I'm not a Witcher anymore.

In a corner of the main hall, the five kidnapped girls were indeed still alive, huddled beside wooden boxes and tattered rolls of cloth, their faces pale and too terrified to utter a sound.

The ones guarding them were not the ordinary goblins who were fast asleep outside.

Ten more elite guards were stationed in the main hall, watching over that corner along with the entrance.

Deeper inside, sat a large, powerful goblin. Even its silhouette, looming in the shadows, was far beyond that of an ordinary goblin.

After confirming the situation inside the main castle, Sieg ordered the Venomous Vine to retreat.

While the goblins in the outer village were fast asleep and unaware, he tied an inconspicuous little cloth bag to the vine.

He manipulated the poisonous vine to throw the cloth bag into the reservoir, where it landed in a shady corner. He then let it climb back up the tree and hide it before regaining his composure and retreating into the shadows with Hill and Ravenna.

After returning, he recounted what he had discovered during his second reconnaissance.

The five girls are still alive, but there are ten guards stationed in the main castle, as well as a creature whose strength may be greater than that of an ordinary goblin.

The more than one hundred goblins sleeping in the outer fortress, the remaining alarm traps, and the narrow passage leading to the main fortress made it almost impossible to sneak in and quietly bring someone out.

Of course, the reason I say "almost" is because on the way back, Zieg had already come up with a solution.

……

Two hours later.

The once quiet town quickly became noisy again.

Rough shouts, scrambling, and curses echoed throughout the village, like a pack of wild beasts awakened from their slumber.

The first thing those goblins, who were thinner and of the lowest status, did after getting up was to start a fire and cook.

Their so-called cooking is nothing more than throwing skinned, chopped meat, along with the blood, into a pot.

The meat was still covered in mud, hair, and bits of entrails, and the stench rose up with the steam, making people want to vomit.

As soon as steam rose from the pot, the surrounding goblins could no longer contain themselves. They swarmed forward, knocking over the few skinny members of their kind responsible for cooking, and began tearing at the pot in a chaotic melee.

Once the chaos subsided, most goblins managed to grab some food, leaving only a few unlucky ones licking the bottom of the pot and picking up scraps of meat.

After filling their stomachs, many goblins rushed to the reservoir outside the back door to drink water. There were as many as forty or fifty of them. They lay on the edge of the reservoir and drank like livestock.

After they had drunk their fill, they dispersed contentedly, and the stronghold returned to its previous noisy and chaotic state.

Half an hour later, the effects of the drug began to take hold. The first to succumb was a goblin that had drunk the most.

Its face turned pale, and clutching its stomach, it rushed towards the wooden wall, then burst into a series of loud noises that made one's scalp crawl. This startled its companions at first, and then they burst into laughter.

Before long, the second and third also arched their backs and started running.

All the goblins that had just gulped down water from the pool were subsequently affected.

Chaos reigned in the walled city.

The spot next to the wooden wall, originally used for urination, was quickly filled with rows of goblins squatting there, creating a stench and a cacophony of sounds.

As the attacks became more and more frequent, the area along the wall was simply not enough, and many goblins were frantically running around on the ground, eventually resorting to relieving themselves on the spot.

The entire outer village was filled with goblins writhing in pain, and the stench was overwhelming; the situation was completely out of control.

Worse still, this round isn't over yet.

Many goblins had barely gotten up when their stomachs started churning again, forcing them to squat down once more.

After several rounds of this, the entire fortress became a huge cesspool, with screams, curses, and wails coming one after another without ever stopping.

Sieg stared at the image transmitted from the other end of the Poisonous Vine, then turned to look at Valeria.

"The medicine is working. Most of those who drank the pool water have already poured it out."

Valeria glanced toward the fortress as he spoke.

The outer village was already in chaos. Goblins were running around everywhere, clutching their bellies, along the walls, beside abandoned houses, and in open spaces.

Those who were still able to stand firm were mostly agitated by the stench and chaos, and no longer cared about maintaining any formation.

"Hill, please."

Hill raised the wooden staff in his hand.

