I'm not a Witcher anymore.

Zig stood up, brushed the wet mud off his palms, and followed the trail of footprints deeper into the woods.

He walked very quietly.

Before each step, the toe of the boot would test the ground, avoiding dead branches, pebbles, and thick layers of decaying leaves.

His right hand always hangs at his waist, not far from the hilt of the sword, so he can draw the sword with a simple raise.

The further you go into the forest, the dimmer the light becomes.

The tree canopy narrowed overhead, shattering the already limited sunlight.

The footprints were scattered among the wet mud, grass roots, and rocks, intermittent but not chaotic enough to shake him off.

Zieg followed the trail for about fifteen minutes.

The terrain ahead gradually rises, and a low hillside lies across the forest, covered with piles of rocks and shrubs, their branches and leaves intertwined.

He stopped, using a thick oak tree for cover, and squinted to look ahead.

Soon, he spotted a cave entrance in the middle of the hillside.

The cave entrance was nestled between rock crevices. It wasn't large, and the edges were covered in black grime. The inside was so dark and heavy that it seemed to swallow up all the surrounding light.

Even from a distance, you could smell the fishy and rotten stench emanating from it.

The entrance is not high; an adult has to bend down to get in. It is wide enough, though, so two people can barely stand side by side.

The wet mud outside the entrance was covered with countless footprints.

The forefoot is wide, and the toes are short, thick, and spread outwards.

Exactly the same as those left by the lake.

Zig looked at the hole but didn't go over immediately.

The cave was too narrow.

The lighting was poor and the terrain was cramped.

If we really try to break in, it will be difficult to use the longsword effectively, as our line of sight and foothold will be limited.

But those green-skinned monsters who spend their lives huddled in the darkness are more adapted to this kind of place.

It's not worth it to use your weaknesses to attack their nest.

Zig stood behind the tree, his gaze quietly sweeping across the area around the cave entrance, quickly going over possible solutions in his mind.

Forcing our way in won't work.

Then let's lure them out.

Goblins always react faster to blood and raw meat than to danger.

Once they smell the odor, their pitiful brains probably won't last long.

With a slight thought, Zieg took out a piece of raw meat with bone in it from the Book of Adventure.

That was originally his reserve of food for the journey.

The meat chunks were still fresh, with blood still clinging to the edges, giving them a strong, slightly fishy, ​​and sweet smell.

He walked quickly to an open space a few steps away from the cave entrance, bent down, and threw the meat into the mud.

As the chunk of meat fell, a few drops of blood splashed out and quickly seeped into the ground.

The wind swept past the cave entrance, carrying the scent of fresh flesh and blood into it little by little.

Zig did not stop.

After setting down the bait, he immediately turned and retreated, silently circling around to behind a protruding rock platform above the cave entrance.

That spot was about three meters off the ground, directly blocking the blind spot below.

He crouched down and slowly drew the steel sword from his waist.

When the sword was drawn, there was only a very soft scraping sound.

Zig lay prone on the edge of the rock, his gaze passing over the shadows below and landing on the bloody piece of raw flesh, quietly waiting for whatever was inside the cave to come out smelling it.

It was faster than he had expected.

Not long after, a faint commotion came from inside the cave.

First came a rustling, grinding sound, as if something was trying to squeeze out of the narrow crevice in the stone.

Immediately following were several low, hoarse cries, carrying the goblin's characteristic hissing and greed.

The smell of blood and flesh had clearly already seeped inside.

Zig lay motionless on the edge of the rock platform.

The piece of raw, bloody meat below was still lying in the mud, emitting waves of a sweet, fishy smell.

The sounds from deep within the cave were getting closer and closer, with disordered footsteps treading on gravel and wet mud, pushing them all the way to the outside.

Soon, four goblins squeezed out of the hole.

They were short in stature but quick in their movements; as soon as they peeked out, their blood-red eyes were fixed on the piece of flesh.

No one looked up, nor did anyone look around, as if nothing in front of them was worth their attention except for that bit of bloody raw flesh.

The next moment, the four monsters rushed forward one after another.

Zieg then moved.

He pushed off the rock platform with his feet and plunged straight down.

The wind whispered past my ear.

The goblins had barely touched the meat on the ground when a dark shadow slammed down on them from above.

A muffled thud.

Zig landed on his feet, his heavy leather boots slamming down on the back of the goblin at the front.

Before the monster could even raise its head, its back collapsed, and it was stomped into the mud.

The sound of bones breaking rang out immediately.

Short, crisp, and enough to make your teeth chatter.

The goblin lay face down in the mud, blood and foam gushing from its mouth and nose. Its limbs were still kicking wildly, but its spine was completely broken.

Zieg didn't go to see it.

As he landed, he twisted his waist and swung his steel sword out.

The sword light swept past him.

The two goblins standing closest to the blow were stunned and hadn't even reacted when a bloody gash exploded in their chests and abdomens at the same time.

The sword cut very deep.

The skin was torn open from the chest down to the ribs, the flesh rolled back, and blood gushed out immediately.

The two goblins staggered backward, clutching their wounds, letting out shrill and chaotic screams. Their internal organs and blood slid out of their ruptured abdominal cavities. After only a few steps, they fell into the mud one after the other, never to get up again.

Only one is left.

The goblin stood frozen in place, its stone spear still raised, but it dared not move forward any further.

It stared at the several still-bleeding corpses on the ground, letting out a few trembling low growls, and its hand gripping the weapon trembled as well.

The next moment, it suddenly threw the stone spear to its feet.

thump.

The monster's knees buckled, and it knelt down, raising its two thin arms high and lowering its head. It let out a few muffled and high-pitched whimpers, as if begging for mercy.

Zig stopped and glanced at it.

The sword tip hung askew, and blood trickled down its spine, leaving tiny red dots in the mud.

The goblin knelt very low, but its shoulders and back did not truly relax.

The muscles on both sides of his neck were still taut, and his fingers were tightly curled, as if he was waiting for someone to get closer, waiting for an opportunity to pounce.

Zieg did not press any further.

He didn't say anything.

He simply raised his hand and drew his sword.

A cold light slashed down diagonally.

The goblin had barely raised its head a little, and before it could even utter a sound, the sword had already sliced ​​through its left shoulder, tearing through flesh and chest cavity, and exiting from its right rib.

Blood splattered violently.

The monster was thrown to the side by the sword, its mouth agape, only gushing out large mouthfuls of blood and foam.

Its eyes were fixed on Zig, still filled with shock, anger, and resentment, but its body could no longer hold on.

The next moment, the body collapsed to the ground with a thud.

His limbs twitched twice, then he became completely still.

The area outside the cave entrance fell silent again.

Zig wiped the blood off his sword, took a piece of linen from the Book of Adventure, and slowly wiped the blade.

He didn't look at the goblin a second time.

This kind of creature will beg for mercy, feign weakness, and then pounce on you and bite your throat when you let your guard down.

Since that's the case, there's no need to hold back.

For Zig, confirming that it was truly dead was more important than hearing it bark a few more times.