The Witcher’s face was expressionless, his amber eyes fixed on the guard captain.
“The information you left on the notice is incorrect. The tower doesn’t house a plague maiden or a daytime spirit, but a very rare remorseful spirit.”
“We don’t know if it’s a daytime spirit or a remorseful spirit. Aren’t all monsters pretty much the same? It’s been bothering our lumberjacks, and we’re paying you to get rid of it. Are you sure you killed the monster?”
The guard captain reluctantly pulled out a coin purse and tossed it to Lambert, hoping for a definitive answer from the Witcher.
“A remorseful spirit is a rare ghoul. This dangerous spirit specifically targets those who have done wrong.”
“To eliminate a remorseful spirit, the crucial point is to find what binds it to this place and sever the connection immediately! This connection could be the spirit’s former corpse or its most cherished possession. You should ask those lumberjacks what they did to it?”
The Witcher, expressionless, counted the coins and said in a cold, hard voice, “This isn’t enough. I need another two hundred and fifty crowns to compensate for my losses!”
The guard captain, his face ashen, screamed, “You freak, you’re robbing me! If you don’t produce proof of killing the monster, we won’t pay you!”
With that, he ordered his soldiers to snatch the coin purse from Lambert’s hand.
Under the guard captain’s command, the soldiers surrounded Lambert and Tike, but Tike didn’t consider these emaciated soldiers a match for Lambert.
The Witcher drew the other steel sword from his back, his icy gaze making the timid soldiers retreat once more.
A flush of anger rose to the guard captain’s face, but this flush quickly turned pale before the approaching Lambert.
“Two hundred and fifty crowns plus two horses, and I’ll bring you proof of killing the remorseful spirit.”
Lambert’s low voice was like a death knell. The guard captain, sweating profusely, immediately softened.
“I… I’ll try my best to persuade the scribe, but I can’t guarantee you’ll get that much money.”
Lambert rolled his eyes and reached out to take the necklace from the guard captain’s neck, weighing it. To his disappointment, he found these flashy ornaments were gold-plated and not worth much.
“Look at his hat,” Tike suddenly spoke up, “don’t miss the ruby that holds the feather.”
The Witcher’s gaze fell on the thumb-sized ruby, and he pulled it off with a hint of doubt.
The gem was not very transparent, and its fibrous impurities greatly reduced its value. However, it was worth much more than those gold-plated necklaces.
Lambert, grudgingly satisfied, led two skinny horses from the stable, tied his leather belt and deerskin to them, and swaggered into the town’s only inn to stay.
Winter was approaching, and there were few guests in the inn. The landlady was serving beer to a few lumberjacks at the counter.
Lambert sat down at a corner table unnoticed, eavesdropping on the drunken men’s conversation.
“How is it? Any leads?”
Seeing a subtle change in Lambert’s expression, Tike quickly asked.
Lambert shook his head, “Not sure, but their experiences make me uneasy! Remorseful spirits target sinners, but these lumberjacks have all been bothered by remorseful spirits, and most of them managed to escape alive. This, on the contrary, proves they are not the ones the remorseful spirit wants to punish.”
Tike nodded, “Perhaps we can use the remorseful spirit as a clue.”
As they spoke, the landlady brought a thick stew of vegetables and meat to the table.
“Please get me a glass of water.”
Tike lost his appetite at the sight of the now dark brown stew. This avatar didn’t need to eat; eating was merely for curiosity. Inns in small towns certainly wouldn’t have precious seasonings. Yesterday’s venison had already made Tike regret it. Tapping the bread, which could be used as a weapon, Tike pursed his lips and asked for some fruit.
Lambert, on the other hand, was not picky. He took Tike’s stew and began to devour it.
While the landlady was refilling their water, Tike casually inquired about the strange occurrences in town.
The landlady didn’t understand why this noble lady was traveling with an unpopular Witcher, but she still answered Tike’s questions without delay.
“The latest news is only about the ghost in the swamp tower. Almost all the lumberjacks have seen it, and the rumor has even reached the woodcutters on the Buina River.”
“And then there were the Squirrel’s commando squads attacking Rida Castle again. The situation for non-humans is getting worse. In retaliation, the Adakari organized a massacre, killing nearly four hundred non-humans living in the capital!”
As she spoke, the landlady couldn’t help but glance at the Witcher, who was eating heartily beside them. Perhaps, in their eyes, Witchers were also considered non-humans.
“Were there any rumors before this?”
Tike’s eyes flickered, and he subtly cast his charm human magic.
The landlady froze for a moment, then suddenly felt a strong sense of trust and closeness towards the noble lady before her. She glanced at the offending lumberjacks and whispered mysteriously, “In the forest not far from here lives a hermit. She’s a master of herbs. My neighbor’s son had a high fever and was about to leave his parents’ embrace, but the hermit’s herbs cured him.”
“Thanks to the hermit, that child has grown tall and strong. He even hunted a wild deer a few days ago!”
Listening to Tike and the landlady’s conversation, Lambert frowned. This was the last town in the Kingdom of Cintra. Beyond this lay the Blue Mountains, and Kaer Morhen Castle, the stronghold of the Wolf School Witchers, was located on the Blue Mountains. This place was quite remote, and it didn’t seem like a place sorceresses would frequent.
Since the coup on Thanedd Island, many sorceresses had left the academy, concealing their whereabouts and changing their identities. However, the timing didn’t quite match. This hermit had been here for some time, and the coup on Thanedd Island had only recently occurred. Perhaps her purpose was related to the Trial of the Grasses formula.
The landlady’s subsequent narration made the Witcher even more nervous. She lowered her voice and said, “Two months ago, some Temple Guards from Novigrad, those madmen of the Eternal Fire, heard about the hermit from somewhere and clamored to arrest her.”
“A full eleven of them, all fully armed strong men, and none of them returned!”
Lambert interjected abruptly, “When people from the Eternal Fire go missing, doesn’t anyone investigate?”
“This isn’t Novigrad, who cares about the lives of those Redanians?”
Under the influence of magic, the landlady revealed her true thoughts, “If you ask me, those mentally unstable madmen probably ran into the Squirrels. Those non-humans are becoming increasingly radical, and villages are often looted by them.”