The Witcher World: The Path to Domination Begins in Velen

Ron leaned against the doorframe of his makeshift shelter; the campfire's light had dimmed considerably.

Occasionally, the sound of a horse snorting came from the distant stable. He was wiping the remaining blood from his sword when the system panel in the upper right corner of his vision lit up: level increased, attribute points increased by 1.

He paused for a moment in front of the panel, his gaze falling on the attribute bar: Agility 8. The werewolf's claw that had grazed the chest armor still left a shallow mark on the surface.

That beast was fast enough that even when I was on guard, it still managed to get behind me.

This battle made him realize that when faced with an opponent whose strength is no less than his own, but whose speed and reflexes are astonishing, the battle would drag on into a war of attrition.

If Ciri hadn't pierced its left knee, rendering it unable to move quickly, it might not have won so easily.

Ron's gaze returned to the attribute panel; Agility 8 → 9

The sunlight slanted in from behind the ridge on the east side of Crow's Nest.

The race started at the wooden bridge at the village entrance and ended at the abandoned tower on the distant hill. The tower was half-collapsed, and the irregular edges of the gap at the top were visible from below.

Ciri rode a black horse, a young black horse, tall at the shoulders and with long legs, its mane braided into several short braids by Ciri herself.

The baron stood side by side on his warhorse at the starting line, patting the horse's neck with his right hand. His face was not as red as before, but his eyes were still bloodshot and cloudy.

"There's a crooked tree at the foot of the tower," the baron gestured with his chin into the distance. "First come, first served."

Ron led a dozen soldiers to guard the finish line, while several veterans from Crow's Nest gathered by the low wall under the tower. Old Got stood on the stone steps, shielding his eyes from the light with one hand, squinting at the distance.

An old soldier from Crow's Nest raised his arm above his head and swung it down forcefully, causing both horses to charge forward simultaneously.

Ciri's black horse started incredibly fast, leaping off the starting line as if it had been launched. Her body was low, almost touching the horse's neck, and her gray hair was whipped straight by the wind and flew backward.

Hooves pounded on the gravel road, both horses pushing themselves to their limits. The gravel was kicked and sent flying backward. The tower was getting closer and closer, and the edge of the gap at the top of the tower was already visible.

A petrified lizard suddenly emerged from behind the gap at the top of the tower. It was enormous, much larger than the petrified chicken snake that Ron had hunted, and its outstretched wingspan even exceeded the width of the gap in the tower.

Its scales shimmered with a grayish-green light, and the bony spikes along the edges of its wings were clearly visible. It quietly emerged from the top of the tower and glided down along the tower at an extremely fast speed. The soldiers crouching below the tower didn't even have time to shout.

Ciri was the second to see it. She spurred her horse, and the black horse reared up on its hind legs, emitting a sharp neigh.

The Baron was still accelerating when he saw Ciri suddenly rein in his horse. He instinctively pulled on the reins as well, but the petrified lizard had already pounced.

It swooped down from the top of the tower, startling the baron's warhorse so much that its front hooves reared up, and the baron was thrown off before he could even get his footing. Almost at the same time, the petrified lizard's giant claws came down from the sky and pinned him down.

His back slammed into the ground, one hand gripping the lizard's claw tightly and pushing it away, the other hand reaching for his waist.

The sword at his waist had already flown several feet away when he fell off his horse. The petrified lizard lowered its head, opened its beak, and venom dripped from the tip of its beak. A suppressed groan came from under the lizard's claws.

Ron moved.

He stood beside a dead old oak tree on the side of the tower, less than twenty paces from the petrified lizard. He drew the shaft of his javelin from the leather pouch on his back, gripped it in his palm, and quickly swung it to adjust his center of gravity.

The petrified lizard was lowering its head, aiming at the Baron's chest, its neck and the junction of its wing and shoulder fully exposed.

