Geralt and Barton

In another part of the Wolfgang Estate, in Duke Geralt’s study.

Geralt von Wolfgang sat in his high-backed armchair, a symbol of power, holding a glass of spirits, staring intently at the person sitting opposite him.

Barton Anvil, the president of the Adventurers’ Association, was sitting somewhat disheveled in a relatively simple hardwood chair.

He was still wearing his old military leather armor, but next to the hideous scar on his face, the area around his left eye was obviously bruised and swollen, now barely able to open a slit.

“Hiss…”

Barton grimaced, carefully applying a towel soaked in ice water to his swollen left eye, while his other hand picked up the glass on the table and took a big gulp, letting out a satisfied sigh.

“…Your ‘Lionheart’ is still strong enough, the watered-down horse urine in the association’s warehouse is undrinkable!”

Geralt didn’t pick up on the alcohol topic, his eyes fell on Barton’s ridiculous and miserable left eye, his tone a little gloating.

“A little too heavy-handed? I thought you knew my temper.”

Barton put down the ice towel, the swollen eye trying to open a slit, glaring at Geralt unhappily.

“Temper? You’re just protecting your calf!”

“I just… took a little ‘care’ of their admission test difficulty as you said! Who knew your son had such ‘good’ luck, drawing that fiend Grolm! Besides, they all came back in one piece, didn’t they? They even brought back the old bull’s horns! Even that golden-haired little dragon girl passed the assessment together!”

“A little ‘care’?”

Geralt snorted coldly.

“Grolm Broken-Horn, former vanguard officer of the Demon King’s ‘Furyhoof Legion’, C+? When did you, Barton Anvil, become so lenient in assessing danger levels? That thing’s strength, placed on our battlefield back then, was enough to break an entire infantry squad!”

“You sent three greenhorns who hadn’t even seen much blood to deal with it? (At least, that’s how Geralt saw Xia Ya)”

“If it weren’t for that child Beilixiya…” He paused, not continuing, but the displeasure in his eyes was obvious.

“Hey! Doesn’t this just show that your son has a good eye?”

Barton tried to argue, taking another gulp of wine, but it involved the wound on his face, causing him to grimace in pain.

“That dragon-kin girl was picked up by your son when he was a kid, right? Tsk tsk, you found a treasure! That skill, that power control, and that sword… what’s it called, Wrath of the Stars? Big spender, old buddy! The ore to make that sword… Starglimmer Ore, right? You were really willing to make such a big sword for a maid?”

Geralt did not deny it, but said lightly: “Resources are used where they are needed, Beilixiya is worth it.”

“What you said about that golden-haired dragon-kin, Tikona Flame? What’s her background? I see she and Beilixiya seem…”

“That little girl?”

Barton put down his glass, rubbed his swollen eye socket, his expression a little serious.

“Her background is a bit troublesome. She’s a survivor of the ‘Scorched Scales’ lineage, hiding in the rat’s nest of ‘Rustwater Lane’ in the South District with an even younger sister. ‘Scorched Scales’… you understand, that dragon slaughter back then… was deeply involved. She has a lot of trouble on her body. It was purely accidental that she ran into your son and them this time. But that little girl’s talent is indeed amazing, the purity of the Gold Dragon bloodline is very high, it’s just that her nature is too wild, like a firecracker.”

“‘Scorched Scales’…”

Geralt frowned.

“This kind of legacy issue is indeed troublesome. Pay more attention, don’t let her bring trouble to my two little ones.”

He was referring to Xia Ya and Beilixiya.

“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.” Barton nodded, then his face showed that familiar, calculating smile again, “But, old buddy, speaking of your two little ones… besides freeloading your wine, I have a real matter to discuss this time.”

Geralt indicated for him to continue.

Barton leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice.

“You know, the Royal Academy invites our association every year to do a ‘career guidance’ and ‘combat promotion’, encouraging those talented noble seeds to consider becoming adventurers after graduation, or joining the army, the Magician’s Association, or something.”

“In the past, it was our old guys or intermediate adventurers who went through the motions, and the effect… was just so-so.”

“But this year, I want to do something different, let young people go! Let people with impact and topicality go! Think about it, two young adventurers from top noble families (Beilixiya’s registered identity in the association is von Wolfgang, equivalent to a family member), with strong strength and tacit cooperation, one of whom is an extremely rare dragon-kin! This combination standing in the academy square, the effect is absolutely explosive! A hundred times stronger than us old guys wearing out our lips!”

“You want Xia Ya and Beilixiya to go?”

“Yes!” Barton slapped his thigh hard, almost reopening the wound as a result.

“It’s them! Newly minted Bronze-level adventurers, just completed a ‘slightly’ difficult assessment mission! What great promotional material! Absolutely able to ignite the enthusiasm of those little rabbits! And…”

He smiled slyly.

“It’s not without benefits for your son, either, promote his face in the academy in advance, he will inherit your position in the future, he can’t let his reputation lag behind, wouldn’t you say?”

Geralt was silent.

He slowly turned the glass in his hand, the ice cubes making a subtle collision sound.

Let Xia Ya and Beilixiya go to the Royal Academy… the place that gathers the kingdom’s future elites…

Xia Ya’s reputation is no secret there, let him go to “promote”?

It would be good if he didn’t ruin the show.

But Barton’s words were not without reason.

This was indeed an opportunity to reverse Xia Ya’s bad image among the mainstream elite class (especially the younger generation).

Moreover, with the strength and potential that Beilixiya is showing now, it is enough to shock and attract many people.

Perhaps… this is also a display of power?

“The academy… when is it?”

“Early next month, after the Autumn Hunting Festival.”

Barton replied immediately, his eyes flashing with anticipation.

“Old buddy, consider it? This is good for the association, and for your kid!”

Geralt did not answer immediately.

He stood up and walked to the huge floor-to-ceiling window, looking at the deep night outside the window and the scattered lights in the manor.

The lights in Xia Ya’s room seemed to be still on.

“This matter… I will consider it.”

Geralt turned his back to Barton, “You clean up your face first, don’t scare the little girls in the association tomorrow.”

Barton chuckled, knowing that this matter had a chance, he didn’t say more, comfortably leaned back in his chair, picked up the wine bottle and poured himself another glass.

“Okay! Then I’ll wait for your good news! Come, drink! We won’t go home until we’re drunk tonight… hiss~ my eyes still hurt!”