I'm not a Witcher anymore.

"Aaaaaahh ...

The tomb witch let out a piercing wail, so sharp it almost shattered eardrums.

It covered its mouth, and blood seeped from between its fingers, dripping onto the ground.

Zig gave it no chance to catch its breath and charged forward with his sword.

Unexpectedly, the tomb witch turned and ran away.

It gave up fighting and turned to dart into the deeper woods.

Despite its injury, it was still quite fast, running wildly on all fours, as agile as a wild beast.

Zieg gave chase. Another pursuit ensued, one fleeing and the other chasing, weaving through the woods.

After running for several dozen meters, suddenly, a clump of black mud flew from the front!

It was a mass of mud that the tomb witch had grabbed from the ground as she ran, mixed with rotting leaves and some kind of sticky secretion, and it smelled foul.

Without turning its head, it threw the mud behind it, aiming directly at Zig's face.

If Zieg hadn't reacted quickly, he would have definitely been hit squarely.

He tilted his head to the side, and mud flew past his cheek, landing on the tree trunk behind him.

But just as Zieg dodged the attack, a dark shadow lunged at him.

The tomb witch clearly considered this a fatal blow.

The monster charged forward, its claws outstretched, and the stench of decay from its mouth assaulted the senses.

Sieg twisted his body and slashed back.

Langrisser slashed across the approaching shadow, his sword flashing so fast that only a cold glint remained.

Two figures passed each other.

The tomb witch landed still in a pouncing stance, and it wasn't until she stumbled forward a few steps that the wound truly reopened.

Its upper body slowly slid off its body and fell to the ground with a dull thud.

The tomb witch finally showed an expression of astonishment and fear.

Its mangled body twitched a few times on the ground, the eerie light in its eyes gradually extinguished in despair, turning into a pool of rotting flesh that emitted a foul stench.

Zieg stood still, slowly sheathing his sword.

When he dragged the tomb witch's withered and twisted upper body back to the village, the sun had completely sunk below the horizon.

He walked in from the village entrance, the monster's remains dragging along the rough dirt road, making a teeth-grinding rustling sound.

The villagers are gathered at the village entrance, anxiously awaiting news.

When they saw that Zig had appeared dragging half of a hideous monster, a scream erupted from the crowd, and everyone involuntarily took a few steps back.

"This...this is the monster?" the bearded man asked, his voice trembling.

"right."

Zieg casually released his grip, tossing the tomb witch's heavy upper body to the ground.

Not much blood flowed from the monster's broken skin; only some foul-smelling black liquid seeped into the soil.

The elder, leaning on his cane, walked over shakily, his cloudy eyes fixed on the corpse of the tomb witch on the ground.

Even though the monster was dead beyond any doubt, it still sent a chill down his spine.

"Sir, thank you for dealing with this monster for us. Please wait a moment, I'll go get the reward right away."

After he finished speaking, he turned around and went into the house.

Not long after, the elder came out again with a money bag.

The bag was heavy, filled with the dull thud of gold coins clinking together.

The people standing at the village entrance glanced over instinctively, clearly feeling a pang of regret, but no one uttered a sound at that moment.

The elder walked up to Zig and handed him the money bag.

"The notice said one hundred ducats. Not a single one was missing, and none of them were tampered with. You did the job for us, so this is what you deserve."

Zig took the money bag, opened it, and glanced at it.

Inside were one hundred Ducati gold coins, all of high quality, without any silver or copper coins mixed in, and without any trimmed edges.

He nodded slightly.

"The cemetery has been cleaned up."

"Don't let anyone go over there tonight. Wait until the sun is up tomorrow morning before going to collect those bodies and bury them."

The elder nodded repeatedly.

"We understand, sir."

The villagers nearby also made way for them, their attitude even more respectful than before.

Zig didn't say anything more, put away the money bag, and turned to leave the village.

……

After leaving the village, Zig continued on his journey.

Three weeks later, he finally arrived at a town called "Ban Green" in the southernmost part of Cordwin.

Ben Green is a town built on the north bank of the Pontal River, near the confluence of the Lake Hilla and Pontal Rivers.

