I'm not a Witcher anymore.

Two hours passed quickly.

Zig swallowed the last bit of dry rations, stood up, and patted the crumbs off his hands.

Ravenna, who had been restless for some time, immediately followed him when he stood up, lowering her voice to say, "Shall we take another look?"

Zieg nodded.

Just as the two were about to set off, Hill, who was leaning against a tree trunk, gathered his shawl and came over with his walking stick.

"I'll go too."

She didn't explain further.

But since she took the initiative to speak, it was clearly not a spur-of-the-moment decision.

Zieg glanced at her but didn't ask any questions. Ravenna simply raised an eyebrow and moved the shortbow back to its most comfortable position.

The three greeted Valeria and then, one after the other, made their way back to the low bushes that provided a view of the wooden fence.

Zig reached out and pushed aside two intertwined branches in front of him, peering out through the gaps in the leaves.

The wooden fence is still in the same place.

The gap is still the same gap.

But the two goblins who had been guarding that spot were gone.

Ravenna squinted for a moment, then whispered, "Have they changed shifts? Or were they all called back?"

Zieg did not respond.

It's not far from the wooden fence, but the slope and the fence itself block out most of what's behind it.

What is inside the walled city? Are there any guards by the reservoir? We still can't see.

Hill knelt to Zig's right.

She placed the wooden cane across her lap: "Ravenna, the surrounding area is yours."

Upon hearing this, Ravenna immediately turned her attention away from the wooden fence and raised her short bow slightly.

She squatted down beside the two of them, her gaze wandering back and forth along the woods on both sides and the slope behind them, not even missing any places where things might be hidden among the branches and leaves above their heads.

Hill then reached out and grasped Zieg's wrist.

Her fingers were cool, but her palm was steady, and she pressed it against her without the slightest hesitation.

"Don't resist," she said.

Zig felt a chill creep up from where their hands were clasped, and his vision was instantly split in two.

To the left were still the bushes and wooden fence in front of me, but to the right it suddenly dropped down, almost touching the ground, with grass roots, wet mud and gravel rushing past my field of vision.

Close to his side, a dark green, almost black, venomous vine silently swam out.

"Don't be nervous, it's my magical pet," Hill whispered. "I'm entrusting it to you. You decide which way to explore and when to stop."

Zig responded and quickly took control of it, following the pull.

The poisonous vines, clinging to the shadows, meandered around the rocks and bushes, silently climbing up the outermost wooden stake, and then sprawling to the top of the wooden fence.

The next moment, the entire fortress unfolded before Zig's eyes.

The first thing that catches the eye is a dilapidated wooden wall.

Most of the defensive fortifications that originally surrounded the back gate area had collapsed, and many of the rough timbers had turned black and cracked, lying on the mud and rubble.

Even the watchtower that should have been taller at the back was reduced to a crooked base and collapsed wooden beams, with large sections of the structure lost in the ruins, rendered completely useless.

Because the collapse was so severe, when the poisonous vines climbed to the top of the wooden fence, their line of sight could almost directly pass through the broken gap and into the interior of the fortress.

Next to the collapsed wooden wall, a water storage tank was built.

Several goblins were guarding the vicinity.

It's called guarding, but it's more like they're sprawled out there in a haphazard way.

He was curled up on the ground, clutching the broken wooden spear, his head drooping on his chest, drool hanging down his chin, and intermittent snoring coming from his nose.

Their weapons were scattered haphazardly around them, showing no sign of vigilance whatsoever.

Zieg did not look away.

He continued looking up along the collapsed wooden wall and the ruins near the back door, and soon found the sentries in this area who were still relatively conscious.

The sentry was not stationed on the abandoned watchtower.

It crouched on a thick branch extending from a towering tree beside the wooden wall.

That tree was incredibly tall, with a thick trunk that would take several people to encircle.

The branches stretched diagonally over the fortress, pressing down on the ruins of the back gate. The location was indeed more suitable for sentry duty than the collapsed watchtower.

The goblin huddled at the fork of a branch, its back against the tree trunk, legs dangling, and a short spear loosely held in its hand.

It wasn't asleep.

But it can't be said that they were diligent either.

The green head would slowly turn its head every now and then, its eyes vacant, clearly lost in thought.

When the wind blows through the leaves, it even sways a couple of times, as if it's so sleepy it's about to slide off the tree.

After taking in the area, Zig's gaze passed through the collapsed wooden wall and fell deeper into the fortress.

The next moment, even he held his breath.

The stronghold was filled with goblins.

Not just a few, not even a dozen.

It was a large area.

They almost covered most of the open space in the outer village where one could stand, lying densely everywhere.

A quick glance revealed at least one hundred and twenty or thirty of them.

Those short, ugly figures were huddled together, with hardly any space between them.

The air seemed to be heated by the fishy, ​​sweaty, and stale smell of them, and pressed down by the mountain winds over the fortress, making it feel stuffy even from a distance.

However, almost all the goblins in the stronghold were fast asleep, sprawled on the mud and ruins, snoring in unison, with even a few near the fire still clutching half-eaten bones.

The entire fortress thus appeared strangely relaxed, but Zig quickly realized that it was not entirely undefended.

Traces of traps remain in many places in the village, but most of them are only used as warnings; the truly deadly parts are mostly already badly damaged.

Otherwise, given the abilities of these goblins, they wouldn't have made this place their lair.

Through the venomous vines, the outline of the entire fortress gradually became clear.

This area is not a flat, open village, but is divided into an outer village and a central main fortress.

Outside the main gate was a large open area, while the back gate was the side from which they had approached.

The outer village was filled with dilapidated houses, wooden sheds, piles of miscellaneous items, and swarms of goblins sleeping.

Further in, on slightly higher ground, lies the true heart of the fortress.

There was clearly more than one road leading to the main castle, but it has been abandoned over the years and other parts are now too bad to walk on.

The wooden walkway on the west side collapsed into the hillside, and the narrow path on the east side was blocked by fallen trees, thorns, and remaining traps. The only passable path was a narrow path sandwiched between the ruins and abandoned houses.

The place was extremely narrow; with the sides squeezed together, at the end there was only a narrow opening leading directly to the front of the main fortress.

If a fight really breaks out, as long as someone blocks that spot, it will be difficult for the goblins behind to swarm in.

Zig pressed his mind forward, and the poisonous vines silently slid down the wooden fence, swimming along the gravel, rotten wood, and weeds into the outer village.

The goblins who had fallen into a deep sleep along the way were still sprawled out everywhere, blocking most of the places where one could still make their way. Only the narrow path leading to the main castle remained empty.

The vines, using the shadows, passed through the passage, and the space ahead suddenly opened up.

The main castle was finally fully revealed.

It was a completely wooden building, still retaining the slender and tall silhouette of elven architecture, but it had long been severely eroded by wind, rain and time.

The poisonous vines climbed up the cracks between the broken planks and rotten wood, finally stopping outside a broken window.

Zig peered inside from the window sill—and sure enough, the five girls from Kawaki Village were inside.