of rushing to follow the trail of blood to find the lumberjacks, Wayne squatted down and carefully examined the messy footprints.

Soon, he discovered something amiss in the footprints: the four-toed, deep indentations, resembling the enormous footprints of a large, ferocious beast, which dispelled Wayne's suspicions of a bear or wolf.

Standing to the side, Ozk saw the footprints, larger than a human palm and deeply embedded in the ground, and realized that the attack on the lumberjacks was by a huge, ferocious monster.

He couldn't help but ask with some concern:

"Mr. Wayne, can you tell what kind of monster it is?"

Wayne stroked his smooth chin, recalling what he had learned from Kaer Mohammed, and said with certainty:

"It was a werewolf that attacked them, but I'm a little curious, what was the werewolf's reason for attacking them?"

"Logically speaking, you lumberjacks who have just arrived here should have no connection with these cursed creatures."

Ozk obviously didn't know what werewolves were. He was a trusted confidant who came here from the Southern Kingdom with Revaden. He had only heard that various monsters roamed the North, but he had never actually seen any of them.

The middle-aged deacon murmured "werewolf," and then said:

"Mr. Wayne, are you confident you can locate this werewolf?"

"Should we go to the city and notify the guards to come and kill it?"

Upon hearing this, Wayne glanced at the naive Southerner with amusement. Not to mention that the guards in the northern cities basically wouldn't pay attention to what was happening outside the city.

Even if the city hall made a blunder, under pressure from the wealthy businessman Revarden, they still sent out a squad of guards.

With its towering 2.5-meter-tall, strong physique, sharp claws capable of tearing through ordinary chainmail, and powerful regenerative abilities that ignore ordinary damage, the werewolf possesses incredible resilience.

Even if all the guards were equipped with silver weapons, unless they were all fearless warriors, they could only leave a few scars on the werewolves at most.

It's important to understand that werewolves are not mindless water sprites. Even many novice witchers die at the hands of these cunning and vicious cursed monsters.

This is understandable, as the system will give an expert-level rating for the task.

Fortunately, he had a magic-patterned storage bag on him, containing all the magic potions, bombs, and cursed sword oil he needed to deal with werewolves.

Now, with the master-crafted silver sword forged by O. Henry, Wayne is confident he can handle an ordinary werewolf.

He stood up and said to Deacon Ozk:

"Deacon Ozk, werewolves are terrifying monsters transformed from cursed humans. You'd better not scatter and enter the forest until I return."

"I don't want to find out how many more lives have been lost when I come back."

Ozk dared not be negligent towards this monster expert whom his boss, Revaden, had praised, and immediately nodded and said:

"Okay, Mr. Wayne, I'll arrange for the lumberjacks to gather together today to handle the work that doesn't require them to go into the forest."

"However, please be careful. You are the boss's friend. If something happens, the boss won't let me off the hook."

Wayne nodded, considering the inconvenience of entering the forest to search for clues, and entrusted his mount Lucifer to Ozk's care.

Without any further pleasantries, Wayne immediately got to work.

He followed the scent of blood and the footprints all the way into the forest.

Clearly, this werewolf had no experience in counter-tracking. Perhaps he never thought of concealing his tracks, nor did he expect anyone to track him down based on them.

About an hour later, Wayne, relying on his superhuman senses, crossed the edge of the forest and arrived at a hunter's cabin far from the town of Vizima.

Based on the smell of blood and footprints, Wayne determined that the injured lumberjack and the werewolf had entered the hut about half an hour earlier.

I just don't know what the current situation is?

However, Wayne did not rush into the house to investigate. Instead, he sat down cross-legged in a secluded patch of grass outside the cabin.

He took out his magic-patterned storage bag, which he kept close to his body, and carefully took out three bottles of potions, a bottle of sword oil, and three alchemical bombs.

These are the Thunder Potion, which increases strength and damage; the Swallow Potion, which heals injuries; and the Patrice's Elixir, which enhances the damage of Signs.

It wasn't that Wayne didn't want to give more; it was just that although his mutation level had reached level four, drinking three bottles of Witcher potions at the same time was his current limit.

Drinking another bottle would only put a strain on his body.

However, his level four proficiency is already close to its peak. In about half a month, his mutation level will reach level five and he will unlock a professional specialty skill.

Presumably, by then, he will be able to withstand another bottle of potion and gain significant enhancements in other areas.

Enduring the nauseating taste of the three potions—which resembled rotten mud and dog excrement, as well as the cloying sweetness of lard—Wayne closed his eyes and quickly drank them down.

During the brief meditation, his body quickly received a powerful boost under the influence of the potion.

The most obvious effect was the Thunder Potion. Wayne felt his strength had been enhanced by about 50%, his muscles were bulging, and even his sense of pain had been weakened by the increased strength.

He drew his master-grade silver sword from his waist, carefully applied a bottle of cursed sword oil to the blade, and hid the other steel sword and its scabbard in the grass.

This is a necessary action. Real combat is not like a game. An extra steel sword and scabbard will not only be useless in the battle, but will also affect his dodging and attack.

Only after all the preparations for the battle were complete did Wayne take a deep breath, emerge from the hidden bushes, and arrive at the main entrance of the hunter's hut.

It would be unwise for him to rush into the cramped hut and fight a huge, thick-skinned monster in such a confined space.

Instead, he shouted:

"Werewolf in the house, you've been exposed."

"I am a demon hunter, and I came here specifically to deal with you. If you have anything else to say, you can come out and talk to me."

This shout was both to lure the monster out of the house and because Wayne really wanted to know.

Why would this cursed werewolf travel an hour to a logging camp to attack complete strangers?

There was little sound inside the room, but Wayne's keen hearing allowed him to hear a creature with heavy breathing approach the door after he called out.

Wayne could even see the thick gray hair on the tall figure through the narrow crack in the door.

Just when Wayne thought that this werewolf might be the type who lost his mind due to anger and couldn't speak.

A hoarse, angry roar, like that of a wild beast, came from the doorway.

"Witchers, I've heard your legends. You are the legendary monster slayers."

"However, this is none of your business. I am acting for revenge."

"My wife Paula died in the forest, naked and covered in wounds, her blood staining the ground."

"When I found her, she was on the verge of death. She told me that she had been gang-raped by several lumberjacks."

"She is the person I love most, and she doesn't even mind that I am a werewolf. I must avenge her."

(End of this chapter)