I'm not a Witcher anymore.

"What's wrong?"

Philip seemed to see through Clegane's concerns, and a cold smile curled at the corner of his mouth.

"Are you afraid I'll use my power to bully you and steal your things? Or are you afraid I'll conscript you into the army?"

Crigan's face darkened further.

Philip snorted coldly.

"When I say 'let's travel together,' I mean it. I won't touch your people, vehicles, or food. If any of my people are tempted to do something, I'll chop their hands off myself."

Clegane remained hesitant, his gaze involuntarily shifting to Zieg, with a hint of pleading.

Zieg was silent for a moment, then nodded.

Crigan immediately breathed a sigh of relief.

"In that case, thank you very much, Lord Philip."

Philip's gaze lingered on Zieg for a moment longer.

But he said nothing, only waved his hand and led his soldiers toward the outskirts of the camp.

"We'll just set up camp over there. If anything happens, just give us a shout."

His voice came from afar.

"Don't worry, you stay in your camp, my men will stay outside. Nobody cross the line."

After saying that, the dozen or so torches stopped on an open space outside the camp, dispersed one after another, and began to set up their own tents.

The commotion in the camp gradually subsided, but most people still wore expressions of unease.

Although those soldiers did not enter the camp, their very presence was a source of pressure.

In this chaotic world, no one knows whether these people with knives and guns will suddenly turn on you.

Most of the refugees did not sleep well that night.

Inside the tents, beside the carriages, and behind the stone walls, there were suppressed coughs and the sounds of people turning over. Someone leaned against the wheel, clutching a short sword, and only closed his eyes briefly when the sky began to turn gray.

……

The next morning, the two teams broke camp and set off, continuing their journey north.

Philip's cavalry led the way, a dozen or so warhorses trotting along the muddy road, their hooves splashing up puddles of filthy mud.

The refugees followed behind, with the elderly, women, and children placed in the middle, while the men were scattered around to guard the front and back.

The two sides maintained a distance of approximately fifty meters.

A light drizzle was still falling from the sky.

The road was flanked by dense forests, with trees and shrubs crowding together, making the already narrow dirt road even narrower.

Sieg rode a Nilfgaardian horse at the head of the refugee procession, his eyes scanning the surroundings warily.

His reins suddenly tightened a little.

Just then—

The canopy of the trees at the front of the procession drooped down.

A few wet leaves were broken off and landed on the shoulder armor of the cavalryman at the front.

Just as the soldier was about to look up, a dark red shadow swooped down from among the branches.

"Varied--"

The exclamation was abruptly cut off before it could even leave his lips.

The claws pierced into the front of the breastplate and then pulled out shattered iron plates and large chunks of flesh from the back.

Before the soldier could even finish his shout, he was thrown off his horse and slammed into the mud.

Blood gushed out from the torn armor, quickly staining the water in the ruts red.

"Enemy attack—"

Philip's roar echoed through the woods.

But it's too late.

The horses in the front row reared up in fright at the smell of blood and the roars of the monster, and the horses behind them followed suit.

The cavalrymen desperately pulled on the reins, some were thrown off their horses, and others were dragged and rolled in the mud. The once orderly formation was suddenly torn apart.

The refugees in the rear also fell into chaos.

The women screamed and clung to their children, the elderly looked around in terror, and the men gripped their weapons tightly, staring ahead with pale faces.

"For the sake of the plague, what the hell is this thing?"

Philip gripped the reins tightly and finally managed to control his warhorse.

He looked up and saw the true face of the dark figure for the first time.

The monster was taller than an adult man, with a hunched back and dark red skin all over its body, as if the outermost layer of skin had been peeled off.

Its head resembled some kind of twisted bat, with a wide-open mouth, densely packed fangs, and a tuft of long, snow-white whiskers hanging from its chin.

The most striking feature is its pair of claws.

Its fingers were long and slender, its claws were curved, and the flesh that had just been torn was still hanging between its fingers, dripping blood as it crouched down.

"Kill it—"

A soldier finally regained control of his warhorse, roared, and charged at the monster with his spear.

The spear pierced the monster's abdomen.

But the sharp spear tip only penetrated less than an inch deep, as if it had pierced into a layer of wet, hard, thick skin, and could not go any further.

The monster looked down at the spear stuck in its body and let out a low roar.

