A fantastical journey across the heavens, beginning with the Witcher.

"No!"

In the distance, the old woman, who had just woken up from her coma, saw the damned witcher chop off her sister's head with a single sword strike as she got up, and immediately let out a slightly whistled wail.

"Don't rush, it'll be your turn soon."

Li De, who had personally orchestrated this "human tragedy," showed no remorse. Holding his blood-stained sword, a smile played on his lips: "Let me see, there's still one hiding underwater... Ah, here it is!"

Perhaps feeling she still had a chance to fight back, after being half-burned by Igni and barely managing to turn into blood despite the interference of the Arden sign, the Weaver did not immediately flee. Instead, she circled around the Witcher, looking for an opportunity to strike.

It didn't realize something was wrong until it saw its sisters' heads being chopped off.

Unfortunately, by then it was too late to escape!

The runic markings of the Arden sign were tightly wrapped around it, and even though they were covered by blood of the same color, they were still very conspicuous. Li De couldn't pretend not to see them.

And so, another "Moon Dust" exploded.

The silvery light powder from the explosion drifted in the air, as beautiful as stardust under the moon.

In contrast, the hideous monster, whose true form had been blasted out, was still writhing in vain, trying to escape back into the blood-stained swamp. However, the silver dust was mixed with a small amount of magic-blocking gold powder, making it difficult to cast spells.

This monster should be grateful for the rarity of the anti-magic gold. The witcher only mixed a little into the bomb; if it had been a pure anti-magic gold bomb, it would have been blown to bits long ago.

As the monster appeared, Li De pushed off with his feet, and amidst the splashing mud, he was already in front of the monster. His silver sword was pointed diagonally behind him, and his posture was as steady as a wolf gathering its strength. This was the fast sword starting stance he had learned from Vesemir, which could unleash a fatal attack in an instant.

As the Weaver Girl propped herself up, her withered claws still gripping the intact spindle, she shrieked as she tried to slash at the Witcher's ankle.

With a sharp "whoosh," the silver sword slashed upwards, the movement so fast that only a flash of light could be seen.

Before the weaver could even see the trajectory of the longsword, her right arm, which was holding the spindle, was severed at the elbow. Rusty red blood spurted out and splashed into the swamp. The severed arm remained in the position of holding the spindle and sank into the water with a "plop".

Before it could let out a shrill scream, Li De flipped his wrist, and the silver sword slashed down again. Orange-red sword energy swirled around the tip of the sword, precisely striking the monster's neck.

The head, shriveled from the flames, rolled off with a thud, tumbling several times before sinking into the swamp, leaving only a section of its neck twitching outside, black blood gushing out and quickly assimilated by the bloody swamp.

"No--!"

The old woman in the distance let out another whistling wail.

It looked at the two sisters' corpses, and then caught a glimpse of the witcher's golden cat eyes, gleaming with murderous intent, as he turned to look at it. It was immediately terrified, its hunched body jerking violently, transforming into a flock of black crows, flapping its wings as if trying to replicate the Boiler's escape route.

Li De raised an eyebrow slightly. The Ald sign's direct attack on the monster's face, which sent it flying more than ten meters away, actually became its lifesaver.

The distance is too great for the flames of the Igni Sign to reach, and even if the Moon Dust Bomb is thrown, it may not accurately hit the flock of crows.

So he reached behind his back to the crossbow quiver, hooked his fingertips, and grasped a finely crafted hand crossbow in his hand.

The flock of black crows had already flown into the air and were desperately fleeing into the depths of the swamp.

Li De swiftly and smoothly completed the actions of nocking the arrow, raising the crossbow, aiming, and firing. The crossbow bolt shot through the air with a sharp whistle, striking the flock of crows with a steady thud.

But... nothing happened, and the flock of crows just flew away.

It may seem like they've accomplished nothing, but in reality, it's exactly what they wanted.

He certainly didn't expect to interrupt the Whispering Woman's spell with a crossbow bolt. The key was the special container on the arrowhead, which contained a substance extracted from the shapeshifting spider silk sac, mixed with a special dye. Once fired, it would slowly release orange-yellow silk threads, leaving a mark along the way.

……

After watching the crows fly away, Li De came to his senses and, after confirming that he was the only living creature still breathing on the battlefield, he finally relaxed.

Next comes dealing with the battlefield, but before that, there's one more important thing to do—maintaining the weapons.

Monster blood is mostly corrosive, and unless it's a matter of life and death, Witchers will prioritize keeping their weapons clean.

He untied a roll of silk from his waist, strode to a nearby body of water that was not yet polluted by blood, squatted down, and used the silk to wipe the bloodstains and mud off the silver sword with clean water.

He found this old buddy on the skeleton of a fellow Witcher, and it had endured countless years of wind and rain, yet it remained sharp when drawn.

Subsequently, he spent a large sum of money to find an alchemist who had traveled across the ocean to add a special enchantment—Fragment—to the silver sword.

When unleashing a charged strike, the orange-red sword energy extending from the sword tip is the effect of "Break".

This was his main weapon in his demon-hunting career, so he naturally took extra care in maintaining it. He wiped every inch of the blade with a silk cloth until the blade was so bright that it could clearly reflect his face before he stopped.

"Buddy, you've had a tough time again this time."

