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

After much thought, Li De concluded that the killer was not a member of the Squirrel Gang.

Given the nature of those fallen elves, if they truly had the ability to breach the manor, they would have already wiped out all the humans inside, leaving no trace. They wouldn't have retreated after merely killing an insignificant captain of the guard.

However, the situation is still not much better; the unknown is the biggest enemy.

Thinking of this, Li De leaped down from the treetop, tumbling back and forth between two trees a few times, then slid down the smooth trunk for a distance before landing safely.

After landing, he started searching again, using the campfire as a center, and soon found new clues.

"The footprints were hidden under the bushes, and there were no signs of broken vegetation around them. It was a druid spell."

The other party used magic to make the plants avoid the path on their own, leaving no trace of damage from violent trampling.

"We walked the whole way here, without using teleportation." Li De stood up. "Either our teleportation abilities are limited, or we dared not use them."

With that thought in mind, he once again brandished his steel sword, cutting through thorns and brambles, and tracing the trail backwards.

The bushes in the forest were dense and the footprints were shallow. It took Li De most of the day to chase them out of the woods. After noting the location, he returned the way he came to retrieve the coal briquettes and continued to track them down.

Finally, they arrived at a deserted village.

The collapsed thatched roof leaned precariously against the mud wall, the field ridges were cracked, and the millstone at the village entrance was half-buried in the soil, leaving only the hollow wail of the wind blowing through the dilapidated house.

Li De stopped at the edge of the village entrance, not daring to step in rashly. Instead, he looked down to observe the ground. The footprints became denser here, and he deliberately avoided the dirt road that was easy to leave traces on, choosing to walk on the areas covered by grass and gravel.

At the crossroads at the village entrance, a wooden plank lies fallen, with a piece of parchment, corroded by rainwater, nailed to it, where a few remaining words can be vaguely discerned.

"Epidemic" and "migration"

It's not hard to guess that this is a village abandoned due to an epidemic.

Before he could even enter the village, there were a few very faint sounds of bowstrings tightening.

The next second, four arrows shot out simultaneously from the tree canopy on both sides of the village entrance, at tricky angles, heading straight for his torso and thighs, without any probing, their intent to kill was clear from the start.

Undeterred by the sudden attack, Li De did not panic and dodge. Instead, he abruptly took a half-step to the side, dodging the arrows from the left while simultaneously drawing his steel sword and brandishing it fiercely.

It accurately intercepted two arrows; the arrowheads struck the sword, producing a crisp metallic clang, and bounced off at an angle, embedding themselves in the soil.

"That's quite a unique way to entertain guests."

Li De sneered, his gaze sweeping over the archers' hiding place.

"Don't you plan to come out and meet my elven friend?"

The treetops swayed, and four elven archers appeared one after another. They were thin and wary, their longbows always aimed at Li De, their knuckles white from the force of their blows.

Immediately afterwards, three more elven warriors carrying long swords emerged from the houses at the village entrance. They were dressed in worn-out elven clothing, and their equipment was even inferior to that of some village guards.

Although their numbers were small, they all adopted a fighting stance, seemingly convinced that the witchers before them were their enemies.

Li De did not launch an attack, but simply took a step forward slowly.

This step put the elves on edge.

The arrows came again, this time even more densely.

Li De stood firmly on the ground, without using any fancy techniques, relying purely on strength, reaction and experience, continuously swinging his steel sword, cutting off or deflecting several rounds of rapidly fired arrows.

The elven warrior seized the opportunity to pounce, thrusting his uniquely shaped, slender longsword toward his waist.

Li De dodged the attack by sidestepping, and then thrust his elbow into the opponent's ribs. The thin layer of cloth could not withstand the powerful elbow strike. The elf groaned and curled up, collapsing to the ground.

The second warrior who was cooperating with him fared even worse. His longsword was blocked by the steel sword, and before he could even get away, he was kicked away by the one following closely behind. He crashed into the last elven warrior, and the two of them rolled several meters on the ground like gourds before stopping.

