"Maybe it's because Ciri stayed in Eastern Han for a long time. The next time we passed through the World Gate, we didn't leave Earth.
However, it was more than three thousand years before Eastern Han when we arrived at Emperor Huang Xuanyuan's era.
When Ciri and I met the Dragon Queen for the third time, she was forging the Xuanyuan Sword for Emperor Huang Xuanyuan at the foot of Mount Shou.
Only three people could see her. Ciri, I, and a warlock called Guangchengzi.
She told us to take things as they come and help Emperor Huang Xuanyuan conquer the south of the river before leaving.
Hence, Ciri and I became the Yellow Emperor's generals. "
Geralt spoke excitedly, but the dwarf listened with a blank expression.
"Emperor Huang, Guangchengzi, who are they?"
"Legendary figures. If I hadn't transmigrated to Eastern Han, I wouldn't know how lucky I am, "Geralt said excitedly.
"What's lucky?" Tyrion couldn't understand.
"Sigh, you don't understand. That was the beginning of the Legendary Era."
The dwarf didn't understand the Demon Hunter's feelings, and only said perfunctorily, "After transmigrating through so many worlds and timelines, it's no wonder your mind is in a mess."
Two days later, they entered Aibin, one of the four major countries of the Nilfgaardian Empire in the south.
It was a coastal kingdom with rivers and lakes.
At the edge of a large lake called Stone Lake, Tyrion saw Melisandre and Geralt's three teammates.
Unexpectedly, he saw his "obedient grandson" Brandon again.
"You're Brandon … Why are you here?" the dwarf asked curiously.
"I was just passing by." Brandon had matured a lot. He looked like a handsome middle-aged man in his thirties. He was dressed like a Demon Hunter and carried a Demon Slayer Sword on his back.
His eyes had experienced the vicissitudes of life, his skin had become rough and dark, and he spoke in the common language of the other world with a local accent. He was definitely a native Demon Hunter.
Well, Demon Hunters would mutate after consuming the "Green Grass" potion. Silver hair was not uncommon.
In fact, Geralt and Ciri both had white hair. One was milky white, while the other was grayish white. Brandon's silver hair didn't stand out.
"You've become a Demon Hunter? I thought you went back to the Westeros. "The dwarf looked at him with a puzzled expression.
Demon hunters did not need to be castrated, but they would also lose their fertility.
"Sigh, I did go back, but my little brother king was too stingy. He didn't even want to give me an earldom. I didn't want to be bullied, so I came to the Demon Hunter world again, "Brandon said angrily.
"It's been more than a hundred years since the founding of the Seven Kingdoms. The territories of the Seven Kingdoms have long been scattered all over the place. How can there still be a Count for you?" The dwarf rolled his eyes at him.
"The throne should have been mine. Back then, I was the Grand Duke of the Wind Rest Fort. At least return the Wind Rest Fort to me," Bran said.
"Wind Stop Castle is similar to Dragonstone Island during Aegon's time. It belongs to the crown prince. If I give it to you, where will the crown prince go to train in the future?"
The dwarf glanced at the few people who were looking at him curiously and said impatiently, "Alright, let's not talk about the seven countries' royal families here. What level are you at now?"
"A Level Seven Sword Saint at the pinnacle of Level Seven. My wizard level is close to that of a Demigod. Coupled with the Demon Hunter's body modification and unique curses, most Sword Gods are no match for me," Bran said proudly.
"You even participated in the Trial of Grass (PS)? You really don't want children? "The dwarf was shocked.
"I don't even have a fief. What do I need an heir to? Moreover, I left behind a few illegitimate children in my early years. Now, even my grandson is preparing to get married, "Bran said proudly.
"F * ck!"
Geralt frowned and said, "Where did you come from? Why did you happen to pass by?"
"He wasn't invited by you?" The dwarf said in surprise.
"I was the one who invited Bran." Melisandre walked over and pointed at the few swordsmen in old armor behind Bran. She said, "I heard that Oxenford Academy is developing a perpetual motion machine. I was very curious and wanted to take a look.
However, I was surprised to see these unlucky scoundrels stripped naked and lying on a wooden stake at the academy's entrance. It wasn't convenient for me to make a move, so I found Bran who was slaying demons nearby. "
"You guys …" The dwarf carefully sized up the four armored swordsmen and felt that there was a familiar aura on them.
Suddenly, his expression changed and he said in surprise, "You guys are scholars? Are you stealing other people's technology again? "
The swordsmen had an awkward expression. "How can an exchange of knowledge between scholars be considered stealing?"
The dwarf was speechless.
In the past ten years, he had seen countless scholars who had their hands chopped off, sold to brothels, whipped, and … all kinds of suffering. They were all discovered, tortured, humiliated, and killed for stealing things, books, and technology.
In the beginning, he had saved a few of them and even advised them to try to exchange for something of equivalent value.
"We are poor! Without the kingdom's financial support, the precious books collected by our ancestors were taken away by the Dragon Queen a hundred years ago … Moreover, for the sake of truth and knowledge, we scholars are not afraid of death, "the scholars said.
After that, he no longer cared about them. After all, they were not afraid of death.
"What technology is it for this time?" The dwarf asked casually.
"A perpetual motion machine! Oxenford Academy is researching a perpetual motion machine and is about to succeed, "the bearded swordsman said excitedly.
"You are a scholar, but you don't even know the law of conservation of energy?" Tyrion snorted.
"In the Age of Magic, nothing is impossible. Scholars should base their knowledge on facts and not distort false delusions with their own will, "the scholar said unhappily.
"F * ck, these words should be heard by your elders from a hundred years ago," the dwarf complained.
