I'm not a Witcher anymore.

The sound was like some kind of slippery creature rubbing against the throat.

The once quiet refugee procession erupted into chaos, with the sobs of the elderly and the screams of women filling the air.

"Protect women, children, and the elderly!"

The men quickly and tacitly dispersed to the outer perimeter, forming a tight defensive circle around the carriage with their bodies.

Zieg dismounted.

Sakia landed almost simultaneously and reached out to grasp the hilt of the greatsword on her back.

"Zoltan, you stay here to protect Dandelion and the horse."

Don't worry.

Zoltan also jumped off his mountain horse, gripped his axe, and stood next to Dandelion.

Dandelion was about to say something more when another hiss came from the swamp, getting closer to the road.

His gaze shifted from the men to Zig and Sakia, and he swallowed his words.

"Wait! That's a water ghost, no..."

The burned-faced man had only uttered half a sentence when Sieg and Sakia disappeared into the depths of the reeds.

Immediately afterwards, a short hiss came from that direction, followed by the dull thud of a heavy object falling into the mud.

He gripped the sword hilt tightly, staring intently at the reeds.

The men behind him didn't relax either.

They could hear something struggling inside, the sound of a sword cutting through wet flesh, and the screams that the monster uttered as it lay dying.

The scream lasted only a short time.

Less than a minute.

The sound abruptly stopped, and deathly silence enveloped the road once more.

Zig and Saqia returned to the refugees' sight side by side.

Sieg sheathed Langrisser, and Sakia casually wiped the blood off her cheek, as if she had only broken two tree branches.

The refugee procession quieted down.

The men who had set up their defensive formations all stared at them.

No one spoke.

The man, whose face was half burned, slowly loosened his grip on the sword hilt.

"Thank you both."

His voice was still hoarse, but his back was bent over.

The men around them also put down their weapons.

The way they looked at Zig and his companions was different from before.

Zig wiped the dirt off the soles of his boots on the grass by the roadside.

"Where are you headed, with your family all in tow?"

The man, whose face was half burned, looked back at the carriage, the old man, the woman, and the child behind him. After a brief hesitation, he answered.

"Novigrad, we're going to that city of freedom."

Dandelion, who was standing next to Zoltan, couldn't help but interrupt upon hearing the answer, his expression full of confusion.

"That's strange. In the previous two Nilfgaardian Wars, didn't those men in black end up slinking back to the south bank of the Yaruka River? Do you really think the outcome will be any different this time? To abandon your homes and run north?"

No one answered.

But Zieg's gaze shifted from him to one of the carriages behind them.

The carriage was covered with an old cloth, which had been soaked by the rain and turned a dark color. The edges were badly worn, and some parts had even been repaired.

On that faded blue background, the outline of the three golden lions can still be vaguely seen.

A blue flag with three lions?

that is not……

Zig looked away.

He could roughly guess why this team insisted on going to Novigrad.

He didn't point it out, but simply turned to look at Zoltan.

"Zortan".

He shouted and gestured towards the carriage stuck in the mud.

Zoltan immediately understood what he meant.

"Finally, there's a job that doesn't involve killing people."

The dwarf veteran hung his battle axe back on the hook on his back, then strode into the muddy puddle filled with water.

Zig also walked toward the carriage.

Only after the two men reached the wheels did the man with half his face burned seem to come to his senses.

"What are you all standing there for! Come and lend a hand!"

"Wait, don't push." ​​Zig squatted down next to the stuck wheel. "The mud underneath is soft. Pulling it out forcefully will only make it sink deeper. Let's prop it up from underneath."

Several men brought stones and broken branches.

Zortan took a thick wooden pole, positioned it under the wheel, and called back:

"You three, push the back of the cart. You, hold the horse steady and don't let it kick. The rest of you, put stones under the wheels, but don't stick your hands in too far, or no one will grow them back for you if you break them."

Stones and broken branches were placed under the wheels one by one, and the horses pulling the cart were straightened again.

Zortan wedged the thick wooden pole into the bottom of the wheel, pressed down on one end of the pole with both hands, and waited for the people next to him to step back before gritting his teeth and sinking it down.

"pull!"

Zig shouted.

The two horses were pulled forward with effort, and the man at the back of the cart pushed along. The cart groaned heavily, and the wheels, stuck in the mud, wobbled before being dragged down by the mud.

Zoltan let out a low growl, and the muscles in his arms bulged.

"Again!"

With the next burst of force, a heavy, wet, sucking sound came from under the wheel. The black mud was forcibly torn apart, and half of the wheel was slowly lifted out of the mud pit.

"Don't let go!"

Stones were pushed in again, and the horse's hooves slipped in the mud, but the person leading the horse forcibly steadied it.

Zoltan slammed the wooden pole down.

The wheels finally broke free from the mud pit, kicking up large amounts of mud as they heavily crushed the stones and broken branches that had been laid out.

The carriage lurched forward and was then dragged out of the mud pit by the two horses.

The tense atmosphere around us suddenly relaxed.

Several exhausted men bent over, their hands resting on their knees as they breathed heavily.

The two companions closest to the carriage went over to check if the axle and belt were damaged. Zoltan pulled out the wooden pole stuck at the bottom of the pit, dragged the sticky pole, and threw it to the side of the road.

The women beside the car also breathed a sigh of relief.

A woman holding a child whispered "thank you," then quickly pulled the child closer to her. The child looked cautiously at Zig, then his gaze fell on the wooden pole by the roadside.

The old man sitting by the roadside didn't say anything, but simply stood up, leaning on the cart, and bowed to the group.

Zig pressed his palm against the side panel of the carriage to confirm that the carriage had left the muddy area.

"I can walk now."

After he finished speaking, he turned and walked towards his horse.

Zoltan shook the mud off his hands, muttered a curse about the terrible road in Velen, and followed them back.

Sakia gripped the reins again, while Dandelion stood to the side, carefully avoiding the mud puddles so his boots wouldn't sink in.

"grown ups."

The man, whose face was half burned, lowered his head.

"If you are also heading north, could you let us follow behind and get out of this swamp?"

"We don't have enough money."

"But we can handle the miscellaneous tasks along the way. Setting up camp, making fires, keeping watch, and taking care of the horses—our men can do it all."

"We will manage our own people well and will not hold you back."

The atmosphere changed noticeably after those words were spoken.

The men who had been able to avoid being seen earlier by using the tow truck, keeping watch, and packing their belongings were now all waiting for Zieg's reaction.

Zoltan and Saqia also looked at Sieg.

Even Dandelion kept his mouth shut at this moment.