The spear shot out of his hand and hurtled towards the petrified lizard. Its thick scales shattered and scattered instantly. The impact knocked the petrified lizard off course, and its claws broke free from the Baron's chest, scraping two deep grooves in the ground.

Old Gott jumped down the stone steps, and he and Miko each grabbed one of the Baron's armpits and dragged him away from the monster.

The baron's mouth was full of dirt, and his face was cut in several places by pebbles. After being dragged away, he forcefully shook off old Gort's arm and said in a hoarse voice, "I'm fine, let me go."

Then he plopped down against the crooked tree root, resting his hands on his knees and panting heavily.

The petrified lizard suddenly turned its head, letting out a sharp hiss mixed with the pungent smell of strong acid. Its wings suddenly spread out, the bone spurs gleaming coldly, and its two thick hind legs pushed off the ground, preparing to lift itself up.

Ron had already drawn his greatsword and was holding it with one hand. The blade flashed in the light for a moment as he charged head-on at the petrified lizard. The petrified lizard was folding its wings, preparing to adjust its attack angle, but Ron didn't intend to let it complete that adjustment.

The greatsword slashed down from the upper left, the blade cutting into the wing membrane. The sound of the membrane tearing was like a sail being ripped by a hurricane. The blade continued downward with its momentum, breaking through the scales on the chest and slashing out from the other side of the neck.

The petrified lizard's angry shriek was cut off in mid-air. Its massive head crashed onto the stone slab in front of the tower, its beak still open. Its enormous body slowly tilted to one side, and the flapping of its wings abruptly stopped, leaving only a slight twitching sound.

It was quiet at the foot of the tower.

The veterans of Crow's Nest were still standing there, the dust hadn't completely settled, and the cracks where the greatsword had cleaved into the ground remained. The air was thick with the acrid smell of corrosive acid. Ron straightened up, walked around the lizard's corpse, and wiped the greatsword clean on the grass.

Ciri dismounted from her still-frightened black horse, grabbed the reins, and walked towards the tree. The baron's face was still bleeding from several cuts from the rubble, and his hands were covered in dirt and grass. He looked up at Ron as he approached.

Ron didn't look at him, sheathed his sword in the side of his horse, and turned to old Got: "Have a few men drag the body back for disposal. Give the scales and skin to Brom, and the poison glands to Aina."

The Baron, supporting himself on his knees, stood up without letting anyone help him. He turned to Ron, opened his mouth as if to say something.

For example, he might mutter "You stole my thunder" or mumble "Thank you" but ultimately say nothing.

He just stood there, panting. Ron didn't respond, but turned his head and saw it.

Beside the stable, Ciri was unsaddled the black horse. Ron walked over, and Ciri was loosening the last buckle on her belt. She turned to look at Ron, her emerald green eyes sweeping over his shoulder armor, which was still stained with lizard blood.

"Wow, that's impressive. After I finish my business," she said, "we'll find a place and have a good fight."

Ron hung his greatsword on the side of his horse and nodded. "You're welcome anytime."

She didn't say goodbye. She turned and walked along the path beside her. After walking a distance, she paused, turned back and nodded slightly, then continued walking. Her figure grew smaller and smaller until it blended into the shimmering water of the distant swamp.

The baron stood under the crooked tree for a long time before turning back. When he passed the courtyard, he patted the stone wall and pressed his palm against the rough surface for a moment.

That evening, Ron decided to take Gretka back to the manor. "This child is coming back with me," he said, "let Aina take her, teach her to read, and study medicine."

The baron glanced at him, asked no questions, and simply nodded.

Outside the courtyard, little Gretka was squatting by the well, teasing the tabby cat. She looked up and saw Ron standing at the courtyard entrance.

The kitten jumped out of her arms and disappeared. Gretka clapped her hands, stood up from the well, looked up at Ron, and her eyes curved into two arcs.

Ron turned around, and Gretka followed, reaching out to grab one of his fingers as she walked to his side. The two of them crossed the raven-nest-like courtyard and headed toward the manor.