"Stop arguing, Ciri is still waiting for us!" Geralt said.
"Let's formulate a battle strategy first," the dwarf looked around at everyone, "Tell me your abilities and weaknesses. The opponent is in the fortress, it's impossible to fight them alone. "
"I'm a Demon Hunter at the level of a Sword God, I can be an assaulter." Geralt turned to Bran, his gaze lingering on the Iron Griffin badge on his chest for a moment, "You're a Demon Hunter from the Griffin Sect?"
"Yes, I'm proficient in swordsmanship, Fire Witchcraft, and healing spells. I'm also very good at Demon Hunter Curses, I can be your second assaulter and assist you," Bran said.
The Demon Hunters in this world were divided into three factions. The neutral Wolf Faction only hunted demons and did not participate in any politics.
Geralt was the representative of the Wolf Faction.
The Griffin Sect, which advocated chivalry, paid attention to personal morality and cultivation, and did all noble things. Not only did they slay demons, but they also fought for justice and justice.
The Griffin Sect had a reserve of magical knowledge that even mages would drool over, and their Magic Seal techniques were far superior to the other two factions. It was also for this reason that Bran chose to join the Griffin Sect.
Not only him, but many knights and sons of warriors who traveled to the other world chose to join the Griffin Sect, which had the strongest educational resources and was in line with the teachings of the Seven Gods.
To the Demon Hunters of this world, the biggest weakness of the Griffin Sect was that they charged little for missions, and even worked for free.
But to the Knights of the other world, they did not care about gold.
Finally, there was the radical Cat Faction, they were notorious for accepting any job as long as they were paid. Also, because of the unique Grass Potion, when their bodies mutated, it was easy for them to develop extreme mental illnesses.
.....
Ciri was imprisoned in the Boulder Fortress on the cliff beside the Stone Lake.
The Source Warlock Vilgefortz had set up a perfect defense system in the castle, and outside, there were archers and iron shield soldiers led by the Sword Saint. Once they entered the castle, they encountered a large number of assassins and magic traps.
The battle was extremely tragic. Two of the four swordsmen were burned to ashes and could not be saved. The other one was accidentally sent to an unknown place by a teleportation spell. The helpers that Geralt brought were even more miserable. If not for the dwarf's healing spell, they would have been completely wiped out.
But in the end, they won.
Because of Aunt May's prophecy.
In her habitual prophecy at five o 'clock in the morning, she predicted the Source Warlock's killer move, a fatal magic formation that was enough to threaten everyone.
Then, she arranged for the dwarf, who had completed his dragonworm transformation, to block the fatal blow, creating the conditions for Geralt's counterattack.
It was basically a replica of the Battle of Winterfell, when she and Stannis helped Danny create a chance to kill the Deviant Ghost King.
Unlike Thanedd's coup, it was not the Source Warlock's home ground, and he could not pose a fatal threat to the red-robed woman. Because of this, the red-robed woman did not discover the coup in advance in her prophecy every morning.
This time, it was different, in his own nest, the Source Warlock had the ability to wipe out Geralt's rescue team.
"You called me here just to be a meat shield?" After the battle, the dwarf lay paralyzed on the floor of the underground hall, panting weakly.
"For the Holy Healing Spell. Although Prince Brandon is the direct descendant of the Dragon Queen, he is not a priest, he can only heal himself with the Targaryen's unique Dragontongue magic, "Aunt May said with a pale face.
She was not in a good condition either.
Source Warlocks were too strong, in the world of the Song of Ice and Fire, they were not inferior to powerful gods who had comprehended many Songs of Laws.
Other than the Songs of Laws, many Warlocks were stronger than demigods.
But Aunt May and Tyrion had not sung their own Songs of Laws.
"Thank you, thank you everyone for coming to save me … For me, so many people died." Ciri was grateful and guilty.
"For you, it's worth it no matter how many people die." Suddenly, a faint voice came from above.
"Who is it?" Bran turned around, his pupils constricting as he said in shock, "Am I seeing things? You —"
The underground hall was a huge circular laboratory built in the mountain, about two hundred square meters, the highest point of the dome was twelve meters, and there was a circular platform between the floor and the ceiling.
One could stand on the platform and observe the progress of the experiment below.
When the rescue team arrived, Ciri was tied to a chair that looked like it came from a magical science fiction.
The chair was connected to strange tubes and glass bottles, the surface of the bottles and tubes flashing with runes … This was a bloodline conversion device, invented by the Source Warlock, which could extract Ciri's ancient blood and fuse it into one's own body.
Ciri had her blood drawn many times over the past few days, but there was no strange magic in her blood that could change one's constitution.
The Source Warlock had been modifying the device recently, trying to exchange spinal fluid with Ciri, when Geralt's group charged in.
At this moment, the Source Warlock was lying in a bloody mess in the hall, everyone looked tired, sitting or standing, slowly recovering from their injuries. The experiment table, instruments, and fragments of bottles were scattered all over the floor.
On the observation deck on the second floor, a middle-aged man wearing a black, red sun leather armor and a flaming crown appeared silently.
The man looked dignified, and he had a dignified aura about him, but his expression was slightly gloomy.
"You —" Bran stammered as he looked at the man, his face full of disbelief.
"Prince Brandon, we meet again." The middle-aged man smiled faintly, his eyes flashing with murderous intent.
"Tony, or rather, Emperor Emhyr," Geralt's expression was gloomy, but he was not as shocked as Brandon. "I really hope that you are here to save Ciri, and not Vilgefortz's master, who is here to save the day."
"Vilgefortz is indeed my dog, but he's not very obedient, or we wouldn't be in this awkward situation," the emperor said flatly.
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