The Witcher World: The Path to Domination Begins in Velen

Ron reached out and pushed the visor up, then knelt down on one knee. He was several times the height of the little girl, and it took him a while to make eye contact with her.

"Don't be afraid, little one. What's your name?"

The little girl removed her hand from her mouth; her lips were still trembling, but her eyes were no longer locked with fear as before.

She looked at Ron, at his plate armor, and sniffed.

"I am Gretka," she said softly, each word trembling.

"Gretka, can you tell me what happened?"

"There are very, very big wolves. My friend told me to hide here while she went to deal with the wolf king."

What do your friends look like?

"The older sister with gray hair, holding a sword," Gretka said, raising her hand above her head to make a sword shape. "The big bad wolf is going to bite her."

Ron stood up and turned to the soldiers: "Stay here and keep watch. Too many people in the cave will only be an obstacle."

He took the greatsword from the side of the horse, weighed it in one hand. The cave was dark, with only a few rays of light leaking through the crack in the ceiling.

A roar came from deep within, not the howl of a wolf, but a deeper, more resonant roar.

This was followed by the clanging of metal striking a hard object and a short, muffled groan, then the dull thud of a body hitting a stone wall.

Ron stopped slowing his pace, his iron boots pounding on the gravel, the heavy sound of his footsteps filling the entire tunnel. He rounded the last bend and rushed into the deepest part.

A young woman with gray hair was being struck by the werewolf's massive arm, and was thrown off the ground, crashing into the opposite stone wall.

Her sword flew out of her hand, slid several meters across the ground, and came to rest in a corner of the cave. She slid down the stone wall, clutching her injured arm, and looked up.

The werewolf was enormous, almost twice the size of an adult male, and covered in thick, dark gray mane that looked like tufts of upright steel needles.

Its canines were arranged in an alternating pattern, and its eyes glowed dark red in the darkness as it stared at the girl before leaping up and pouncing on her.

Ron slammed his back foot into the ground, the javelin whistling as it passed by, the tip striking the werewolf's right shoulder and penetrating deep into his shoulder blade. The massive impact sent the werewolf staggering back several steps from in front of the girl.

It roared as it rose from the ground, turned its head, and saw a giant in full plate armor. A look of astonishment flashed in its dark red vertical pupils.

The plate-armored warrior opposite him almost filled the cave passageway with his shoulders. His heavy visor covered his eyes, leaving only two dark shadows visible. He carried a huge greatsword, the blade of which gleamed coldly in the dim light of the cave.

The werewolves instinctively sensed the threat and instinctively pushed off the ground with their hind legs, their bodies roaring as they rammed into the intruders. They were almost the same height and almost the same size.

But Ron was faster. He didn't give the werewolf any room to accelerate. He instantly bent down and sprinted, sending rocks flying everywhere. His shoulder armor instantly filled the werewolf's entire field of vision, and they collided with a loud crash.

A tremendous thud traveled from his shoulders into his chest and then to the rocky ground. The werewolf's body was thrown back even faster than when he lunged forward, his back slamming against the rock wall with a muffled thud, scattering rubble everywhere.

The greatsword followed with a swift slash, but by the time the blade struck the stone wall, the werewolf had already rolled away. The blade fell, and fragments of stone clattered against the breastplate.

The werewolf, on all fours, charged around to the side and pounced, its claws tearing three arcs of light across the iron surface of its breastplate with a sharp scraping sound and sparks flying.

The impact caused Ron to slide half a body length, leaving two white marks on the rocky ground, but his sword stance remained steady.

Ron swung his sword backhand, and the werewolf pushed off the ground and staggered back. The blade grazed its belly and mane, missing its target. It grinned at Ron, revealing a mocking smile.

Ciri climbed up from the edge of the stone wall, her sword lying a few steps away. She used her left hand to support herself as she crawled over, but as she gripped the hilt of the sword again, she didn't immediately rush forward.

The werewolf was leisurely circling Ron, the wound on his shoulder blade torn by the spear slowly closing up; its powerful self-healing ability had completed most of the repair in just a few rounds of attack and defense.

When it retreated to the open space in the center of the cave, its center of gravity shifted to the left for a moment, and the moment its left hind leg pushed off the ground, its left knee was completely exposed to Ciri's line of sight.

Her feet touched the ground, her body lowered, each step landing at an angle out of the werewolf's sight. As the sword tip pierced the werewolf's left knee tendon, the werewolf was still watching Ron's movements.

The blade pierced through the kneecap and into the joint. The werewolf's left leg suddenly lost its strength, his knee bent forward, and his upper body slumped down, letting out a roar filled with pain and rage.

The enormous wolf claws swung backward, but Ciri had already rolled away to dodge. She pressed herself against the edge of the stone wall, the tip of her sword on the ground, her chest heaving violently, but her gaze never left her, she was waiting for the next opportunity.

With its hind legs pierced, the werewolf was unable to move quickly. Ron seized this brief opening and slashed down with his greatsword from the upper left.

The blade, leaving a blur, sliced ​​into the werewolf's neck, cutting into its cervical spine. The massive wolf head, along with half its neck, crashed to the ground, rolling twice.

It crashed into a stone pillar and came to a stop. Blood spurted from its neck cavity, spraying onto the rock wall, and slowly turned into a trickle, flowing into the cracks in the rocks.

The echoes in the cave slowly faded, and Ciri stood up, leaning on her sword. She glanced down at her right arm, pressed her hand to the wound, and looked up again.

Ron planted his greatsword in the ground and pushed aside his visor: "Is anyone else alive?"

"Who are you?" Her voice was hoarse, but her tone was even as she steadied her breathing and quickly reassessed the stranger in front of her.

"The sergeant major of Lord Velen is searching for his missing men."

"Ciri," she said.

Ron nodded, pushed aside his visor, turned around and gestured behind him, and the soldiers dispersed into the cave, the torchlight sweeping through every crevice.

Miko's voice came from the other side of the cave: "Found it."

Hans was huddled in a depression behind a boulder. His helmet was gone, and his face was covered in blood, making it impossible to see his expression. When Hans saw Ron, his lips moved as if he wanted to say something but then swallowed it back.

"Can you still walk?"

Hans nodded vigorously.

Ron had his soldiers help the wounded to their feet. As he turned around, Ciri was still watching him, while Gretka ran in from the direction of the cave entrance.

The little girl bypassed the werewolf corpse and the soldiers, ran to Hiri, and grabbed her sleeve with both hands.

Ciri lowered her head and said a few words to her in a very low voice, so no one could hear what she said. Then the little girl nodded and held onto her sleeve tightly.

Ron pulled the greatsword from the ground.

"You're injured. Come back to Crow's Den with us. Someone there can treat you," he said, then told a soldier to help Hilary out.

The afternoon sun shone into the woods as Ciri walked beside Gretka, her left hand still clutching her injured right arm.

As she walked, the movement aggravated her wound, and blood seeped from between her fingers, dripping onto the withered leaves. She didn't make a sound, but the sweat on her forehead grew thicker and thicker.

Ron walked at the front of the group, silent. The soldiers' corpses still lay in the woods. Hans walked behind, turning his head away as he passed the corpses, biting his lip tightly.

The group followed the path they had taken through the dense forest, and in the distance, the outline of a crow's nest emerged from behind the hills.