I'm not a Witcher anymore.

Philip ranted for a while before gradually calming down.

But his mind was racing.

Baron Veserad has run away.

The crows' nest is leaderless.

The soldiers in the castle were filled with anxiety and did not know where to go.

This is an opportunity.

Temeria is in chaos, His Majesty Foltest has been assassinated, the Nilfgaardians are invading, and there is fighting everywhere.

At a time like this, who has the mind to care about this muddy mess in Velen?

He could easily use the pretext of "helping the Baron defend the city" to rally these disorganized garrison troops and seize Crow's Nest.

Nominally, he was still Baron Veserad's subordinate, only managing the territory on his behalf during the Baron's "temporary absence".

No one could find fault with him.

After that, it didn't matter whether the Temeria army repelled the Nilfgaardians or the Nilfgaardians attacked.

Regardless of who wins in the end, someone will always need to manage this territory.

And Philip Strenger is the most suitable candidate.

As for the baron hiding on Fick Island... if he comes back, I can just go back to being a captain, just like before.

If he doesn't come back—then there's nothing I can do but take on this "responsibility" and "hardship" for the Baron.

Thinking about this made Philip feel much better.

He turned around and forced a smile.

"Lord Sieg, please excuse my poor appearance."

"My lord is a bit timid, but that doesn't matter. A crow's den is still a crow's den, and the hospitality is still the same."

He shouted at another soldier.

"Hey, go tell the kitchen to prepare a feast. And get a few barrels of good wine from the cellar."

The soldier who was called immediately ran to relay the order.

Philip didn't delay any longer and led everyone onto the suspension bridge.

The waterway beneath the suspension bridge flows around the wooden wall at the bottom of Crow's Nest. The water is not wide, but it separates this fortified village from the muddy road outside.

The bridge planks were blackened by the rain, and the wood creaked dully when horses trod on them.

After crossing the suspension bridge, there is first a low-lying outer courtyard.

Wooden houses and sheds were crammed together on both sides of the dirt road, with wet straw ropes and rags hanging under the eaves, and a few chickens were herded into the fence.

Hearing the sound of horses' hooves, many people poked their heads out of the houses.

Philip led the group through the outer courtyard and up the path toward the inner fortress.

The high stone walls and towers were shrouded in twilight, and torches were lit one after another, casting a yellowish glow on the damp, cold wind.

Once inside the inner courtyard, Philip raised his voice and shouted:

"Anna, Tamara, come out and greet the guests."

His voice echoed in the empty courtyard.

But there was no movement at all inside the castle.

Philip frowned and quickened his pace.

"Anna? Tamara?"

Still no response.

He walked into the castle hall and looked around.

No one is empty.

Philip's expression changed.

He strode towards the stairs and rushed up to the second floor in two quick steps.

"Tamala".

He pushed open the door to his daughter's room.

The room was neat and tidy, the bed was clean and tidy, but no one was there.

The wardrobe doors were wide open, and the inside was completely empty.

Philip's breathing became heavy.

He turned and rushed to his bedroom, pushing the door open.

There was no one there either.

The bedding on the bed was also folded very neatly.

Anna's dressing table was empty; all the perfumes, cosmetics, and small glass bottles were gone.

Philip stood in the center of the room, his breathing growing heavier.

Then he saw the letter on the table.

Philip walked over, picked up the letter, and unfolded it.

His eyes quickly scanned the words on the letter, and his expression grew increasingly grim as he read on.

Philip threw the letter on the ground, the pages unfolding to reveal the first few lines.

Zieg walked to the door, but didn't reach out to touch it; he simply looked down at the unfolded parchment.

The letter was written by Anna; her handwriting was beautiful, but the wording was very cold.

The letter stated that she and Philip had long since lost their feelings for each other.

Over the years, Philip had been an alcoholic, irritable, and easily angered; she had had enough of this life.

She decided to leave with her daughter and elope with a man named Evan.

At the end of the letter, she begged Philip not to come looking for them, so that the three of them could live a peaceful life together.

Philip was still roaring, his face flushed red and veins bulging.

"She ran off with another man, and now she's taking my daughter with her. What right does she have to take my daughter?"

He pushed open the door and rushed into the courtyard.

"Someone, bring me my whip."

A soldier nervously handed over a leather whip.

Philip grabbed the whip, his eyes bloodshot, like a maddened beast.

"Does anyone know where Anna and Tamara went? Tell me!"

The soldiers were terrified and no one dared to utter a sound.

Philip roared and lashed out with his whip at the nearest soldier.

Snapped!

The whip cracked in the air, leaving a bloody welt on the soldier's face.

"Tell me, where did she go?"

The soldier covered his face, backed away, and stammered, unable to speak.

Philip lashed out with the whip again.

"explain--"

This time, the whip did not fall.

Zig reached out and grabbed the end of the whip.

The whip was taut, and Philip pulled it back with all his might, but couldn't budge it.

Zieg looked at him.

"Don't take your anger out on people who have nothing to do with you."

"What the hell gives you the right to tell me what to do...?"

Before Philip could finish speaking, Zieg snatched the whip from his hand.

Snapped!

The whip struck Philip's face, leaving a red welt on his cheekbone.

Philip swayed, his eyes filled with disbelief.

Snapped!

The second lash struck his shoulder.

Snapped!

The third lash landed on his back.

Philip staggered back a few steps, his boot heel slipped on the stone slab, and he almost fell. He could only support himself on his knees and gasp for breath.

Zig held the whip hanging at his side.

"Have you calmed down yet?"

Philip's chest heaved violently, his fists clenching and unclenching.

The whip marks on his face stung, but that pain actually pulled him back from his rage.

He looked at the whip in Zig's hand, then at the soldier who was covering his face and dared not look up.

The angry curse that had been stuck in his throat suddenly stopped.

His anger was still there.

But he also knew that Zieg had not lashed him with those whips to humiliate him.

It's to stop him from biting people indiscriminately like a mad dog.

Philip's shoulders slumped down little by little.

No one dared to make a sound in the courtyard; only the cold wind swept across the eaves, causing the torches to sway gently a few times.

The anger was still burning in my chest, but I couldn't find a place to vent it, leaving me with only an indescribable sense of powerlessness.

He seemed to have suddenly lost all his strength, his knees buckled, and he knelt on the cold, wet stone slab.

"She's gone."

His voice was hoarse and tired.

She left with my daughter.