The town itself is not large, but because it is located on a major waterway, it has always been a place for merchants traveling from the north and south to rest, exchange goods, and board ships.

Following the Pontal River downstream, it won't be long before you enter Temuria.

That's why, although this place is just a small border town, it has always been quite lively.

There's a dock outside the town, and warehouses, taverns, and coachmen and stable hands who work for caravans inside. People come and go every day, and you can hear all kinds of accents.

Ben Green was surrounded by a low stone wall.

This defensive line was clearly built only to defend against bandits, raiders, and fleeing soldiers, and was not sufficient to withstand a long-term siege by a regular army.

From afar, the flag of Cordwin still fluttered atop the city walls, rising and falling gently in the river breeze.

Since the outbreak of the Third Northern War, the area south of the Pontal River has been engulfed in war and turmoil.

The reason why the flag of Cordwin can still be flown here is not because the defenses of Ben Green are so impregnable, nor because Cordwin has any outstanding commander stationed here.

The real reason, however, lies in the south.

The Nilfgaards paid a heavy price in the Second Northern War.

That time, their offensive was too swift; they annexed Lyrialivia and Aden in just over ten days.

The ability to conquer a castle does not guarantee the safety of the rear.

Queen Meve led her remaining forces into the mountains and forests, constantly harassing the Empire's supply lines, outposts, and garrisons, causing the Nilfgaardians a great deal of trouble.

The imperial flags flew over those lands, yet the army could barely move an inch, and its supplies were repeatedly plundered.

This time, Nilfgaard clearly has no intention of repeating the same mistake.

The Imperial Army's advance slowed considerably. After conquering each area, they first had to completely eliminate the local resistance forces, purging them one by one, before establishing a puppet regime that obeyed them and installing their cronies.

Only after the occupied territories are completely secured will the army continue its northward advance.

Moreover, the situation in the north is now even worse than during the previous two wars.

Several northern rulers were assassinated one after another, and the remaining kingdoms became suspicious of each other and harbored their own ulterior motives. The alliance that had fought side by side in the past had long since fallen apart.

Nilfgaard only needs to stabilize its rear, and the resistance at the front will naturally disintegrate.

Because the main force of the Empire on the eastern front was still encroaching on territory south of the Pontal River and advancing step by step, key places like Ben Green were able to survive temporarily and remain in the hands of Cordwin.

But everyone knows that this is only temporary.

How long that flag can remain flying on the city wall depends entirely on when the imperial army from the south crosses the Pontal River.

When they were still some distance from Ben Green, Zieg sensed something was wrong.

Along the road leading to the town, you can see several figures every short distance.

Those people were not regular soldiers, but farmers who had been temporarily pulled out to patrol the road.

They held pitchforks, sticks, or other farm tools in their hands.

Their arms were all wrapped with strips of cloth of different colors and tied haphazardly, seemingly to bolster their courage and, incidentally, to signal to passersby:

They weren't robbing people; they were doing business for the town.

The further you go, the more of this kind of scene you'll see.

The checkpoints along the way became increasingly dense.

The roadside was filled with wary eyes that scrutinized the merchants and travelers. A wretched horse-drawn carriage was forcibly stopped in the middle of the road by several farmers, and its goods were turned upside down.

Behind them, two other people were holding a crumpled wanted poster and comparing it to other people's pictures. The portrait on the poster was very messy and looked like a drunkard's doodle.

Those who were stopped all looked unpleasant, but no one dared to make a scene at this moment.

Although the flames of war have not yet reached the city of Banglin, the panic and suspicion brought about by the war have already blocked this vital border route.

Although Zieg's Wolf School leather armor was covered in the dust of his journey, the sword at his waist was clearly not an armament that refugees or mercenaries could afford.

When the farmers guarding the road saw him from afar, their faces immediately changed.

Their eyes lingered on his armor and sword hilt, exchanging glances as if they wanted to question him, but ultimately none of them dared to take action.

Zieg didn't stop walking, ignoring the stares of the people around him, and went straight to Ben Green.

He just wanted to get into town as soon as possible, find a boat to go downstream, leave Cordwin, and head to the relatively safe Novigrad.

The storm of war was brewing, and he had no desire to be drawn into the impending disaster.