She uttered a string of soft, hurried syllables, and the dull crystal at the tip of her staff emitted a faint bluish light, like a wisp of mist that silently brushed past their shoulders.

Zig immediately felt a slight lightness in his body, as if an invisible film was covering his skin.

As the wind blew through the woods, the chill was somewhat reduced.

Even more strangely, a vague yet clear intuition suddenly arose in his mind—if an arrow were to be shot, its trajectory would most likely be deflected by this protective layer.

"The protection from arrows," Hill whispered. "Enough for what the goblins are shooting at."

Valeria had raised her kite shield to her front, her longsword half-drawn, her whole being resembling a bow stretched to its limit.

"Let's proceed as planned!"

The group burst out from the shadows of the trees.

The gap in the wooden fence was right in front of us.

Valeria charged ahead, her kite-shaped shield lowered, her shoulders slightly hunched, and she strode across the patch of weeds and broken wood in a few steps.

Ravenna darted in from her left rear, her shortbow already drawn. Sieg didn't rush alongside them to gain that extra distance, but instead lagged slightly behind.

The yew wood longbow, formed from countless specks of light, appeared in his palm.

His gaze fell upon the crumbling wall above the back door.

Sure enough, a goblin sentry was crouching near the base of the half-collapsed watchtower.

It was initially stunned by the chaos in the fortress, but when it heard footsteps coming from the breach, it suddenly turned its head.

The moment those cloudy, yellowish eyes met the figures rushing in, his throat instinctively bulged.

Zieg has already released the string.

The first arrow flew extremely fast, piercing directly into its open mouth.

The goblin jerked its head back sharply, its scream choked in its throat, only managing a muffled whimper.

The second arrow followed immediately.

The arrowhead pierced its left eye, and a spray of black blood gushed from the back of its head.

The thing couldn't even get a firm grip on the wooden stake; it tilted to one side and tumbled down from the broken, high place, crashing into the pile of rubble below.

Meanwhile, there was also some activity from the ancient tree.

The goblin sentinel crouching among the thick branches was clearly more alert than the one on the tower.

Hearing the commotion below and spotting the adventurers rushing through the gap, it immediately grabbed the shortbow on its back and leaned half its body out of the branch.

But the dark green shadow above its head, which had been huddled up and motionless, blending into the bark and vines, also came to life at this moment.

The poisonous vine suddenly fell.

The bud-like tip first struck the goblin's nape, then the entire vine coiled around its neck and tightened around it.

Before the goblin in the tree could even draw its bow, a series of strange, rapid, and hoarse sounds burst from its throat.

Its two claws tried desperately to pull at the flower vines wrapped around its neck, but its nails scraped against the dark green and blackish skin with a harsh, grating sound.

The poisonous vines tightened their grip even further.

The goblin's face quickly turned purplish-black, its eyes bulged, and its feet began to kick wildly.

The short bow slipped from its hand and fell down the branch.

Its entire body suddenly went limp, as if its bones had been removed, and it hung askew on the branch, motionless.

The two sentries were killed one after the other, within seconds of each other.

The commotion on this side of the breach eventually alerted the outer village.

The first to react were a few goblins who hadn't even touched the water in the first place.

They grabbed wooden spears and broken knives, and charged at the group with shrill cries.

Further away, the goblins who were still able to stand were also startled by the sounds of battle and turned to look, whereupon an even more chaotic howl erupted in the stronghold.

However, this time, far fewer people rushed forward than should have been.

A large number of goblins remained sprawled on the ground, curled up in a ball, their faces pale and their legs weak.

Some of them had just gotten up when they knelt back down, their forehead veins throbbing, unable to even hold their weapons steady.

Some of them had only taken two steps when their stomachs churned again, and they screamed and turned to run towards the wall.

Some even fell into the mud, cursing and trembling, unable to even stand up straight.

Of those who could still charge forward with weapons, only half remained, and they were not even in formation.

Valeria's gaze swept over the chaos ahead, and her voice suddenly deepened.

"Charge! Don't give them a chance to gather!"

She pushed off with her foot, and her shield slammed into the goblin at the front.