"ah!"

"It hurts so much."

"Mom...I'm going home."

The cry of despair and pain echoed in the cafeteria of the Demon Hunting School. Most of the demon hunters who had eaten a sumptuous dinner fell to the ground and rolled and moaned, making a wail of pain.

Only a very small number of trainee witch hunters can endure the pain in their belly like a knife with their steel will.

This is part of the witch hunter training, and the instructors of the school will regularly place herbs and monster flesh and blood into the students' food.

The purpose of the instructors to poison is to improve the resistance and tolerance of future witch hunters to poisons, but this method is simple and crude and has no technicality.

"It's really a group of cowards. The quality of the students is worse than that of each class, just a few snake heart grass."

A "iron can" with a particularly bloated figure looked at the ugly students in the cafeteria, and was very dissatisfied and his tone was full of disdain.

"Queen, this is how we all come here. The first time you ate Snake Heart Grass is not much better than them."

Hearing the complaint of "canned iron", an instructor responded with a smile. He immediately raised his hand and pointed to the black-haired boy who was still sitting at the wooden table. He was still eating in an orderly manner, and did not seem to notice the pain of the group of snakes in his abdominal cavity eroding his heart.

"Is Geralt? He is indeed very outstanding. He can be said to be the best among the students I have ever taught, but unfortunately, he came out of the slum."

Following the direction pointed by the instructor beside him, the "Iron Can" looked at the boy who was completely different from the people around him, and his tone was filled with regret.

"What's wrong with the slums? We witch hunters never see their origins."

"Stop messing around, Anthony, we witch hunters never value talent. Do you need to say how much advantage do those students from nobles and even royal families have compared to Geralt?"

"I can prepare the materials for him to get promotion."

The instructor named Anthony said with some dissatisfaction.

"You can prepare the first level for him and the second level for him, and then? Can you keep preparing for him? Give up, take care of yourself first."

Anthony was silent and silent. He looked at the boy who was eating big and even ran to the canteen window to ask for a meal, sighed and turned his head to leave.

He is obviously the best student in their witcher school, but because of his background, his future achievements may not be as good as those trash lying on the ground.

"It's really barbaric!"

Diapolo, who had controlled his body to adapt to the toxicity of the snake heart, swallowed the nutritious dinner in front of him. He glanced at the instructors who were observing him at a high place, and then lowered his head to continue eating.

Because of his outstanding performance at the Witch Hunter School, he often felt the regretful gazes from the eyes of the instructors, and he knew what the reason was.

The witch hunter is a profession with very low threshold and does not require high talent, but it means that there are particularly high requirements in other aspects.

The witch hunter needs to fight monsters and monsters, so he must have strength and body that is far beyond the mortals. A strong body comes from a ritual based on monsters and alchemy materials.

Whether the witch hunter is powerful depends basically on these "external objects". But at this time, it is caught in a cycle. If ordinary people want to become witch hunters, they must hunt monsters to obtain materials and hold rituals. But only witch hunters can hunt monsters that meet the ritual standards.

It is almost impossible to break the cycle by relying on ordinary people themselves, but for demon hunters with backgrounds, this is not a problem that needs to be worried. Money can solve these troubles.

"Those wizards can't spend time and prepare some practice methods that can be gradual for the witch hunter."

After dinner, Diapolo muttered with dissatisfaction that the profession of witch hunters was created by humans to fight against monsters.

The witches who created the witch hunter system were those rumored to have wisdom and power. Under the system they created, if the witch hunter wants to become stronger, they can only hunt with monsters.

The purpose of the meditation method that the witch hunter possesses is to quickly recover energy and recover physical injuries, and it has no effect of becoming stronger at all, which has criticized Diapolo.

However, it is not a big problem for Diapolo. Those experienced old witch hunters cannot break through the restrictions deliberately set by the wizards for them, but Diapolo can.

After all, Diapolo is also a dragon with inheritance and legendary power. From a high perspective, based on the body of humans in another world, he creates a breathing method that can slowly enhance all aspects of qualities, which is a matter of being able to capture it.

"Jerlock! Stop!"

Diapolo had already eaten and drank enough, and was about to go to the dormitory to continue to think about his meditation and breathing method, but shortly after he walked out of the cafeteria, he was stopped by a group of teenagers.

"Is there something wrong?"

Through a lot of food, the body was no different from that of ordinary people. Even taller and taller teenagers looked at these "little brats" with a faint face.

"What are you, a country bumpkin who has been in the slum, pretending to be in front of us?"

Hearing Diapolo's expression, the teenagers who stopped him looked quite unkind.

"If it's in my family's castle, I'd think you'd be dirty if you shine your shoes!"

A yellow-haired teenager with freckles on his face looked at his shirt, and the slum teenager who was out of place with them in any aspect, his tone was full of ridicule and belittlement.

"Did you stop me just to ask for a fight?"

The boy who was so provoked was still not angry, but wanted to laugh a little. But he controlled his smile and asked the group of ignorant guys in front of him with a gentle expression.

"Gelart, I'm here to warn you not to have any inappropriate thoughts about Cialis. She is not something like you can do to climb up." The leading boy faced Geralt, who was vaguely half apart, with his head high and arrogant.

"Who is Xiri?"

These words made Diapolo's face look inexplicable. He had no impression of the name at all. Of course, the guys in front of him had no impression of them either.

"Geralt, you a pariah, don't pretend for me. Do you think your posture can attract the attention of His Highness Cialis? Don't be foolish!"

"Your Highness? Oh, I remembered it."

Diapolo remembered that there was a woman among his classmates who was particularly noble and extremely rare among witch hunters, but what did this have to do with him?

"It's because of this that you stopped me. It's so boring!"

"Gealot, give it to me..."

Click ~

Accompanied by the slight sound of bone cracks, the young man who led the way to stop Diapolo was forced to take the air...
Chapter completed!