Weapons are a second life; this was probably the only serious principle that the old man from the Xiong School ever taught him.

After sheathing his weapons, Li De drew his dagger and began to deal with the battlefield.

Reality is not a game; there is no one-click pickup function. Every piece of loot must be cut off by hand and saved separately according to its type.

He trudged through the mud to the piles of monster corpses, expressionless, and used his dagger to pry open the eye sockets of each demon, carefully removing the eyeballs and placing them in a glass bottle.

The Eye of the Demon is a type of alchemical material. It is not particularly precious, but it is small in size and lightweight. Dozens of them can be contained in a single glass bottle, making it a cost-effective material.

Next up is the giant ghoul.

Don't be fooled by Li De's effortless, powerful strike that killed two giant ghouls, making the monster seem weak.

In fact, they are much stronger than ordinary ghouls, with well-developed muscles, tough skin, sharp claws and teeth, and spikes on their backs and heads. They are considered the pinnacle of ordinary monsters, and the materials they produce are naturally extraordinary.

Li De used a dagger to cut open the corpse's abdomen, and an even stronger stench of decay wafted out.

Ignoring the viscous internal organs in his abdominal cavity, he first precisely picked out the red-glowing "mutation inducer" and carefully wrapped it in dry animal hide; then he carefully cut off the gallbladder and extracted the bile using a specially made crystal container.

The former is a precious material that can only be produced by a few monsters. It can replace certain special materials in decoction and has always been a favorite of demon hunters.

The latter can be used to extract precious solvents, which can be used to craft equipment, alchemy, and medicine. Sorcerers buy them at high prices year after year, and even if they can't sell them, they can use them themselves.

As for the other ordinary monster materials, Li De only glanced at them and then ignored them.

Not only does it take up space, but it's also worthless. He doesn't have any four-dimensional pocket, so he has to carry all his loot on his back. Carrying a sack of monster hides out of the swamp is not only troublesome and laborious, but in the end, it's only enough to exchange for a few bottles of strong liquor, which is really not worth it.

Of course, there was still the most important spoils to collect—the corpses of the two old witches.

Although I hate to admit it, these two monsters are also a type of sorcerer. Before they turned into these grotesque forms, even if they weren't human, they at least had a human form.

Logically speaking, such creatures, which are somewhere between humans and monsters, should not produce valuable materials, but once they possess the ability to cast spells, it's a different story.

Creatures capable of casting spells are themselves the most precious alchemical materials, including human sorcerers.

According to the records stored in Kaer Morhen, in the Middle Ages, sorcerers did not have an academy system for training; instead, they were taught by a teacher-apprentice system, with instruction passed down through generations.

They fought each other countless times, all for the sake of their fellow travelers' flesh and organs.

Currently, while the Warlock Brotherhood is officially in place to prohibit the sale of warlock organs, the practice persists despite repeated crackdowns.

Li De once took on such a job, cleaning up the Warlock Brotherhood by dealing with a male warlock who had murdered a fellow member.

Among the spoils of that battle were two refined magic-blocking gold ingots, which were extremely valuable. The magic-blocking gold powder currently being used was ground from those two ingots.

It was during that time that he learned the tricks of disposing of the corpses of spellcastable creatures from the male sorcerer's notes; otherwise, he might have missed out on a lot of treasures today.

First, the skull.

Collecting heads is a habit of witchers. Even if they don't sell them to sorcerers, they can sell them to some curious noble collectors. The head of a witch in the forest is a valuable topic of conversation and is perfect for adding to one's prestige.

Secondly, nails, heart, and hair.

These parts possess the most potent magic, much like in fairy tales where wizards use fingernails and organs to concoct poisons—not just a figment of imagination, but a product of reality.

Finally, there are their weapons.

The cook's rice paddle and frying pan withstood the silver sword's blows without even a scratch, so they must be treasures worth taking away; the weaver's spindle, even though the weaver herself was half burned to death by Igni's flames, was completely unharmed, so it must also be no ordinary object.

With everything packed up, Li De patted his backpack. Next, he would find Granny Nan to finally settle this commission.

He stood up, took a deep breath, and slowly activated his demon-hunting senses.

The mundane world instantly transformed in his eyes, all the scenery dimmed, except for a few colors that stood out vividly: orange remnants of monster corpses, red traces of creature movement, unfolding clearly before his eyes like veins.

Most of it was left behind by ordinary monsters in the swamp, and it was all in a mess.

Only one mark stood out: strands of filamentous material hanging from the tree canopy, as thin as hair, yet radiating a bright light, like a lighthouse in the darkness, extending all the way into the depths of the swamp in the direction the flock of black crows had fled.

"I've found you."

Li De's lips curled slightly as he gripped the hilt of his sword and followed the orange-yellow mark.

Witchers have no shortage of patience; waiting for days and nights in front of a trap is commonplace, and traversing mountains and valleys to hunt monsters is a regular occurrence.

Human potential is limitless. When he lived on Earth, he heard about a hunting activity called "death chase" that African hunters would carry out. It was very simple and brutal. They would follow their prey and chase them tirelessly until they exhausted the prey to death.

Moreover, he underwent a witcher mutation, giving him physical abilities far exceeding those of humans.

As long as this murmuring old woman doesn't use teleportation magic, he can chase her until she runs out of magic power and falls from the sky!