I'm not a Witcher anymore.

The first rider to charge forward reined in his horse and turned around, his long sword slashing down once more—

Finn's spear was already waiting there.

The spearhead pierced through the gap in the rider's breastplate and emerged from behind.

Finn used the force of the thrust to take half a step forward, and swept his lance horizontally, striking the foreleg of another warhorse. The horse stumbled, and the rider was thrown off.

The following riders finally trampled over their companions' corpses, crashing into this fragile defense like a chaotic mudslide.

Three long swords simultaneously slashed at Ingram from different angles.

The heavily armored warrior didn't back down an inch; he lowered his center of gravity and charged headlong into the tower shield.

The heavy iron wall slammed into the side of a warhorse, accompanied by a tooth-chilling cracking sound, and both horse and rider were forcibly thrown over.

The warhammer swung up and smashed another desperate man who was trying to jump off his horse, denting his breastplate along with him.

Finn, on the other hand, was like a venomous snake lurking on the edge of an iron wall.

His spear transformed into a silver lightning bolt amidst the crisscrossing sparks, specifically targeting gaps in the enemy's armor and the unsuspecting necks of their warhorses.

A rider tried to get around Ingram's front, but before he could raise his longsword, Finn's spear tip had already accurately plunged into his throat, drawing out a cluster of dazzling blood as it was pulled out.

Zig and Ravenna's arrows never stopped during this time.

Several thugs who had lost their horses tried to take advantage of the chaos to sneak out of the shadows on the flank and approach the carriage.

Ravenna leaped lightly onto the roof of the car, her short bow leaving a dazzling afterimage.

At a distance of less than ten meters, three sharp twangs rang out in succession, and three desperate men, clutching the arrows stuck in their faces, fell silently into pools of blood.

Zieg remained kneeling on one knee on the edge of the car, his posture as steady as an ancient tree rooted to the ground.

His gaze was calm and focused, as if he were performing a meticulous trimming task.

A fierce bandit leader broke through Finn's blockade on horseback, laughing wildly as he raised a burning torch in his hand, attempting to throw it at the cargo-filled wagons.

Zig did not get up to stop him.

He simply nocked the arrow, drew the string, and released it in the same steady, unchanging rhythm.

The long arrow whistled through the air, piercing the bandit leader's wrist with extreme precision. Its momentum did not diminish, pinning him firmly to the leather saddle of his warhorse.

The second arrow, which followed smoothly, carried away his unuttered roar.

This was not a battle of equal strength, but an insurmountable meat grinder.

One rider after another fell from their horses as they tried to flank the enemy. Some, seeing the danger, attempted to circle around to a more distant angle and escape into the darkness, but the moment they left the torchlight, they were caught by deadly arrows that came from nowhere.

The battle ended quickly.

It was so fast it was almost silent.

When the last rider who tried to escape was pierced by an arrow and fell heavily into the wilderness, the entire wilderness fell silent.

The night wind blew by, leaving only the faint crackling of the torches and the heavy breathing of the adventurers.

Before them lay the haphazardly scattered corpses of men and horses. Some torches had gone out, while others flickered on the ground, casting a dim, flickering light on the blood-soaked wasteland.

Ingram looked down, nudged a corpse at his feet to make sure it wasn't moving, then looked up and asked, "Is everyone alright?"

Ravenna nimbly leaped down from the roof of the car, casually pulled an undamaged arrow from the shoulder of a corpse, and wiped the blood off on a blade of grass.

"Except for the fact that the fletching on two of the arrows might need to be trimmed," she said, putting the arrows back into her quiver and shrugging, her tone sounding as if she were complaining about the cold night wind. "Everything is fine."

Finn pulled the spear from the ground and shook the blood off the shaft.

"this one?"

No one answered him.

Because at that very moment—

A foul wind.

It didn't come from the ground; it pressed down from above, carrying the pungent, almost nauseating odor characteristic of some wild beast.

Almost instinctively, everyone scattered in all directions.

A huge black shadow fell from the night sky.

boom!

The sound of it hitting the ground was unlike the sound of any living thing touching the ground; it sounded more like a huge rock crashing down from a great height.

The ground trembled for a moment, and gravel and dirt flew everywhere. One of the carriages was hit head-on, and the thick wooden planks of the carriage split open like dry firewood. The wheels flew off and spun on the ground ten paces away.

The dust settled.

A giant beast stands in the center of the wreckage.

Its size far exceeds that of any ordinary forest beast; its shoulder height is almost level with the head of an adult man; its broad back is covered with a thick layer of brown feathers; and its wings are half-open, blocking half of the torchlight around it.

Those eyes glowed with a pale yellow light in the darkness, round and cold, like two pieces of amber embedded in a skull.

It's an owl-bear!

Craig sat on its back, iron shield across his knees, surveying the crowd below.

His face was grim, but a twisted smugness lingered at the corner of his mouth.

Ravenna reacted swiftly; while everyone was still holding their breath from the oppressive presence of the giant beast, her shortbow was already fully drawn.

The bowstring emitted a rapid hum.

Three arrows shot out almost in a row, drawing three extremely tricky arcs in mid-air, precisely biting into the owl-bear's vulnerable neck, eye sockets, and abdomen.

However, the fur, a mixture of oils and stiff feathers, forms a natural heavy armor.

With a teeth-grinding scraping sound, the arrow, strong enough to pierce leather armor, lost its momentum the moment it pierced the feather, and was then bounced off by the tremor of the muscles, falling limply to the ground.

There wasn't even a trace of blood on the arrow.

The bear looked down at the broken arrow on the ground, as if scanning some insignificant flying insect, and a low growl rolled down its throat.

The moment it roared, Finn moved.

He suddenly lowered his body, like a shadow flying close to the ground, the tip of his spear leaving a deadly silver afterimage in the interplay of light and shadow.

He slid in at an extremely dangerous distance to cut into the flank of the giant bear half a second before it raised its massive claws.

"drink!"

Finn's muscles tensed, and using the immense momentum of his charge, he slammed his steel spear into the bear's ribs.

The spearhead struggled to tear through the thick feathers and fat, penetrating less than half an inch into the flesh, before it felt as if it had pierced a piece of raw iron, unable to advance even an inch further.

The bear was in pain.

Its amber vertical pupils were instantly filled with violent bloodshot veins. It let out a shriek that tore through the night sky, and its massive body suddenly spun around at a terrifying speed completely disproportionate to its size.

A giant claw, thicker than an adult's waist, swept across like a wall of sharp blades, accompanied by a howling, foul wind.

"Back off!"

With a deafening battle cry, Ingram, bracing himself against the heavy tower shield, charged toward Finn's side like an enraged bull.

He pressed down with his entire weight, his legs digging deep into the mud, and raised his shield to take the hit.