I'm not a Witcher anymore.

Zoltan was stunned, his face full of confusion:

"The treasure of Fujian? What's that? I have no idea that Fujian has any treasure."

"I knew these dwarves weren't being honest," someone in the crowd sneered. "Why waste words with them? Just beat them up first, beat them until they beg for mercy, and they'll confess everything."

The others echoed this sentiment, gripping their weapons tightly and beginning to approach the two men.

"Damn it, Dandelion, you've ruined me!" Zoltan said through gritted teeth, his eyes fixed on the mob that surrounded him. "I didn't die at the hands of the Nilfgaardians, nor on the battlefield of Felgen, but I'm going to fall at the hands of these money-grubbing farmers."

"I'm sorry, Zoltan..." Dandelion's voice trembled, clearly terrified.

"What's the point of saying this now?" Zoltan growled. "When I yell 'run' later, you run to the river and jump in, swim as far as you can! Don't worry about me, with your small frame, staying here will only get you killed."

"But……"

"No buts!" Zoltan interrupted him. "Remember, run to the river, jump in, and swim downstream to find a place to get ashore. If you're lucky, you might survive."

The thugs were already very close, and the torchlight illuminated their faces, revealing ferocious smiles.

Seeing that they were about to take action, Sieg reactivated his magic.

Wind step!

The airflow swirls up along her legs.

The next moment, he leaped off the edge of the roof. Not only was he unharmed, but the sound of his landing was barely audible—only a slight ripple of air and the rustling of his clothes, instantly masked by the night wind and the sound of the river.

Zig's figure, like a ghost in the night, silently landed less than three meters away from the thugs.

Languriza is drawn.

A silvery light flashed in the moonlight.

The first thug didn't even have time to react before his head flew off.

The moment the blade sliced ​​through the neck bone, it encountered almost no resistance, as cleanly and neatly as slicing through a block of butter.

Before the blood could even spray, Sieg's figure rushed towards his next target.

He's too fast.

As he rushed behind the second man, the first corpse whose head he had chopped off lost its balance and fell heavily to the ground with a dull thud.

The head rolled twice on the ground, its wide eyes still showing confusion and fear.

"What—"

The second man had barely realized someone was behind him when, before he could finish speaking, the tip of the sword pierced his back.

The sword tip pierced through the ribs and went straight into the heart.

The thug froze, letting out a muffled groan as his hands fell limply to his sides, the wooden stick in his hand dropping to the ground.

Zieg drew his sword and simultaneously kicked the corpse in the back, sending it flying toward a third person nearby.

"Who? Who is it...?"

Just as the third person was about to shout a warning, the kicked-away corpse crashed into him, causing him to stumble.

He pushed the body aside in horror, looked up, and saw that Zieg had already rushed in front of him.

A single sword sweeps across.

The blade sliced ​​across his neck, cutting through his trachea and carotid artery.

Blood gushed out like a fountain. He clutched his neck, making gurgling sounds in his throat, staggered back two steps, and finally knelt on the ground.

The whole process took less than five seconds.

Three people are already dead.

It wasn't until the third body fell to its knees that the remaining thugs finally realized what had happened.

"Who is it?"

"Quick, stop him!"

The remaining five thugs panicked. Some raised torches to try and see what the enemy looked like, some gripped their weapons to fight back, and some even turned to run away.

Zig did not pause.

Two thugs reacted the fastest, lunging at him from both sides simultaneously; one wielded a rusty longsword, and the other held a short knife.

He turned his foot and easily dodged the longsword's slash.

Then, with a swift stroke, Langurisa slashed open the man's abdomen, and his internal organs and blood gushed out.

The thug, gripping the dagger in reverse, attacked from behind, but he had already heard it.

He drew a short sword from his waist with his left hand and threw it behind him without turning his head.

The short sword drew a silver arc in the air and struck the man's throat with precision.

The thug's eyes widened, the dagger in his hand fell to the ground, and he futilely reached for the short sword against his throat, making a hoarse, escaping sound.

He staggered a few steps, then fell backward, twitched a few times, and stopped moving.

There are three left.

Two of them completely broke down and turned to run away.

The air currents still clung to Zieg's legs as he took a step forward, his figure disappearing into the shadows beyond the reach of the torchlight.

The nearest escapee had only taken a few steps when he heard the wind rushing closer from behind.

He instinctively turned around, only to catch a glimpse of a silver light in his field of vision.

Langriza cleaved him from the back of the neck, the blade cutting through his shoulder and neck, almost splitting half of his body in two.

The other one had already run more than ten meters before frantically rushing towards the riverbank.

Zig tapped his toes on the ground and used Swift Step to accelerate again, catching up to him in a few steps.

Hearing the noise, the man turned around in terror and wildly waved the short knife in his hand.

Zieg sidestepped the blade, grabbed his wrist with his left hand and twisted it outward, the bone cracking.

The scream had barely escaped his lips when Langlisa plunged the knife into his chest from below.

Zieg drew his sword and stepped back. The man swayed, knelt down by the river, and quickly fell silent.

The last one left was the guy who had led the way at the beginning. He was so terrified that he slumped into a pool of blood, inching backward and begging for mercy incoherently:

"No, don't kill me... Please, spare my life..."

Sieg walked up to him, raised Langrisser, and pressed the tip of the sword against the man's throat.

"Wait! Don't kill me!" Dexter scrambled backward, "I know who's been to the ruins of Fugen, I can take you there—"

The sword's edge was thrust in.

The second half of the sentence was left unsaid.

Everything fell silent.

Only the sounds of wind, water, and the gurgling of blood remained on the dock.

The thugs' bodies lay scattered on the ground, their blood gleaming a dark reddish-brown in the moonlight.

Zig shook Langrisser to remove the blood from the sword before sheathing it.

He walked to the body from which he had thrown the dagger, bent down, pulled it out, wiped it clean on the dead man's clothes, and then put it back into his waistband.

Zoltan and Dandelion stood there, completely stunned.

The dwarf's mouth was agape, his battle axe still in a defensive stance, but his eyes were filled with shock and disbelief.

Dandelion's face turned deathly pale, and his legs went weak.

Zig turned around and looked at the two people who were still frozen in place.

He didn't rush to speak, but simply let the river breeze blow across the dock, carrying the smell of blood little by little to the two of them, and into their tense breaths.