I'm not a Witcher anymore.

Chapter 146 Silver Skaritz

By evening the following day, the outline of Skaritz finally appeared on the horizon.

The air was filled not only with the smell of soil, but also with the pungent odor of roasted ore and the smoky smell of burning charcoal—a unique aroma of the mining town.

Behind the town, Skaritz Castle sits on a high hillside, its greyish-white stone walls gleaming coldly in the setting sun, like a silent overseer overlooking the territory below.

Below the castle, rows of houses stand in a neat and orderly fashion.

Although the town was surrounded by only a wooden fence, the guards at the gate did not appear too lax.

After all, this is a royal silver mine, and any mishap could cost you your head.

The two guards carrying spears were about to step forward to question him, but when their eyes fell on the exquisite emblem on Zieg's chest and the powerful warhorses beneath them, they swallowed back the reprimands that were on the tip of their tongues.

They exchanged a look of awe, hastily retreated to the side of the road, held their spears upright at their sides, and bowed their heads to let them pass.

Zig and Hightar crossed the wooden fence outside the town and stepped onto the slightly muddy main road.

At that very moment, the book of adventure in my mind quietly opened.

"Main Quest 1 Completed: Arrival at Skarlitz"

"Gift Arrives: Constitution +1"

Current physical condition: 8→9

Main Mission Two: Defend Skarlitz

Main Quest 3: Unlocked after completing Main Quest 2.

After sensing the changes within his body, Sieg looked towards the castle high up at the back of the town.

As the sun sets, the gray stone walls silently overlook the streets below, while the townspeople remain unaware that death is already sharpening its blade not far away.

Defend Skarlitz?

Zieg's expression didn't change much.

There was just a faint smile on her lips.

can.

Now that he has come here, he will not allow Sigismund's minions to trample this place again.

The two continued riding their horses along the main road in the town.

Before long, they arrived at the busiest tavern in the town center.

Haitar was the first to dismount, handing the reins to the tavern waiter who came to greet him, and then quietly instructing him to lead the horse to the backyard to feed it hay and dry its legs.

Upon seeing the two warhorses and the emblem on Zieg's clothes, the waiter immediately bowed and responded, his actions far more attentive than usual.

Zieg dismounted and then pushed open the door to enter.

A strong aroma of fermented malt, the savory scent of roasted meat, and the sweat of men wafted over, instantly dispelling the coolness of the night.

The tavern was filled with miners who had just finished work and passing merchants, and the noise was deafening.

However, when Zieg and Hightar appeared at the door, the tables near the door fell silent instantly.

Several probing gazes were cast over, but upon touching Hightar's hand on the hilt of his sword and Sieg's calm, deep eyes, they immediately recoiled as if burned.

In chaotic times, ordinary people know best how to survive—there are some people you can't even look at for long.

The noise had returned, but it was noticeably quieter than before.

Zieg sat down at a clean table by the window.

A moment later, a young waitress came over.

"What... what would you two like?"

Her voice trembled slightly, her gaze was lowered, and she didn't even dare to look at the guest's face.

Haitar glanced at her: "Bring the best you have here. The meat must be freshly grilled, and the wine must be undiluted."

"Yes, sir, please wait a moment."

The waitress nervously performed a full curtsy and returned to the kitchen.

Not long after, she returned carrying a heavy tray.

On the tray sat a can of dark beer with the foam not yet completely dissipated, two fairly clean ceramic cups, and two large pieces of pork with crispy, sizzling skin.

It was served alongside freshly cut rye bread, coarse salt, mustard, and a dish of cabbage pickled in vinegar.

For a mining town like Skaritz, this was a feast comparable to a festival.

After the waitress carefully arranged the dishes, she lowered her head and stepped aside, waiting for any possible instructions.

Just as the two finished their dinner and were about to ask the waitress for a room to rest, the heavy wooden door of the tavern creaked open again, letting in a gust of cold wind that made the candlelight on the table flicker.

A middle-aged man in uniform with a long sword at his waist walked in.

His uniform had a simple badge embroidered on the chest, the emblem of Lord Radji.

As soon as he entered, he went straight to Zig's table. After quickly scanning the two of them with his eyes, he bowed slightly and performed a standard courtesy.

"Your Excellency, I am a bailiff from Scarlitz."

His tone was respectful but not servile, clearly showing he had seen some of the world: "Lord Raddy, who governs this area, heard of the arrival of distinguished guests and specially sent me here. Please come to the castle. Lord Raddy has prepared accommodations and wishes to personally receive you and your entourage."

Zieg put down the ceramic cup in his hand and nodded calmly: "Please lead the way."

The bailiff bowed again and gestured for them to proceed.

The three left the tavern and walked along the road toward the castle on the hillside.

Skarlitz Castle appears larger than it does from a distance.

A three-story main building is surrounded by thick stone walls, with auxiliary buildings such as stables and warehouses next to it.

The castle gates were wide open, and two armored guards with spears stood straight on either side.

The bailiffs led Zieg and Haitar through the courtyard and into the main building.

The Lord's Hall is located on the second floor.

It was a rectangular hall with several faded brocades hanging on the walls, depicting scenes of hunting and war.

A fire was burning in the center of the hall, casting flickering shadows on the stone walls.

Not far from the fire sat a heavy, high-backed oak chair, with a bearskin covering its surface.

A lean, middle-aged man with the resolute air of a soldier was sitting on that wooden chair.

He sat upright with his back straight, a habit left over from his many years of military service.

He didn't wear any flamboyant brocade robes, but instead wore a brown studded leather armor over a red lining, with black sleeves and arm guards that made the whole outfit look more streamlined.

This is not clothing prepared for a banquet, but rather attire chosen by someone who might don armor and mount a horse at any moment.

The thick leather belt around his waist wasn't primarily for decoration, but rather to hold the longsword he always carried.

His face was etched with the marks of time and weariness. Deep lines ran along his forehead and around his eyes, the imprints of long-term responsibility and deep contemplation.

He had a neatly trimmed short mustache and a small tuft of stubble under his chin. His light-colored eyes were calm and sharp, as if he was already used to judging the situation in chaos.

This is Lord Radji Kobila, the burger of Skarlitz.

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