After “borrowing” two horses from the four bandits, Zelin and the girl’s journey became significantly easier.

  After all, traveling on horseback was far preferable to walking on foot.

  As for those four “generous” bandits, Zelin had kindly helped them “depart” from this dangerous world—free of charge.

  On Zelin’s hunting list, it wasn't just monsters; it also included certain humans whose hearts and actions were no different from those of wild beasts.

  With the horses at their disposal, Zelin didn't linger in the nearby village.

  Instead, he urged the horses forward at full speed. His goal was to reach the town near the Pontar as quickly as possible, hoping to find a ferry to cross the river the next day.

  These two horses, however, paled in comparison to the Kaedwen horse Zelin once owned.

  Time and again, he worried that the horse he was riding might collapse from exhaustion at any moment.

  Fortunately, as night fell and they spotted the town's lights in the distance, along with Redania's patrol soldiers in their distinctive red uniforms on the road, the horses still had some strength left.

  “I really miss those Kaedwen horses more and more,” Zelin murmured, stroking the horse's mane.

  He could feel the animal trembling all over from fatigue. With a sigh, he led the reins and walked slowly towards the town.

  The girl followed suit, leading her horse.

  In this unfamiliar land, she was completely lost without Zelin. Separated from him, she might not even find her way back to the town, let alone reach the Mahakam Mountains.

  Although she knew she'd first appeared in those mountains, it took her four days to find her way out.

  After that, she'd wandered aimlessly for days, with no recollection of the routes.

  “The horse you had before must have been amazing,” the girl replied, growing increasingly curious about Zelin's identity.

  Zelin had told her he was a Witcher, but in her world, there were Casters and druids. Her mentor, Merlin, was a Caster, yet the term “Witcher” was foreign to her.

  Maybe he was a knight - errant? “A knight really does need a good horse,” she thought to herself.

  “It was truly something special,” Zelin said, tilting his head back with a nostalgic look.

  That horse had been a gift from a wealthy Kaedwen merchant.

  A year ago, Zelin had saved the merchant from a band of mountain robbers, and the horse was his token of gratitude.

  The Kingdom of Kaedwen, situated in the north, was known for its harsh climate and the magic academy in Ban Ard.

  The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Vast primeval forests covered much of the land, which had once been the elves' habitat. Horses bred in such a tough environment boasted greater endurance and adaptability than ordinary breeds.

  With that Kaedwen horse, Zelin never worried about being thrown off during a chase or attacked by monsters, nor did he fear the horse running away in the middle of a battle.

  Treading along the muddy road, Zelin and the girl joined the night - returning crowd and entered the small town.

  The town wasn't large, but thanks to the Pontar's convenient river transport, trade ships traveling from Novigrad to the inland passed through here.

  At the town's entrance, Zelin could already see the masts of large trade ships in the distant port. At the roadside stalls, he even spotted specialties from the Skellige Islands.

  As the only island nation among the northern kingdoms, while these specialties didn't sell well along the coast, merchants could double or even triple their prices when transporting them to inland areas like Aedirn and Kaedwen.

  Shortly after entering the town, Zelin's sharp sense of smell detected a faint fishy odor in the air.

  Most of the locals made their living by fishing, and the streets were filled with merchants buying fresh fish from fishermen at low prices, planning to sell them at a premium in the inland.

  As the saying went, “rarity makes a thing precious,” and fish was much more expensive in Ban Ard, the capital of Kaedwen, than in Novigrad.

  Soon, Zelin found the town's sole inn, nestled amidst the town's web - like streets. The signboard clearly displayed its name: The Tuna—a name fitting for a fishing town.

  Zelin handed the panting horses to the stable boy, slipping two crowns into his palm and instructing him to feed the horses the best hay available.

  If he wanted to reach the Mahakam Mountains quickly after crossing the Pontar the next day, the horses needed a good rest.

  Once across the river, it would take less than two days to reach the mountain foothills.

  Pushing open the inn's door, Zelin was greeted by familiar chaos.

  The air reeked of a potent mix of alcohol, sweat, and fish. Many men, barefoot and rowdy, were drinking and shouting.

  Judging by their attire, they were likely fishermen or passing sailors, finally able to unwind after docking and splurging on cheap beer.

  Inns often doubled as taverns, and Zelin, a seasoned traveler, was used to this scene. But Altria, following behind, seemed repulsed by the environment, her brows furrowing deeply.

  “Are you alright?” Zelin noticed her discomfort and turned to ask softly.

  “We can rent a room and have the waiter bring our food up. It'll be quieter there.”

  “I'm fine,” Altria said, relaxing her frown slightly.

  Her eyes, however, were fixed disapprovingly on the scantily - clad waitresses. “Compared to the battlefield against the Anglo - Saxons, this place is nothing.”

  “Don't force it,” Zelin shook his head.

  His beast - like eyes missed nothing, and he could tell she was out of place here. She was a true knight, just as nobles didn't typically dwell in the slums.

  This rowdy, indulgent environment simply wasn't suitable for her. “Come on. Let's hope there are still rooms available.”

  At the counter, the plump innkeeper, Armon, greeted them warmly—no doubt because of the eighty crowns Zelin slapped down.

  Zelin was sure that for the right price, Armon would even let a doppler and a Witch Hunter from the Eternal Fire Church share a roof.

  “We need two rooms, a roasted chicken, some freshly baked bread, and two bottles of fruit wine,” Zelin said, glancing at the girl.

  At the mention of roasted chicken, a spark of longing flashed in her emerald - green eyes. With a sigh, Zelin added, “Make that two roasted chickens. Send the food to our rooms and prepare a basin of hot water for each of us to bathe.”

  Armon's face fell as he looked at Zelin's outstretched two fingers.

  He eyed the gold coins on the counter reluctantly.

  “Sorry, sir. We only have one room left. Maybe you could...”

  Armon glanced tentatively between Zelin and the girl.

  “It's the largest room in town. It can easily fit two people...”

  A strange smile played on his lips.

  “Sigh. I guess we should look elsewhere,” Zelin sighed. He didn't have high hopes of finding another place that would welcome a Witcher.

  “No need. We can share the room,” the girl said calmly.

  Zelin stared at her in surprise, and she met his gaze evenly, her dark green eyes betraying no emotion.

  “I often shared tents with other knights in the camp. What's the problem?”

  “...I guess there isn't one.”