First was Karl, who was now a household name in Vizima.
Martial Arts Tournament champion, hero who saved the princess, newly appointed baron heir—these titles made him the center of attention wherever he went.
When the guests recognized him, their faces showed surprise, awe, and even fawning expressions.
Many nodded to him and greeted him in hushed tones.
"Lord El."
"Congratulations, Sir Karl!"
However, when their gaze shifted to Geralt beside him, the atmosphere became subtle.
Those cat eyes and the two swords on his back were the most distinctive marks of a Witcher.
Immediately, some guests' eyes mixed with surprise, curiosity, and a trace of undisguised disgust and contempt, and low whispers followed.
"It's a freak..."
"How is he with Lord El?"
Almost all attention was focused on Karl, and Geralt seemed to become an insignificant accessory, intentionally or unintentionally ignored.
However, the waitresses in the tavern didn't have as many complex worldly prejudices as humans.
Their gazes lingered on Karl and Geralt, carrying a pure interest and a keen, almost predatory, sharpness.
Five young women, dressed in unified dresses that accentuated their graceful figures, immediately came forward enthusiastically.
Their smiles were charming and their movements naturally intimate.
"Welcome to the House of Night, distinguished sirs!"
The leading young woman with dark red long hair spoke sweetly and, without waiting for a reply, gently linked her arm with Karl's.
Another blonde young woman similarly and naturally drew close to Geralt.
They almost gently but irresistibly guided the two, half-coaxing, half-leading them towards a relatively secluded but well-situated booth.
During this process, their bodies inevitably brushed intimately against the two.
The soft touch and alluring perfume constantly stimulated their senses.
Karl could clearly feel the cool fingertips and unusual strength of the young woman who had linked her arm with his.
This made him even more certain of their identity as vampiric succubi.
After seating the two on comfortable cushions, the dark-red-haired vampiric succubus leaned forward, the view from her neckline subtly revealed.
She asked with a sweet smile, "Handsome sirs, what would you like to drink today?"
"We have the finest Toussaint wine brought from the south, and also local specialty spirits, oh~"
Karl's gaze, like a precise ruler, quickly swept over the view revealed as the dark-red-haired vampiric succubus leaned forward, then subtly shifted away.
He maintained a polite and indifferent smile on his face: "Two bottles of Toussaint wine first, please, thank you."
His voice was steady, showing no hint of emotion.
Toussaint wine?! Several guests, who had pricked up their ears, secretly gasped at the mention.
That was a top-tier vintage from the land of wine, an absolute luxury in this tavern.
A single bottle cost two silver coins, money that could support an ordinary family for several weeks.
This was simply incomparable to the malt beers or common sour wines that could be bought for three to five copper coins.
Upon hearing this, Geralt's cat eyes glanced at Karl, and a subtle curve appeared at the corner of his mouth.
He said to the waiting vampiric succubus, "Lady, I'll have three bottles of dwarven spirits."
He paused, seemingly deliberately teasing Karl: "I'm not some beautiful lady who needs ambience, nor will I be captivated by the charm of a certain baron's heir."
"Drinking wine in a tavern? That won't achieve the effect I'm looking for."
Karl understood in his heart that Geralt was making his point in his own way.
Maintaining appropriate sobriety in such a place was more important than enjoying fine wine.
Of course, Karl had originally thought the same; his choice of wine also had the meaning of tasting a famous local product.
But mainly, it was because wine had a relatively low alcohol content.
Especially in this environment, surrounded by vampiric succubi, which seemed alluring but could actually hide risks.
He needed to keep his mind clear, even if these vampiric succubi were currently behaving unusually docilely.
After the vampiric succubus noted their drink orders and left, Karl turned to look at Geralt.
He leaned slightly forward, lowering his voice to Geralt: "Come on, White Wolf, don't tell me you didn't notice anything."
Geralt's eyebrows twitched at the slightly teasing nickname, and the lazy expression on his face receded a little.
He also responded in a low voice, almost inaudible: "Noticed it as soon as we walked in. Heartbeats much slower and deeper than normal people."
"And, even through the air, I can feel an abnormal coolness in their body temperature. I didn't expect your perception to be so keen either." His amber pupils contracted slightly.
The two exchanged a knowing glance, both seeing vigilance in the other's eyes.
They appeared to be relaxing in the booth, but the Witcher's senses, enhanced by mutations,
and Karl's keen observational skills, were constantly scanning everything around them.
While waiting for their drinks, the gazes of the vampiric succubi moving through the tavern always swept over their table, intentionally or unintentionally.
But there was no obvious malice in their eyes; instead, they were full of curiosity, assessment, and a sense of eager excitement.
And the vast majority of this attention was focused on Karl.
His handsome appearance, his tall and straight figure, and especially the aura of "hero" and "nobleman" that now enveloped him.
It was like a huge magnet, attracting the attention of these non-human races.
A few bolder vampiric succubi even deliberately slowed their pace when passing their table.
Their waists swayed more noticeably, their skirts swished gracefully, and their eyes boldly met Karl's gaze.
Seeing him look over, they not only didn't shy away but instinctively puffed out their chests, making their already alluring curves even more prominent, as if silently showcasing themselves.
Their pale, delicate skin, glowing with a porcelain-like luster in the dim light, was completely different from human women.
Geralt saw all this and couldn't help but feel a little helpless; Karl's attractiveness seemed to transcend racial boundaries.
The behavior of these vampiric succubi was no different from that of lovesick maidens seeing their beloved, only more direct and bold.
He even noticed that when a few vampiric succubi approached Karl, their walking posture became somewhat unusual.
Their slender fingers would unconsciously twist their skirts, and their breathing would quicken slightly, clearly showing signs of arousal.
This made him, a "freak" Witcher who was scorned by ordinary people year-round, truly feel what it was like to be treated differently.
Before long, the drinks arrived, brought by the very same dark-red-haired vampiric succubus.
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