I'm not a Witcher anymore.

When Zig woke up, the fire in the stove was burning brightly.

The flames licked the black charcoal, crackling and warming the entire stone house.

This is the accommodation specially arranged for guests in Tanshan. The walls are thick and the doors and windows are airtight, keeping out even the mountain winds at night.

Breakfast was laid out on the table.

The hot soup was served in a rough earthenware bowl, with slices of rye bread, several pieces of roasted meat, and a jug of dwarf liquor beside it.

The aroma of meat mingled with the smoke from the furnace, washing away the stench of decay that had been lingering in Zig's nose for the past few days.

They have been resting here for three days.

Since the old mine tunnel beneath Gray Ridge was cleared, the dwarves have settled them in this stone house. Food, hot water, and clean clothes are delivered to them every day on time.

If you need anything else, just have the waiter at the door say a word, and someone will bring it to you immediately.

This is very much in line with the nature of dwarves.

Honest and thoughtful, without saying a single unnecessary word.

Zoltan has not been in the stone house these past few days.

He went home to see his father and several old friends he hadn't seen in years, with whom he had fought in the Second Nilfgaardian War. When he returned, he reeked of alcohol, and his beard smelled of tobacco.

Dandelion considered these three days as compensation bestowed upon the poet by the goddess Meritelli. Apart from eating and complaining that the bed in Mahakam was too hard, he slept most of the time, with even his lute quietly placed beside him.

Saqia, on the other hand, mostly rested by the window.

Unlike Dandelion, who, despite having removed part of her armor, always kept her greatsword within easy reach.

As Zig organized her equipment, she could occasionally be seen gazing into the depths of the carbon mountain. The firelight from the furnaces and mines reflected in her eyes, like a dark red galaxy surrounded by rocks.

Of course, Zieg himself didn't have any free time.

The old mine tunnels consumed a lot of resources in those two days; the ogre oil was almost gone, and most of the North Wind bombs were used up.

Fortunately, Mahakam subsequently sent a large amount of alchemical materials, enough for him to remake many alchemical bombs and sword oil.

As for these alchemical materials, they were all recorded in Mahakam's account.

Just then, footsteps came from outside the door.

Zig opened the door and saw an elderly dwarf standing outside.

He was followed by several soldiers and two young servants.

The soldiers were wearing heavy armor from Mahakan and carrying battle axes on their backs.

The older dwarf leading the group was not dressed as a guard.

He wore a thick woolen coat with a hammer emblem on his chest, and his beard was neatly trimmed. Standing there, he looked less like a soldier and more like someone who had long been in charge of mine tunnels, ledgers, and human lives.

The young waiter stepped forward and introduced them to Zig and his group:

"This is the mining manager of the Gray Ridge mining area."

The mine manager didn't say many polite words.

He first looked at Sieg, then at Saqia, Dandelion, and Zoltan, who had just returned from outside, before speaking.

"Thank you all for your help. Mahakan will never forget this kindness."

After the mine manager finished speaking, he gestured to the side.

Four iron-gray mountain horses were parked outside the stone house.

These horses were not as tall and beautiful as the warhorses ridden by northern nobles, but they were all muscular and had strong shoulders and backs.

When they stand on the stone ground, their hooves hardly slip, and occasionally they swing their necks, making a solid friction sound from the leather saddles on their bodies.

Zieg could tell at a glance that this was not a horse meant for showing off.

They are good horses that can travel on mountain roads, endure hardship, and carry people all the way to the territory of Temuria.

Another waiter brought over a wooden box with leather buckles.

The box was opened, revealing heavy money bags and a receipt stamped with the seal of Tanshan.

"All your hard work these past few days is reflected in this."

"From now on, you are all guests of Mahakam."

"The gates of Mahakam will always be open to you."

……

One day later.

The four of them finally crossed the last ridge and left the Mahakan Mountains.

Standing at the end of the mountain path, gazing at the scene before me.

Rolling hills spread out beneath your feet, stretching all the way to the horizon.

In the distance, wisps of smoke can be seen rising from chimneys; those are human villages.

The crops in the fields had already been harvested, and a thin layer of frost covered the withered yellow stubble.

They returned to the human world.

"Where am I?" Dandelion looked around, trying to find some familiar landmarks in the surrounding scenery.

Sakia frowned slightly; she wasn't familiar with the terrain in this area.

"Let's go, let's find someone to ask."

The group led their horses toward the nearest village.

The village is small, with scattered houses lined up along a muddy dirt road.

Several farmers were repairing a fence by the field when they saw strangers approaching. They stopped what they were doing and looked at them warily.

Sieg's gaze swept over the wary farmers at the village entrance. Before he could speak, Dandelion had already taken a step forward.

"At times like these, someone who looks respectable, friendly, and clearly doesn't intend to steal their food should step in."

As he spoke, he straightened his collar and then adjusted the lute behind him.

It was rare for Zoltan not to sabotage him.

"Go on, poet. Just don't scare people away."

Dandelion gave him a hurt look.

"You know nothing about my diplomatic skills."

Having said that, he put on a perfectly measured smile, bowed slightly to the farmers, and asked in a tone that was both gentle and harmless:

"Don't be nervous, everyone. We're just travelers passing through, and we'd like to ask what this place is, and which way to the nearest town?"

An older farmer looked him up and down a few times, then glanced at Zig and the others standing not far away.

Seeing that although they all carried knives and swords, they showed no intention of approaching the village, so he reluctantly spoke up.

"This is Lyca Village, the territory of the Kingdom of Temuria."

Zieg had no recollection of the name.

Are there any larger towns nearby?

"Yes," the farmer pointed to the west, "Go straight in that direction, there's a fortress city called Kareas."

Carias.

Sieg's memories of the Witcher storyline were immediately triggered.

Calias is located in the eastern part of Temuria and is the hometown of the sorceress Keira.

If you keep walking northwest from Calias, you'll reach White Orchard, the starting village in The Witcher 3.

He took a silver coin from his pouch and tossed it to Dandelion.

Dandelion casually slipped the item into the old farmer's hand, smiling as he said, "Thank you. May the goddess Meritelli bless your hearth so that it never goes out all winter."

While the farmer was still in a daze, Dandelion had already returned to his companions and explained the information he had obtained in a few words.

Sakia nodded, offering no objection.

Zoltan slung his battle axe over his shoulder.

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go."

Dandelion adjusted the position of the lute on his back.

"Novigrad, I'm here," he murmured to himself. "I hope the 'Spear Cave' tavern hasn't closed down yet, and the girls there are still as beautiful as before..."