"Hey, what's going on here? Has it been looted?" Ravens frowned, patted the dirt bed on the ground, and asked with a frown: "Do you really sleep in a place like this every day?
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"So, what else do you want to explain?" Art glanced at Ravens with contempt, and as usual, used the magic stone to ignite the flame. But this time it was Ravens who provided the magic stone, and Art didn't want to waste it.
There are only a few magic stones left in my own storage.
"Well, at least it can block the wind outside, and it's quite warm." Ravens was obviously a person who was afraid of the cold. As he spoke, he moved his butt forward, getting closer and closer to the fire pit.
Next to Ravens, there was a mess of sundries and weapons of varying quality.
These things were all collected from the robbers before, including hammers, hoes, etc. Of course, garbage such as wooden sticks had long been used as firewood, and most of what was left behind was worth a little money.
, ready to be sold. There are also some strange ornaments among them, but most of them have more symbolic meaning than practical meaning and are of no use. You still have to consider whether to sell them for money.
Speaking of eggs, Art took out a sandworm egg from Ravens' small bag on the ground.
"Want something to eat? Do you want my pot for you to use?" With that, Ravens was about to take off the soles of his shoes.
"No, no need! At least I still have a pot at home!" Art quickly refused, then pulled out a pot from under a stone slab, which was not a very big one.
This pot is made of a relatively low-quality, black iron and is quite heavy. Just pulling it out requires a lot of force.
"Forget it, let me help you." Ravens really couldn't stand it. Although this guy usually behaves like a child, in these physical tasks, children are children.
Compared with adults, especially witchers, they are simply inferior.
Ravens lifted the pot with one hand and easily placed it on the stand on the fire pit.
"Oh, thank you." Art also felt deeply that he was powerless. He couldn't build any muscles with his figure. It seemed that he could only think of other ways...
This pot is not deep, and there is the Qingshuihua River not far away. It is not difficult to fill it with water, but the spices are still quite expensive. Art also does not expect to be able to make one like Weima.
Omelettes are full of color and flavor, and just one boiled egg can satisfy his young stomach that has been polished by long-term hunger.
"This thing is indeed the same as an egg." Holding a hard-boiled egg that was almost half the size of his own head in both hands, Art took a bite on it and expressed his thoughts.
"So this is what nobles like: dangerous, but ordinary." Ravens also got himself a hard-boiled egg, but for his appetite, the egg was not big enough, so he
He casually took out a variety of wild fruits and vegetables from his pocket...
"When did you collect these things..." Looking at the fresh fruits and vegetables, Art asked with some confusion.
"I picked them along the way when I was on the road." Ravens said disapprovingly as he ate: "'Pick a little of whatever good things you see' is one of the necessary trainings for a witcher, and anyway, these things will be around for a few days.
It will grow again, so there is no need to feel bad. Do you want some?"
"Uh, forget it, I'm full." After finishing most of the boiled eggs, Art couldn't eat anymore. This thing was surprisingly filling.
After eating and drinking enough, Art felt a wave of sleepiness rushing into his heart. As a child, what he had experienced today was really too nerve-wracking.
"Are you sleepy?" Ravens noticed Art who was yawning and said, "The kid should sleep more. I'll keep watch."
"Well..." Art, who was feeling sleepy, didn't want to think too much. After instinctively replying, he lay down on the soil bed full of hard soil and fell asleep.
After years of squeezing, this soil bed has become extremely thick and dust-free. Although it is very hard, it is still much softer than ordinary stones. Even if I am used to soft pillows and quilts on earth, sleeping on it is difficult.
You won't feel too uncomfortable on this kind of soil bed.
When Art opened his eyes again, it was already dawn, and a dazzling light just passed through the gap in the roof and shone on Art's face.
"Are you awake? Good morning." Ravens was seen sitting on a wooden stool not far away, using a piece of cloth to maintain his silver sword.
That very cool silver sword shone like a flashbang in the sun. Art could tell at a glance that the feel and hardness of this thing were absolutely great.
"Good morning." Art rubbed his eyes and stretched before asking: "Did you not sleep last night?"
"Of course, witchers can stay awake all the time." Ravens responded in a normal way: "Because for us, sleeping is very likely to kill us."
Art wanted to refute something, but when he thought about what happened yesterday, he naturally closed his mouth.
"By the way, do you have any plans today?" After Ravens finished speaking, he put away his silver sword, leaned against the earthen wall behind him, and asked, "I'm quite free now."
"You're quite free? Then follow me to the street and sell those messy things." Art pointed at the pile of miscellaneous scraps behind him and said, "Then buy something else."
"Want to go to the market? Okay, yes, as long as you are not a woman, going to the market is acceptable." Ravens nodded as if he understood.
"Then come over and help." Art brought some rags from the corner of the room and wrapped the trophies bit by bit to prevent others from seeing them when they were holding them.
In the end, it was Ravens who carried the pile of debris wrapped in gray cloth and trudged to the shopping street.
It is still the opening time of the early morning market, the temperature is not low, and the vendors dare to let go of their throats and use their voices and intonations to engage in a sales duel.
But the place Art went to was not at these hawker stalls, but at the only blacksmith shop in Belag Town.
Firstly, it is convenient to sell these iron products, and secondly, Art is ready to exercise. During those months of intensive training, Art realized that blacksmithing is a very effective way of exercise.
In just two months of training, Art developed eight-pack abs and his arms became completely bigger. Although these beautiful things disappeared after time travel, at least he still remembered the skills of blacksmithing.
The blacksmith shop is deep in the commercial street. After walking for a long time, I finally found a hammer-shaped sign.
As soon as he entered the door, Ravens received a cordial greeting.
"Hey, isn't this the famous demon hunter who wants to come over and ruin our store's reputation?"
The speaker was a tall man with a full beard and a sturdy back... It was like this, but as he jumped to the side, his height suddenly shrunk by more than half...