"Your Witcher!"
Hearing Francesca Findabair's teasing words, a faint blush unconsciously appeared on Valesa's face.
She opened her mouth to refute her relationship with Guilliman, but facing the Queen's meaningful expression, she turned her head away somewhat guiltily, not daring to speak up.
Although this Lady Queen looked to be only about twenty years old.
Francesca Findabair was actually born hundreds of years ago, in an era when humans and elves were still engaged in a cruel war.
She was born in war, and in war, she witnessed the rise of humanity and the decline of the elven race.
Including Valesa, many descendants of the elven race were watched by this Queen as they grew up.
To say she was an elder to many elves, even of the grandfather or ancestor generation, would not be an exaggeration.
Of course, this Lady Queen would certainly never admit to that; even though her lifespan spanned several centuries and she had witnessed countless births and Deaths, she still considered herself just a young girl, a pure elven maiden.
While human sorcerers have limited lifespans, even among all the sorcerers currently existing in the entire sorcerer world, this Elven Queen is one of the longest-living.
Once, Ida Emean aep Sivney, an elven Sage who transcended the mortal stratum, said that Francesca's talent was extraordinary, far exceeding ordinary mortals, and that she was the sorceress most likely to become a Sage among the Aen Seidhe elves in the last thousand years.
This was an extremely high evaluation; even during their peak when the population exceeded hundreds of millions, the number of elven Sages was less than ten.
Each existing elven Sage is an old monster who has lived for over ten thousand years; the life and Death of ordinary people, or even the rise and fall of races, are nothing more than normal successions in the eyes of these elven Sages.
Only when a race faces true existential peril will these transcendent super-powerhouses take action to save their people.
Watching her most trusted captain of the guard show such a girlish, shy expression.
Francesca suddenly found it quite amusing, and much of the gloom that had been weighing on her heart these past few days dissipated.
She toyed with her long, dark-gold hair with her fingers, a relaxed and breathtaking smile appearing on her face.
After reminiscing for a few seconds, Francesca reached into her waist pouch, took out a crystal bottle filled with a solution like purple mist, handed it to Valesa, and said with a smile:
"This is the highest grade of love potion, said to be brewed using succubus blood as the primary ingredient."
"Just spray it on your body, and it will enhance a woman's charm for a certain period, making a man infatuated with you, mentally excited, in a lasting state, and restless all night long."
"It can also make your skin more supple, smooth, and vibrant, maintaining a youthful state for a long time; it's an excellent beauty medicine."
"If you were to sell it to those great human noblewomen, you could even trade it for a residence in a kingdom's capital or a vast sum of wealth."
"Take it, consider it a reward from me for this period of time."
"It should be able to solve your current troubles."
Clearly Valesa hadn't said anything, but Francesca acted as if she knew everything.
Powerful sorcerers can use magic like mind-reading to observe the thoughts of ordinary people through the fluctuations of Chaos magic.
If one's own mental strength isn't powerful enough and they lack mental defense measures, an ordinary person's mind is almost defenseless before a powerful sorcerer.
Valesa wasn't surprised that her thoughts were seen through by the Queen; clearly, this kind of thing had happened before.
Just as she was staring at that bottle of love potion, which was obviously high-end goods, hesitating whether to take it.
Francesca, however, was a superior who distinguished clearly between rewards and punishments and knew how to win over subordinates; she firmly pressed the potion into Valesa's hand and didn't forget to add:
"Don't forget the task I assigned to you."
"Before that Witcher leaves the village, arrange for him to meet with me."
"You can tell him my identity, and say I have some very profitable commissions that can be given to him to complete."
"I can also help him complete some commissions that are difficult for him to achieve."
"He seems like a smart man; I presume he won't refuse."
...Time passed quickly, and in the blink of an eye, Guilliman had been living in Ammonite Village for over half a month.
The Viper School's high-grade Witcher leather armor had been completed, with Valesa personally overseeing the forging and many excellent elven craftsmen assisting; it could be said to be full of sincerity.
This was a set of high-grade leather armor, dark brown in color, weighing up to fifteen kilograms, with vital areas encased in armor plates made of refined steel; it was worthy of being called a master-level work.
Because its primary raw material came from thick-skinned adult Wyverns, configured with triple-layered armor, it reached a thickness of two centimeters.
So while this armor was slightly heavier than ordinary thick leather armor, its defensive power and flexibility far exceeded military-grade standard equipment.
Even an ordinary hand crossbow could only leave a visible dent on the outermost layer of this leather armor, unable to penetrate it.
And even the pitchfork, known as the Witcher-killer, would find it difficult to break through this armor's defense even if it scored a direct hit, causing only some superficial wounds.
Back then, if Geralt had been wearing this armor, he wouldn't have been heavily wounded by a pitchfork, but would have gone on a rampage among the mob.
Although it couldn't defend against those powerful attacks, such as ballistae, siege engines, heavy crossbows, or the attacks of giant monsters like Fiends or Minotaurs.
In the face of ordinary combat, this armor possessed an overwhelming advantage.
It could be considered to have filled one of Guilliman's shortcomings, making him no longer so fragile.
However, obtaining such an excellent piece of core equipment did not make Guilliman happy; instead, he remained quite depressed.
This was because the previous period of romantic indulgence and frequent exertion had left his mind and body in a withered state, lacking energy.
He even seemed to have lost interest in his favorite nighttime activities.
Every night, holding the perfect body of the elven beauty Valesa, he could only use his mouth to nibble, his hands to touch, and his tongue to lick, unable to engage in the real thing.
For Guilliman, who considered himself a top-tier alpha male, this was a fatal blow that almost caused him to fall into depression.
With no choice, since he couldn't do the happy things, he could only focus his energy on learning Witcher skills.
During this time, almost from morning till night, from day till dark.
Whenever he had time, he was practicing the Wolf School Witcher skills he had learned from Berengar, studying the secrets of swordsmanship, memorizing Witcher monster lore, and practicing Witcher signs.
Perhaps because of his special King of Witchers physique, Guilliman was quite adept at learning these skills; he needed almost no preparation to get the hang of them quickly and perform them convincingly.
Finally, after a week of his tireless efforts, his system panel finally reacted, popping up a series of messages.
Ding! Learned [Wolf School Swordsmanship] Entry-level.
Ding! Learned [Quen Sign] Entry-level.
Ding! Learned [Yrden Sign] Entry-level.
Ding! Learned [Axii Sign] Entry-level.