The Witcher World: The Path to Domination Begins in Velen

Ron had spent several days in Crow's Den and had figured out its layout. Crow's Den was built on a limestone hill, overlooking the city, with a rough wooden fence and a moat below.

To enter Crow's Nest, one can only cross the wooden bridge made of logs at the village entrance. As you walk uphill from the village, the terrain becomes increasingly higher; the houses on both sides are gradually replaced by stone walls and watchtowers. At the top of the slope is the Baron's castle.

It was a medium-sized fortress built of red bricks, with three levels: upper, middle, and lower. The outermost level was the area where commoners and merchants lived, with blacksmith shops and stables crammed into this level, and the ground was covered with a layer of mud mixed with horse manure year-round.

The next floor was the barracks, where the baron's soldiers lived in barracks, and weapon racks and training grounds took up most of the open space.

The top floor was the Baron's own residence, with its heavy oak doors always closed.

On the first day, Ron made a judgment in his mind: this was a military fortress that was easy to defend and difficult to attack, but it had no strategic value other than controlling the surrounding villages.

To the east lies a swamp, to the west a dense forest, and there are no decent roads to the north or south.

The Nilfgaardian commander abandoned the attack not because he couldn't conquer it, but because the cost and reward were disproportionate.

Today, Ron was without his guards and wandered alone in the crow's nest. Not far away was a dilapidated little garden; it was surrounded by a low stone wall, the top of which was covered with wild vines, with a few small white flowers hanging on the vines.

The garden wasn't large, but the weeds around it had been cleared, the pebble path had been repaved, and several clumps of unidentified shrubs had been neatly trimmed.

A row of roses was planted against the wall. The flowering period was more than halfway over, and the edges of the petals had begun to turn brown, but they were still holding on and hadn't fallen off. In the corner, a few medicinal herbs were planted, and they smelled of sage and rosemary.

The entire crow's nest was covered in horse manure, stones, and mud. Only this small patch of land was being tended to. Ron sat down on a stone bench and rested his battle axe against his leg.

An old woman was bending over and pulling weeds by the flowerbed. Her hair was gray and tied into a tight bun at the back of her head. She was wearing an old gray-blue robe, the material of which was not very good. The cuffs were worn white, but it was very clean.

When she looked up, Ron saw a pair of green eyes. The eyes were still bright, but the corners were full of fine lines. The man was in his forties, but he looked much older.

She noticed Ron, straightened up, leaned against the low wall of the flowerbed with one hand, and wiped her hands on her apron with the other.

"You're the new sergeant major," she said, her tone not questioning.

Ron nodded: "Just passing by, let me sit for a bit."

The old woman didn't ask any further questions; she simply moved the bamboo basket aside and continued pulling weeds.

"I took care of this garden myself," she said, her head bowed, as if talking to the flowers.

"Not many people can grow roses in Velen. The soil and water here are not suitable for this delicate plant."

Ron looked at the row of roses; the edges of the petals were brownish, but the stems and leaves were a healthy dark green, without insect spots or withered lines. "You know how to grow them."

"I've been growing flowers for twenty years," the old woman said. "We used to have a much bigger garden at home, but after I moved here with my husband, we could only grow this small patch of flowers."

Her hand stopped at the base of a rose bush, her fingers gently parting the soil to examine the roots.

"He never touched my flowers before, but one time we had an argument and he smashed all the flowerpots."

Ron was silent for a moment, then said, "I'm sorry."

Just then, footsteps sounded at the garden gate. A young woman stood beside the iron gate, wearing a dark cotton dress and with brown hair.

She was very young, probably not even twenty years old, with a hint of childishness still lingering on her cheeks.

But her posture wasn't like a young girl's; her back was straight, and her chin was slightly tucked in, as if she habitually kept herself very tight.

"Mother," she said.

The old woman patted the dirt off her knees, picked up her bamboo basket, and followed the young woman toward the castle.

The young woman glanced at Ron before turning away, her gaze lingering on him briefly, not out of wariness.

It was an instinctive glance at someone who seemed completely out of place in Crow's Nest, before disappearing around the corner.

Ron remained seated. Anna Strung was the Baron's wife, and Tamara was the Baron's daughter.

In the original timeline, Anna would be cursed, and Tamara would join the witch hunters and personally rescue her mother from the swamp, but that's a story for later.

In the afternoon, Ron saw Tamara sitting alone on a stone bench as he passed through the garden.

She heard footsteps, looked up, and sat on the stone bench. She looked up and stared at Ron for a while, her gaze not shy, but direct and unceremonious.

She first looked at Ron's two-handed battle axe, the blade of which was larger than her head, and then looked up at the top of Ron's head.

Then, glancing at his chainmail overlay with half-plate armor, his gaze finally settled on the battle axe, and he couldn't help but ask, "Big guy, where did you come from?"

Calradia

She frowned. She had overheard her father's men talking about the new sergeant major and his cavalry.

But they didn't say where he came from, so she asked, "Where is that?"

"A distant continent"

"So how did you get here?"

"Storm, Shipwreck"

She stood up, took two steps closer, and her eyes lit up.

"Tell me about it, okay? I've never left Velen, the farthest I've ever been is Vizima. Tell me about Calradia, that strange, distant continent."

Ron glanced at her, did not refuse, but simply moved his battle axe and placed the blade aside.

He started with the Khuzait—the wind swept across the vast steppe, and the ground trembled when cavalry charged from the horizon; Khuzait riders could shoot arrows without using their hands to support themselves on their horses, only by using their knees to grip the horses' bellies.

Speaking of the cold coast of Nord, surrounded by snow-capped mountains, the Nords carved holes in the ice to fish, and their ships had dragon heads carved on their prows;

Tamara blinked as she heard this, as if she were mentally drawing the image of the boat.

The Aserai Desert, where Aserai merchants have walked through the yellow sand for thousands of years, the location of each oasis is passed down only to their sons, their cities are built with sand bricks, and the city walls are golden in the sunset.

The snowfields of Sturgia stretch endlessly, and the Sturgians, clad in bearskins, trek through waist-deep snow; their cavalry can march across frozen rivers.

Tamara listened intently, her chin resting on her hand, her elbows propped on her knees, her body leaning slightly forward, and she whispered, "I want to see the outside world," she said to herself.

Tamara was silent for a moment, then looked away from Ron's face and gazed at the gray sky beyond the wall.

The sky over Velen is always like this, either overcast or foggy, and you can rarely see the sun.

Ron looked at Tamara's profile. He wanted to ask why they couldn't get out, but he didn't speak. It wasn't that he didn't want to know; he had already read her thoughts from her silence.

Just then, heavy footsteps sounded from the garden gate, and the Baron strode in carrying a wine jug.

His face was flushed, his hair was messy, and he smelled sour from ale, so he had obviously been drinking for a while.

A smile was on his face, but it was forced, as if he had just been dragged out of some unpleasant silence.

A complex expression flashed across Tamara's face when she saw him, but it disappeared almost instantly.

She got up, said, "I'm going to check the kitchen," and walked towards the castle gate, not looking at the baron as she passed by.

The baron opened his mouth to call out to her retreating figure, but swallowed it back. He simply kicked an empty flowerpot at his feet, turned around, and glared at Ron.

"Hey, you brat!" He pointed a finger at Ron's chest, almost poking into the metal plate of his armor. "Don't you dare lay a finger on my daughter, you hear me!"