I'm not a Witcher anymore.

For the next two weeks, the team spent their time immersed in the underground sewers of the Water City.

There is neither day nor night here.

Above us was always a damp, cold stone ceiling, and at our feet was always flowing black, foul-smelling sewage.

As time went on, even the passage of time became blurred, and the group could only rely on their physical exhaustion and hunger to barely tell how long they had been gone.

For the past two weeks, they only occasionally returned to the surface to rest. After replenishing their supplies, they would descend back down the well and stone steps into that perpetually dark place.

Even the goblins in the underground sewers are not entirely without order.

They hide behind corners, crouch in the shadows of high places, and ambush people by using sewers and side roads, swarming in when they step into the spot they've chosen.

But having pushed along the way, the team had long since developed a high level of vigilance.

In addition, with the map provided by the Sword Maiden, the convenience brought by "Prelude: Cat" and the Poisonous Vine, and the already good combat reaction of everyone, most of the ambushes set up by the goblins ended up becoming traps that led to their own deaths.

Half a month later, they had explored almost all of the underground waterways of the Water City.

But there's still one road on the map that I haven't been to yet.

That road was the same direction from which those two small boats full of goblins had sailed just half a month ago.

……

Going upstream along the sewage discharge channel, the team began a new exploration.

At first, there wasn't much change in the surroundings.

It was the same familiar stone walkway, the same damp and stuffy air, and the same unpleasant smell of sewage and mold.

Footsteps echoed on the stone path, each one carrying outwards before being reflected back by the stone walls on either side.

The further Zig went, the more uneasy he felt.

The first thing to change was the wall.

The originally rough and messy stones, which were only for practical purposes, gradually became neat and orderly.

The cracks in the stone are sealed tighter, and the edges are polished smoother. Even the water stains and moss that are common on the walls seem to be much less noticeable here.

Further along, the changes become even more pronounced.

The stone paths and arches built solely for drainage have been replaced by more refined patterns and decorations.

The walls on both sides are no longer just cold, hard, and rough stone; carvings and lines have even emerged on them.

After walking for another two or three hours, the originally cramped and monotonous waterway gradually transformed into a much more spacious underground corridor.

Even the murky, foul-smelling sewage channel in the center has become clear without anyone knowing when it started.

The water flowed slowly along the stone trough, making a gurgling sound. Compared to the nauseating stench from before, it seemed unusually quiet.

"These murals..." Ravenna raised her torch, casting its light on the walls, her tone unusually detached from its usual joking tone, "They look quite old. And they seem to depict battles?"

The firelight flickered across the stone wall, revealing murals one by one.

Time has left its mark and cracks, but the general outline remains clear.

The painting depicts not a sacrificial ceremony, nor a royal hunt, but a vast battlefield.

Humans, elves, and dwarves fought side by side, their swords, spears, arrows, and spells clashing in a chaotic melee.

Further away, a vast array of twisted and terrifying monsters pressed in from the darkness, and at the far end of the scene stood an exceptionally large black figure. Even though it was just a mural, it still instinctively made people feel oppressed.

Valeria looked at it for a moment, then turned her head and asked, "Hill, do you recognize it?"

Hill moved closer, looking at the ancient images that covered almost the entire stone wall, his gaze lingering on a few details.

After a moment, she spoke softly:

"I have some recollection of it. The elders in my clan mentioned that a great war was fought in this area three hundred years ago. Humans, elves, dwarves, and other races were all involved, and their opponent was the army of the Demon King."

"The Allied forces won that battle, but many people died. Later, a cemetery was built under the battlefield to commemorate those who died in the battle."

Valeria picked up the thread: "The border heroes' graveyard?"

"This is probably the place." Hill nodded.

Ravenna, holding her torch, couldn't help but look around again: "There's actually a place like this connected to the bottom of Water Seven..."

Before she could finish speaking, Valeria seemed to remember something, and her expression changed.

"No, those two ships full of goblins that we encountered half a month ago came from this direction."

Everyone understood what she meant.

Since the ship came from here, it means that this place is no longer some forgotten ancient tomb.

It has now most likely become a goblin's lair.

The air in the corridor seemed to suddenly turn several degrees colder.

No one said anything more; they simply tightened their grip on their weapons and even moved their feet more quietly.

After exploring for about fifteen minutes, a tomb chamber with its door open came into view.

The place was very spacious, with stone walls covered in reliefs and seven or eight stone coffins neatly arranged on the ground.

The stone coffins were exquisitely crafted, with different emblems and inscriptions carved on each coffin lid. Even if one couldn't recognize them all, it was clear that the person buried here was no ordinary person.

But what truly makes people stop in their tracks is not these stone coffins.

It was in the very center of the tomb chamber.

There was a woman hanging there.

A rough rope hung down from above, suspending her up, her head drooping limply, motionless.

She was still wearing metal armor, which, though stained and old, showed through its style, wear and tear, and the way the armor was pieced together that she was no ordinary civilian who had wandered in by mistake, but an adventurer who had been to the battlefield and dungeons.

"Zig."

Hill took Zig's hand.

He nodded.

The next moment, the poisonous vine that had been clinging to the wall climbed up the stone wall beside the door and silently ascended to the top of the tomb chamber, like a snake lurking in the shadows.

The poisonous vines slowly crept up the dome of the tomb chamber, using the shadows above to get close to the suspended "woman".

From the front, the armor looked like a person, but when the view shifted to the back, all that could be seen through the shared vision of the Venomous Vine was a skeleton hanging by ropes.

His head hung low, his ribs were half-exposed, and there was no flesh or blood under his armor.

It's not a living person at all.

Behind the skeleton, the stone walls on both sides are covered with a dense array of tiny holes, which look like decorations from a distance, but are particularly glaring when you get closer.

Zieg had already made up his mind.

"Don't go in. That's not a living person, it's just a skeleton hanging there."

Valeria turned her head and asked, "Anything else?"

Zieg stared intently at the tomb chamber, his gaze fixed on it. "Those holes in the walls don't look like decorations either. There's only one door here; once you're inside, it's hard to get out."

Ravenna followed his gaze and glanced inside, her expression changing as well: "So I can't even sneak in and put her down?"

"No," Zieg interrupted her directly. "That thing was bait. Going in now would be exactly what they want."