I'm not a Witcher anymore.

After entering Ben Green, Zig did not venture deeper into the town.

The sun was setting behind the rooftops, but the streets remained bustling.

The carriage rolled along the stone-paved road, people were unloading barrels of wine in front of the tavern, and the oven door of the bakery opened, sending steam and the aroma of wheat wafting into the street.

Zieg stopped in front of a bakery.

The shop wasn't big, but the aroma wafting from the door was very tempting—freshly baked rye bread, still warm, with its crispy crust, made him feel ravenous after a long day's journey.

"Welcome!" the shop owner, a chubby middle-aged man wearing an apron covered in flour, greeted us with a beaming smile. "What would you like to order?"

Zig glanced at it briefly: "Give me a few rye breads."

The shop owner deftly took several loaves of bread from the shelf and wrapped them in coarse cloth.

Among the money Vesemir gave was the currency commonly used by the northern kingdoms.

Zig took out the money and put it on the table. The shopkeeper accepted it quickly and started talking more.

"You're from out of town, aren't you? Judging from your appearance, you must have come from the north?"

Zig took the wrapped bread. "Yes, we've come all this way and would like to rest in town for the night. By the way, are there any decent hotels around here?"

"If you want something decent, go to the Silver Perch Hotel. It's next to the City Hall; it's clean, the food is good, but it's a bit pricey."

The shopkeeper shoved the coins into the drawer and added, "There are ferry inns over at the dock, they're cheaper. As for the old oak house behind the fish market... it's a place to sleep, but the rooms are small and the smell is strong. If you don't mind spending a few more coins, you'd better not go there and suffer."

After Siegfried's two neighbors, he asked, "Which direction is the Silver Perch Inn in?"

The shop owner pointed to the end of the street.

"Then you're in luck. Just keep going down this street, turn right when you see the clock tower of the city hall, and walk another two hundred steps. The sign is easy to spot; it has a silver fish on it."

"Thank you." Zieg nodded and followed the shopkeeper's directions to the Silver Perch Inn.

Just as the owner said, the Silver Perch Inn was easy to find.

It was a two-story wooden and stone building with fairly clean exterior walls. The sign featured a silver bass leaping out of the water, shimmering in the setting sun.

Several horses were tied up at the entrance of the hotel, indicating that there were indeed quite a few guests.

Zieg pushed open the door and entered.

There were more than a dozen tables in the hall, and quite a few people were sitting there. Some were eating, some were talking quietly, and a few people who looked like businessmen were discussing something in a corner.

The air was filled with the aromas of malt liquor, stew, and burning firewood, which was quite warm and comforting.

"Welcome," said the proprietress behind the counter, a woman in her forties, neatly dressed. "Need a room?"

"Yes, a single room, for one night," Zig said as he walked to the counter.

The proprietress accepted the money and took a key from the wooden hook behind her.

"You're lucky, there's only one room left. If you had come half an hour later, there probably wouldn't have been any left."

She pushed the key in front of Zig: "Room 7 on the second floor. The stairs are over there. Dinner is served from now until 9 p.m., with stew, grilled fish, and vegetable soup to choose from. Call me anytime if you need anything."

Zieg thanked him and turned to go upstairs.

Room number seven is located in the middle of the corridor. The door is thick and provides decent sound insulation.

Zig opened the door with his key. The room was small but tidy—a single bed, a small table, a chair, a shelf for toiletries, and a ceramic jar filled with water.

The window faces the street, and you can see the sky gradually darkening outside.

He stretched his slightly sore shoulders and was about to sit down to rest when he suddenly heard a sound coming from the next room.

The voice came from room number six, right next to his.

The hotel walls were quite thick; an ordinary person would probably only be able to hear a few muffled arguments.

But once Zig got closer to the wall, he quickly realized there were about eight or nine people inside.

They were talking about a dwarf and a human.

"We've found them," a gruff-voiced man said, a hint of undisguised smugness in his voice. "They're in the shack behind the fish market. I told you, those two guys couldn't have gone far."

"The fish market?" Another, younger voice rose a little. "I knew those fish-smelling bastards couldn't be trusted. The men in black haven't even crossed the river yet, and they're already taking in stuff fleeing from the south. When the men in black actually arrive, they'll be the first to lead the way."

"Alright," the third person spoke, his voice low. "What's the point of saying all this now? King Henselt is dead, and everyone knows how chaotic things are in Cordwin."

No one in the room responded for a moment.

The man continued, "Let the noble lords talk about surrender and loyalty. For us, the most important thing is to find a way to survive."

After a moment of silence, a timid voice rang out.

"But I still don't understand," he said. "Everything's in such chaos right now, everyone's just trying to escape, why do we have to go looking for trouble with those two?"

"Are you really that clueless, or are you just playing dumb?" the gruff voice snapped immediately. "A dwarf and a human, coming from the south and hiding in a place like a fish market. What kind of decent people do you think they could be?"

The young man was so scolded that he didn't dare to say a word.

Just then, a slow, leisurely voice broke in.

The voice had a smooth, experienced quality, like someone who regularly acted as a go-between at docks, pubs, and markets.

"He's not a local, so it's normal that he doesn't know," the man said.

"My home is near Waterville," the young man explained quietly. "I only escaped here last year."

"No wonder." The man chuckled. "You've probably only heard about the war in Upper Aden, but you don't know what happened to Phrygian afterwards."

"Dexter," the gruff voice said impatiently, "just get to the point, don't beat around the bush again."

"What's the rush?" Dexter said calmly. "If you don't explain yourself clearly, do you dare come with me to confront those two?"

The room became quieter.

Dexter said, "Phetch was originally a city in Upper Aden. After the death of Demavi III, the kingdom of Aden fell into chaos, and King Henset also set his sights on that land. But at that time, a woman appeared in Phetch, claiming that she would make it possible for humans, elves, dwarves, and gnomes to live there."

Someone sneered, "That's easy for you to say."

"Whether it sounded good or not is another matter," Dexter said. "Back then, a lot of people believed it. Especially those non-human races, who had had enough of the scorn and oppression from humans. When they heard that Fergen was willing to take them in, they brought their families and ran over there."

The young man hesitated for a moment: "Who is that woman?"

"Sakia. Sakia the Dragon Slayer."

"A dragon slayer?" The young man was taken aback.

Dexter explained, "That was the reputation she earned back then. It's said that a dragon once appeared near Vergen, burned down the village, and ate a lot of livestock. Later, Saskia went into the valley alone and came out the next day covered in blood, saying that the dragon was dead. From then on, the people of Vergen regarded her as a hero."

A gruff voice snorted, "Didn't it all get out later? She herself was that dragon."

"Yes," Dexter didn't deny it. "After the rumors spread, everyone realized that Satya wasn't an ordinary woman at all. She was a dragon that could transform into human form."