I'm not a Witcher anymore.

Baiguoyuan Village is different from other places.

It sits on the riverbank; the village is small, but it is situated right on the east-west road.

Normally, this place might just be a stopover, but now, with war looming, merchants, refugees, and nearby villagers are all stuck at the bridgehead, creating an unusually bustling scene.

Zig and his group could see the long queue forming at the bridgehead from afar.

The procession stretched from the east side of the Bridge of Lamentation all the way onto the road.

There were at least several dozen people, and more were constantly arriving.

There were farmers pushing wheelbarrows, peddlers driving mules, travelers carrying bundles, and refugees with their families.

Everyone's face was etched with fatigue and anxiety.

"What's going on?" Dandelion stood on tiptoe, trying to see the situation ahead clearly. "Why are there so many people?"

Zig looked at the front of the line.

Two rough wooden barricades were placed at the bridgehead, staggered to the left and right, leaving a gap in the middle for travelers and horse-drawn carriages to pass through.

Several soldiers dressed in Temerian standard armor stood to the side, checking everyone who tried to enter the village.

They examined it extremely carefully.

Everyone's baggage had to be opened and examined, every face had to be carefully scrutinized, and sometimes they had to be questioned for a long time before being allowed to pass.

"Wartime control," Sieg said. "The Temeria are on guard against Nilfgaardian spies."

"Is this the efficiency?" Zoltan muttered in dissatisfaction. "By the time it's our turn, the sun will have already set."

He was right.

The column moved extremely slowly.

Meanwhile, more and more people were arriving from the road, and the tail of the queue stretched out like a snake that kept growing longer and longer.

The four had no choice but to lead their horses and wait patiently behind the group.

Not far from Zig, two young men were talking. One of them was carrying a bulging bundle on his back and kept glancing towards the bridgehead.

"Where do you plan to go once we get to the White Orchard?" his companion asked.

"Let's find a place to stay first." The young man wiped his nose and said in a low voice, "Also, don't call me Jacques anymore, call me Hans. My grandmother was a Nasser, so I'm practically half Nilfgaardian. Maybe I'll get away with less of a beating when the men in black arrive."

His companion paused for a moment, didn't laugh, but lowered his voice even further.

"You've thought this through quite well."

Time passed by, second by second.

As the sun gradually sets in the west, it casts an orange-red afterglow across the sky.

The team, however, remained largely still.

Ahead of Zig was a middle-aged farmer pushing a wheelbarrow loaded with radishes. He was getting impatient, stamping his feet and sighing, muttering, "I'm afraid I won't make it to my destination tonight."

Further ahead was a woman holding a child who was crying incessantly because the child was hungry.

The woman frantically tried to soothe him, fine beads of sweat forming on her forehead.

An atmosphere of restlessness permeated the air.

Dandelion stood there, looking at the motionless queue in front of him, then at the setting sun on the horizon, and couldn't help but shake his head.

"This scene is perfect material for satirical poetry."

He cleared his throat, gathering his emotions.

"Listen to this, I'll improvise a song..."

"No!" Zoltan covered his mouth with his hand. "If you want to die, go ahead and do it yourself. Don't drag us down with you."

"Mmm..."

"Those soldiers are already in a bad mood. If you add insult to injury by reciting satirical poems, do you believe they'll arrest us all?"

Dandelion struggled for a few moments, then finally gave up resisting.

Zoltan then released his grip, but still kept a wary eye on him, afraid that the poet might do something rash in a moment of passion.

After waiting for a while, the line moved forward a little.

Just when everyone thought they were destined to spend the day here until dark, a rapid sound of horses' hooves suddenly came from afar.

The sound grew louder and louder as it approached, like muffled thunder rolling across the ground.

"Get out of the way! Get out of the way!"

A hoarse voice came along with the sound of horses' hooves.

The crowd hurriedly dodged to both sides, and in the shoving, some people fell to the ground, and some people's goods were scattered all over the ground, causing a chaotic scream and cursing.

With quick reflexes, Sieg grabbed Dandelion beside him and pulled on the reins to the side of the road.

Zoltan and Saqiya quickly led their horses to the side.

The next moment, a rider rushed up from the road behind.

On horseback sat a young soldier, his face as pale as paper, his body stained with blood.

He spurred his horse on at breakneck speed, shouting at the top of his lungs:

"Don't block the way! Run! The Nilfgaardians are coming!"

This statement was like a boulder thrown into a calm lake, instantly stirring up a stormy sea.

"What?"

"Nifggars?"

"How is that possible? We're so far from the front lines!"

"It's over, it's over, Temuria is dead, we're doomed!"

The crowd immediately erupted in uproar.

Fear spread like a plague among the crowd, and the once orderly ranks crumbled instantly.

People screamed, pushed, and cried as they desperately tried to squeeze into the village.

The woman holding the child was jostled by the crowd and nearly fell.

The middle-aged farmer's wheelbarrow was overturned, and radishes rolled all over the ground. He squatted on the ground, on the verge of tears.

The scene was chaotic.

The soldiers guarding the roadblock were also panicked. They looked at each other, not knowing what to do.

"Close the roadblocks!" a soldier shouted.

"No!" another soldier retorted, "There are too many people, we can't close the door!"

"Then let them get out of the way! Take control of the roadblocks first!"

The soldiers frantically tried to maintain order, but their efforts seemed futile in the face of the surging crowd.

Just then, a man who looked like a sergeant gritted his teeth and made a decision.

"Fine, let them all pass!"

He waved his hand, ordering the soldiers to remove the barricades.

"Let them in! Quickly!"

The moment the roadblocks were opened, the crowd surged onto the stone bridge like a flood bursting its banks, crowding into the village.

The sounds of crying, cursing, and footsteps mingled together, making one's ears ring.

Zig and his companions mingled in the crowd and were swept into Baiguoyuan Village.

After the Temurian soldiers let people into the village, they blocked the bridgehead again.

Several soldiers, sweating profusely, brought the two barricades together, completely sealing off the passage that had been left open.

A soldier pushed an empty cart from the side and placed it horizontally behind the barricade. Two other soldiers piled up the scattered baskets and wooden crates to temporarily reinforce the defensive line.

The Temerian soldiers guarding behind the roadblock gripped their weapons and nervously looked eastward.

At first, there was nothing on the road east of the Bridge of Lamentation.

There was only withered grass, low houses, and the shadows of trees swaying in the winter wind on both sides of the road.

But then, an even more rapid sound of hooves came from afar.

Dust rose from the end of the road, first as a black line, then quickly spreading.

The black-clad cavalrymen emerged from behind the trees.

They approached along the road on the east side.

The warhorse trampled the frozen mud on the road, and the black cloak billowed in the wind.

In the center of the procession, a flag was raised high.

Japanese flag.

The flag of the Nilfgaardian Empire.

The Nilfgaardians did indeed arrive.