"Hopefully, your 'body' will still be able to maintain that confidence in the face of a dragon's breath."
With these words, he looked away from Karl, as if staying another second would lower his standards.
He hurriedly urged his horse away from this "foolish" megalomaniac,
returning to the adventurers in the group who seemed more ordinary and knew how to use equipment and magic to protect themselves.
Karl watched Dorregaray's departing back, smiled indifferently, and continued riding unhurriedly, as if that episode had never happened.
A barely perceptible playfulness flickered deep in his blue eyes.
This dragon hunt trip seemed more interesting than he had imagined.
Dorregaray, stomach full of disapproval for the arrogant young man, had fallen right into Karl's hands.
Speeding up his horse, he naturally approached the two other professionals in the team who seemed more worthy of conversation, Yennefer and Geralt.
His gaze first fell on Yennefer, sensing the Chaos magic fluctuations around her that were deliberately suppressed but still couldn't be completely hidden.
He raised his brows and asked almost affirmatively: "This lady, are you also a sorceress?"
Yennefer was not surprised to be recognized; she turned her head slightly, the corners of her mouth curling into a slightly arrogant smile.
"Don't I look like one?" Her voice was languid, as if it were an insignificant matter.
Dorregaray paused for a moment, not answering her rhetorical question, as if talking to himself or questioning directly.
He looked at Yennefer with a sharp gaze: "Almost everyone here is here for the wealth to be shared after a successful dragon hunt, or for the reputation of dragon slayer to be passed down to future generations."
"And you? A beautiful and powerful sorceress like you wouldn't be short of money or ordinary reputation." He deliberately paused on "beautiful," his gaze scrutinizing.
"Why would you join this dangerous hunt?"
Yennefer's eyes flickered almost imperceptibly—she had already prepared a standard answer for such questions.
In a tone that matched the public's expectations and was full of responsibility, she said: "Dragons, these creatures, must be destroyed."
"They possess wisdom beyond our imagination, and contempt for humanity, and can burn down an entire city with their flames in a few breaths."
"They are the true and potential enemies of all humanity, and it is the responsibility of everyone capable of eliminating the threat."
As soon as these high-sounding words were spoken, an undisguised sneer immediately appeared on Dorregaray's face.
He squeezed two clear words through his teeth: "Hypocrisy!"
With that, he didn't even look at Yennefer again, as if staying another second would offend his eyesight.
He directly pulled the reins, urged his horse to speed up, and again distanced himself from the two men, trotting towards the front of the line.
He was probably looking for other like-minded peers, or at least those who seemed less "hypocritical."
Yennefer's face instantly darkened; she pursed her lips tightly, and anger boiled in her violet eyes.
At that moment, Geralt, who had been silently observing, looked at Dorregaray's distant back.
He turned his head and said to Yennefer in his slightly hoarse and straightforward voice: "Yen, what you just said..."
"Sounds... indeed doesn't match your true inner thoughts."
He knew Yennefer; she might have a side that protected order.
But she was by no means someone who would risk her life for an empty concept like "humanity."
Her motivations were often more personal and self-interested.
Yennefer was furious, and Geralt's "correction" of her like this immediately made her glare at him and let out a vicious, cold snort through her nose.
She simply turned her face away, silently expressing her displeasure, and refused to communicate with him further on this topic.
In this slightly awkward atmosphere, a small commotion came from the rear of the team.
Another group of people had joined this growing dragon hunt team.
Among the newcomers, the most conspicuous was a middle-aged man with thick, curly chestnut hair, a determined face, and a sharp, somewhat frivolous gaze.
He was unarmed and dressed in a simple cotton robe and a dark brown tunic.
On his clothes, a coat of arms with a black border on a yellow background was clearly visible.
Three black birds stood side by side on it, and he wore a pair of practical riding boots on his feet.
Even more striking were the two Zerrikanian girls following him.
They had long black hair, almond-shaped eyes, bronze skin, and their eyes were alert, clearly skilled guards.
The middle-aged man's eyes swept down the line and soon stopped on the white-haired, cat-eyed Geralt, dressed in Witcher gear, ahead.
A sincere and familiar smile immediately appeared on his face; he greeted the Zerrikanian girl beside him and urged his horse straight towards Geralt.
Karl also noticed the new trio, and the corners of his mouth lifted slightly, revealing a knowing smile.
It seemed the main characters of this hunting expedition were almost all here.
He didn't intend to talk to the other party, but still kept a certain distance and watched with interest.
"Geralt! Good to see you again!" The middle-aged man's voice was loud, with a bold spirit.
Geralt turned his head at the sound, surprise and a little joy flickering in his cat-like pupils, and he called out: "Borch? My friend, you are here too?"
The middle-aged man, named Borch, smiled and urged his horse forward, riding alongside Geralt: "Of course, Geralt."
"You know my position; I never approve of this hunting of ancient, intelligent creatures."
"Therefore, I will do my best to prevent a tragedy, whether it be human or dragon."
Just as the old friends wanted to continue their conversation, to catch up or discuss the "tragedy" of the dragon in detail, a sudden change occurred.
From the mountain beside the team, a loud rumble suddenly sounded.
The earth and loose rocks covering it lost their restraint and rolled down with a roar, filled with smoke and dust.
"Landslide! Quick! Cross the bridge!"
"If you don't want to be buried alive, hurry up!"
Immediately, someone in the line shouted hoarsely, and panic spread like the plague.
When the front of the team heard the news, their faces turned pale with fear, and they desperately whipped their horses, all rushing forward.
The wooden suspension bridge, connecting the two sides of the canyon and looking somewhat old, let out a teeth-grinding groan and shook violently.
And when it was Yennefer and Geralt's turn to cross, another accident occurred.
The wooden bridge, already overburdened and instantly overloaded due to a malfunction, suddenly broke its support point.