The battle was overwhelming from the very beginning.

It wasn't because the elves were too weak, but because the difference in combat experience and physical abilities between the two sides was too great.

Just as he was about to subdue the archers, his vision blurred for a moment.

The elves, who were about to give up, suddenly launched a new offensive. Li De's eyes quickly scanned the arrows, and he was about to repeat his previous blocking action when his body suddenly tensed up, as if his instincts were alerting him.

Immediately, with lightning speed, he sheathed his sword and, without any regard for his image, rolled over into the open space beside him.

Swoosh...

The sharp sound of an arrow whizzing past his ear made him frown slightly.

Judging from the sound of the wind, the trajectories of these arrows were slightly different from those captured by the naked eye.

Li De gripped the badge in his left hand, and felt a vibration from it in his palm. He was startled and thought to himself.

"What a brilliant illusion! It can not only affect vision, but also hide the vibration of the badge."

This level of skill far surpasses that of the sorcerer who attempted to control monsters to restore his kingdom.

Before the attack was over, several thick, black thorns sprang up from the ground at Li De's feet, their barbed branches lashing out fiercely, and the archers drew their bows and nocked arrows once more.

"Quinn".

A calm voice rang out, a solid magical shield firmly blocked the arrows, and two sword lights flashed, cutting the sturdy thorns as thick as calves into several pieces.

After breaking through one round of attacks, he did not rush to attack, but instead suddenly looked towards the direction of the village.

A violent spatial fluctuation emanated from there, far exceeding the intensity of a normal teleportation portal.

Just as he hesitated, several elven archers' expressions changed drastically. They jumped down from the tree, turned around, and ran away. Even the elven warrior who had fallen to the ground struggled to pick up his longsword and staggered towards the village.

At the same time, it started snowing.

Li De reached out and caught a snowflake. The biting cold felt like an ice needle, piercing through the gaps in his armor and stabbing deep into his body.

It wasn't the cold that seeped in from the outside during the dead of winter, but rather a chill that burst forth from the depths of every limb and every cell, freezing one's blood almost to the point of stagnation.

"What happened?"

These elves' actions were by no means a retreat; rather, they seemed to be a desperate return to their aid. Even the druid who had just been wielding the Blackthorns abandoned his attack on him.

Two seconds later, faint screams could be heard coming from the direction of the deserted village.

Driven by curiosity, Li De strode into the deserted village.

Outside the village, the sun was still shining brightly, but as soon as you stepped into the village, you were completely enveloped by a thick shadow, and the ground beneath your feet was instantly covered with a thin layer of white frost.

The screams grew more frequent, interspersed with violent magical fluctuations and the clanging of metal against metal.

Li De quickened his pace, and after passing through two dilapidated houses, a scene of horrific battlefield came into view.

The two sides in the battle were a blue-green skeleton that floated in the air like a ghost, its body covered with semi-transparent armor in the shape of bones, with cold soul fire flickering in its empty eye sockets, and it moved as swiftly as a ghost.

On the other side were poorly equipped elven warriors, their clothes tattered and their weapons worn, desperately blocking the way. In a corner of the village, elven old, weak, women and children huddled together, trembling with fear. The children's cries were choked back by terror, leaving only silent sobs.

The ghosts are fearless and their attacks, whether swords or arrows, pass right through their bodies and do not cause any real damage. On the contrary, every attack they launch hits the target, leaving the elves covered in blood.

If it weren't for a druid in a tattered robe desperately casting spells, the entire village of elves would have been slaughtered long ago.

But he couldn't go any further. Maintaining the protective barrier and preventing the elderly, women, and children from freezing to death with the frost already took up most of his energy. The remaining energy was barely enough to control a few thorns, and he simply couldn't kill these ghosts.

The moment Li De saw the ghost, he was reminded of a legend—The Wild Hunt.

These ghosts are the Wild Hunt's projection method; even if they die, it will not affect their original body in another world.