0Chapter 91: I'm Allergic to Green
However, as if she had thought of something, she glanced at Lynn, who was focused on enjoying his food, hesitated for a moment, and then said:
"If you're willing, you can come back to Vizima with me."
"King Foltest wouldn't mind paying an extra guard's salary for his royal advisor."
Triss's implication was very clear.
Whether to eat and sleep in the open air or to follow a royal advisor and enjoy good food and drink was a choice anyone could make.
However...
Lynn had already devoured the bread and roasted meat on his plate like a whirlwind.
He picked up a napkin and elegantly wiped the corners of his mouth like a nobleman.
"Thank you for your kindness, I appreciate it."
It was impossible for Lynn to be tied down by Triss.
Because he knew very well what would happen in the future.
If he didn't make changes, not only the members of the Wolf School but even the sorceress before him would be caught in the storm.
He couldn't knowingly let danger approach without doing anything.
In another timeline, the seemingly perfect ending was actually just the final banquet before the breakup.
The reason why the members of the Wolf School returned to Kaer Morhen every year wasn't because Kaer Morhen itself had any magic.
What was there to cherish about a pile of faded rubble?
It was purely because Kaer Morhen had Vesemir.
Where Vesemir was, that was the Wolf School's home.
Therefore, when that event happened in the future, the Wolf School would eventually go their separate ways, just like the other witcher schools.
And this was precisely what Lynn couldn't tolerate.
Triss was a very intelligent woman.
She glanced at Lynn and didn't try to persuade him further.
"If you plan to stay in Novigrad for a while longer, you can use this house. I've already paid half a year's rent in advance."
"As for the remaining balance I promised you, I need a little time. I'll return to this house in a week."
Lynn naturally wasn't worried that she would renege on her debt.
In this day and age, most sorcerers were still very wealthy and wouldn't refuse to pay a witcher such a small amount.
Especially since this was Triss.
"Take this. It's called a communicator. It can transmit a person's voice thousands of miles away, as long as it's not interfered with by magic..."
"You can use it to contact me when you need to; I will also contact you proactively with it when I have your reward ready."
"Don't get yourself killed, don't foolishly throw away your life, promise me, okay?"
Gazing at the sorceress's beautiful and delicate face, Lynn also nodded solemnly. "I promise you, Triss."
"Alright," a smile appeared on Triss's face. "Are you full? Now get to bed for me." "What's with that expression? Haven't you heard the rumors about sorceresses?"
...
Two days later, Lynn led his horse out of the inn and into Triss's house.
Apart from Nidhogg, he had no other luggage.
Bringing the horse over meant he had officially moved in.
Standing in the empty house, he suddenly thought of a problem.
Triss was one thing.
After all, she knew magic.
But living in such a big house by himself, just cleaning and grocery shopping would be another issue.
Honestly, he didn't really like doing housework. Especially when he was living alone.
So, after thinking about it, he rode Nidhogg to Vivaldi Bank.
He and Vimme Vivaldi were already old acquaintances.
The bank clerk saw him and, while arranging for someone to take his prized horse to the stables, skillfully invited him to the VIP room.
After he finished the second cup of tea that the clerk had handed him, Vimme's characteristic booming voice rang out from outside the VIP room door.
"Ah, Master Lynn, my friend! It's been quite a while! Where have you been making your fortune lately?"
Lynn smiled, stood up from the sofa, and shook hands with the dwarven banker.
"Lord Vimme is joking. A witcher's identity is destined to be incompatible with wealth. Doing contracts here, killing a couple of monsters there."
Vimme laughed heartily.
"Master Lynn, don't say that. You're the youngest and most promising witcher master I've ever seen. I can't vouch for other witchers, but Master Lynn will definitely not be confined to the ordinary."
The two sat down, and then the witcher said,
"Thank you for your blessings," he paused and continued, "Lord Vimme, I know you're busy, so I won't waste your time. Let's get straight to the point."
"I've come this time hoping you can arrange one or two servants specifically to do housework for me. Not for long, just a short-term contract for now will do."
Vimme stroked his beard and said in a booming voice,
"Servants? You see what I just said? I've never seen a witcher who needs servants to wait on him. Of course, I don't mean to be sarcastic, please don't take it to heart, Master Lynn."
"You've come to the right person. Although I don't specialize in the labor market, it's no problem for me to inquire for you. I guarantee I can find someone who will satisfy you."
"However, Master, do you have any special requirements?" Saying this, the dwarven banker winked at Lynn.
"Special requirements?" The witcher didn't understand Vimme's hint.
"Well," Vimme coughed, "besides the regular job requirements, do you need any additional items? For example... someone to warm your bed?"
Lynn understood now.
"No, as long as they are diligent, honest, and don't steal."
"If that's the case, I understand. Please wait a moment."
Vimme pressed the butler's bell on the table.
A dwarven attendant came in from outside, and Vimme whispered a few words to him.
But not in the common tongue, but in dwarvish.
The dwarven attendant nodded and left the VIP room.
Not long after, he returned with a small, dirty figure.
The little one's hair and skin were as white as snow. She had beautiful ruby-like eyes but was thin and bony, looking about ten years old. When Lynn's gaze swept over, the little one subconsciously hid behind the dwarven attendant.
Only her pointed ears were visible.
"Come here, let me introduce you. If there are no surprises, this Master Lynn will be your new employer."
Vimme said to the little girl, pointing at the witcher.
"Lo... Lord."
Even after hearing Vimme's words, the little girl didn't dare to come out from behind the dwarven attendant. Only her soft, cute, trembling voice could be heard.
"Lord Vimme, this is..."
Lynn looked at the dwarven banker with some confusion.
He couldn't help but wonder if the other party had misunderstood his meaning.
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