The Witcher: Serpent School Witcher's Otherworldly Journey

Starting from Rondale, one can cross the narrow mountain path through the Hofburg Pass to enter the territory of Baron de la Valedi.

This borderland, nestled between Temeria and Redania, guards the White Bridge and the Pontal River beneath it. For centuries, regardless of changes in power or shifts in borders, the Pontal River has remained the most undisputed line etched on maps. Even Nilfgaardian cartographers, when drawing maps of the northern territories, had to acknowledge the boundary defined by this river.

The stone gates of Hofburg gradually disappeared behind him as Kiliam slowly made his way along a dirt road deeply rutted by carts. The early autumn air was filled with the scent of freshly cut hay and the sweet, fishy smell of the distant river. The edges of the ash leaves along the roadside were already turning yellow, foreshadowing another long, cold season to come in the north.

His destination was the river port of La Valédé. If he was lucky enough, he might be able to catch a merchant ship bound for Velen there.

The Pontal River originates in the Blue Mountains of the east, flowing from east to west, eventually emptying into the sea near the free city of Norvigrím in Redania. This most important northern waterway traverses the territories of four kingdoms, serving as a vital artery for both trade and warfare since ancient times.

The sight of clear river water rushing out from the Blue Mountains glacier is, according to the old boatmen, enough to make even a lifetime of sailing on the Pontal River lose their senses for a moment.

Melting snow and underground rivers tear a chasm between the cliffs, and the emerald torrents, carrying phosphorescent mineral powder unique to the Blue Mountains, glow eerily in the moonlight, making the river look like a flowing emerald ribbon. The dwarves call this phenomenon "Mahakam's Tears" because Mahakam, their oldest homeland, lies deep within the Blue Mountains.

Kiliam had witnessed that scene firsthand. It was many years ago, when he was still completing his final years of field training with his mentor, Iva the Evil Eye. They were tracking a petrified chicken-snake wreaking havoc in the foothills of the Blue Mountains, all the way to the vicinity of the source of the Pontal River.

The prey's tracks vanished without a trace at the edge of the glacier, but the glowing river left a deeper impression on him than any monster. Iva Evil Eye stood on the cliff edge, gazing at the emerald ribbon of water, unusually silent for a long time, before finally saying only, "There aren't many things in this world worth remembering with your eyes, and this is one of them."

That was one of the few moments of reflection for Iva the Evil Eye. The old Witcher's usual sayings were "Less talk, more practice," and "If you can solve something with your silver sword, don't use your mouth." Giliam later came to understand Varna's silence through many years of solitary hunting. The longer one is a Witcher, the less one can say. Not because one hasn't experienced enough, but precisely because one has experienced so much that language can no longer bear the weight of those memories.

As this northern mother river meanders through the rye fields of the Principality of Aden, or rather, what should now be called the "former Principality of Aden," the river has become wide enough to accommodate three-masted merchant ships raising their sails adorned with various coats of arms.

In the peaceful years before the war, the most common sight on the Pontal River was the Adenian unicorn emblem and the Cordwin three-eagle flag running side by side. Merchant ships from both countries crisscrossed the river, and the riverside towns prospered to the point that even Nilfgaardian merchants from the south took notice.

But those days are gone forever.

The Second Northern War changed everything. Aden was almost completely destroyed in that catastrophe, its southern half swallowed up by the black banners of Nilfgaard, and the remaining northern territories were seized and plundered by the Kingdom of Cordwin across the Pontal River.

Kiliam's memories of the war were fragmented and chaotic. He was handling a commission from the Stoneheart Demons near the Brokilon Forest when the war broke out, and by the time the news arrived, Aden had already fallen to the majority. What followed was an overwhelming influx of refugees.

He had seen the crowds of families surging toward the border of Temuria, ragged, ashen-faced, their eyes empty of the kind of utter despair that comes from witnessing too much horror. He couldn't help them. A silver sword and a steel sword could deal with water ghosts and ghouls, but not with war and politics.

Today, on the river section near the Norwich Delta, the dangers lurking in the undercurrents are far more terrifying than the water ghosts. River pirates' skull and crossbones flags suddenly rise from the reeds, and their specially made iron hooks can cling to the ship's side like spider legs. A well-trained bandit can plunder a merchant ship fully loaded with goods in just half an incense stick's time.

Those ships that managed to escape the river pirates still had to face checkpoints set up by various lords. Every bridge they crossed was a tax checkpoint, and every bend in the river brought new "protection fees."

Over the years, Kiliam had made frequent use of this most important transport route in the north. Generally speaking, when conditions allowed, he preferred to bring his hunted prey back to the laboratory intact rather than cutting off only a portion as proof of a bounty. A complete monster carcass meant more alchemical materials, more research samples, and the occasional unexpected discovery.

His obsession with this had caused him a lot of trouble, but also some unexpected gains. Three years ago, he hunted down an unusually large drowned ghost in the old lands of Aden and insisted on bringing the entire corpse back for research.

The drowned creature was twice the size of an ordinary one, its belly swollen like a war drum, and the stench it emitted could be clearly heard for half a mile. To get this behemoth onto the ship, he had to pay three times the usual fare and was ordered by the captain to wrap the body three times in coarse linen soaked in herbs. Even so, the passengers on board remained on the windward side of the deck for the next two days of the voyage.

But the shipping cost proved worthwhile. During the dissection of the drowned creature, he discovered a well-preserved elven ring and partially digested merman scales deep within its stomach. He later sold the ring for a good price to an antique dealer in Norwich.

Such demand meant that only large cargo ships on rivers could meet the transportation requirements, since it was difficult to persuade a coachman to allow you to put a rotting, foul-smelling water ghost corpse on his wagon. In fact, Giliam had succeeded once, but at the cost of having to compensate the coachman with a new wagon, because the original wagon, after being soaked in monster fluids, never lost its stench.