Then, it raised its paw and swung it horizontally.

The warhorse's abdomen was ripped open, and its intestines, dripping with blood, slid out.

The warhorse let out a miserable neigh and crashed to the ground, throwing the soldier off its back.

Before the soldier could even get up, the monster's claws had already fallen again.

click-

The soldier's right arm was severed at the shoulder, and blood gushed out.

"Aaaaaahh ...

Heart-wrenching screams echoed through the forest.

But the monster did not kill the soldier immediately.

It simply crouched down, extended its barbed tongue, and greedily licked the blood gushing from the severed arm.

The other soldiers' expressions changed, and for a moment no one dared to go forward and risk their lives.

"Damn it... damn it..."

Philip cursed through gritted teeth, wanting to turn his horse around and charge. But his warhorse was terrified by the bloody aura emanating from the monster, reared up abruptly, and threw him off.

Philip fell heavily to the ground, his shoulder went numb, the edge of his helmet hit mud and water, and his vision went black for a moment.

The monster's attention then fell on him.

It put down the still-bleeding severed arm in its hand, turned its head, and stared straight at Philip with its empty eyes.

Philip cursed and reached for the sword at his waist.

But the monster had already pounced on him, and its claws, still covered in blood and flesh, came crashing down. He only had time to raise his arm to shield his face.

The expected excruciating pain did not come.

Instead, a mournful wail rang out.

Philip lowered his arm.

There was another person in front of him.

The young man stood amidst mud and blood, his longsword as smooth as a mirror, its blade emerging from the monster's chest.

That sword strike cut extremely deep.

A long, narrow gash was cut open in the Blood Demon's chest, running from below his collarbone all the way to the edge of his ribs. Dark red blood gushed out from the wound, churning into a murky red as it met the muddy water beneath his feet.

Zieg recognized the monster.

Blood Demon.

In the Kaer Morhen monster encyclopedia, the Blood Demon is classified as a type of vampire, belonging to the lower ranks of vampires.

The Blood Demon looked down at the wound on his chest.

When it looked at Langlisa again, it let out a short hiss and for the first time shrank back.

Then, its shape began to blur.

It disappeared.

But it never truly escaped Zieg's sight.

Suddenly, a shallow mark was made in the muddy water to the left front. A few wet leaves that had been knocked off did not fall directly to the ground, but instead slid down along an invisible outline as if they were hanging on something.

The Blood Demon circled around to the side and front.

It lowered its body, its claws almost touching the mud and water.

The next moment, the water on the ground suddenly burst open.

The blurry outline surged up from the side, heading straight for Zig's head.

Langrisser twirled in his hand, the spine of the sword brushing against the rain, the blade slashing upwards against the direction the blood demon was pouncing.

puff--

A line of dark red splashed in mid-air.

The Blood Demon stumbled out of its cloak, losing its balance and crashing heavily into the mud. One of its claws was cleanly severed, blood gushing from the cut and leaving a crimson trail on the ground.

It struggled to get up.

Zig walked up to it.

The Blood Demon's last remaining claw swept across with a whooshing sound.

Zig sidestepped, his boots making a half-turn arc in the mud, and Langlisa landed smoothly.

The second claw flew out.

The Blood Demon's howl completely changed.

It stopped attacking and instead turned to flee, its broken claws thrashing about in the mud, its dark red body shrinking back towards the forest.

The airflow swirled up along Zig's leg.

Wind step!

The mud and water were kicked up by the soles of his boots.

Sieg's figure passed behind Blood Demon, and Langrisser slashed diagonally from the right, the blade cleanly slicing through the neck bone.

The Blood Demon's head flew off its body and crashed into the mud and water beside the rut.

The headless corpse stumbled forward half a step before collapsing heavily to its knees.

Zig wiped the blood off the blade, sheathed the sword, and then took out a bottle of kerosene from his pouch.

He pulled out the cork, poured kerosene along the broken neck and chest wound, lit a tinderbox, and threw it on the corpse.

Philip sat in the mud, his hand still on the hilt of his sword, unable to speak for a long time.

Philip's men all stood frozen in place, their faces filled with shock.

Not only Philip and his men were shocked, but so were the refugees.

Clegane's Adam's apple bobbed as he silently thanked the goddess Meritelli for bringing Lord Sieg to them.