"Clip-clop!"
The mare walked ahead, tethered to a rope.
But Arwen did not let her do much of the work. He gripped the cart shafts with both hands, his steps heavy.
She was a riding horse, a warhorse, nothing like an ordinary draft horse. Injuring her by making her haul this cartload of timber would hardly be worth it.
The timber merchant's voice came from behind him, complaining as he pushed the cart.
"This fucking world. You can't make a living anymore."
"I'm telling you, the marquises of the four marches ordered the wilderness cleared. That should've been something to cheer about, but those stingy nobles only pay a few coins for every inch of land cleared. Barely enough for a night in a brothel."
"There are more and more monsters in the woods. I even heard a village of cobblers is haunted at night."
"And those damned elves keep shooting at us from hiding every day. God ought to strike the whole lot of them with plague."
Arwen listened closely. When it came to settling the wilderness, humanity's racial talent for breeding was simply far too overpowered.
For monsters like kobolds, which settled in mines and forests, their living space was being squeezed so severely that they would probably go extinct before long.
Thinking back briefly, he did not recall even hearing of kobolds in The Witcher games.
"Say, honorable witcher, I still don't know what to call you."
"Ar..." Arwen hesitated, catching sight of the raven resting on his shoulder out of the corner of his eye. "Raven. You can call me Raven."
"Oh." The timber merchant took it in stride. "Raven, eh? Those knights and nobles all have titles. Who says witchers can't have them too?"
"Mr. Raven, do you know Gerald? Three months ago, I delivered a shipment to Mount Podkurek. There was a witcher there too, with white hair and a face like an evil spirit."
"Gerald? White hair?"
Arwen's lips twisted, surprised inwardly.
He means the white-haired Geralt, surely.
Three months ago? Geralt was still in Kaedwen? Wasn't he heading to the coast? Why was he still in Kaedwen?
Though those thoughts ran through his mind, he said, "Don't really know him."
"All right. I thought you might know each other."
The two men and the horse passed a tree with dense foliage. The country path curved, and the view suddenly opened up.
The primeval forest behind them gave way to rows of felled stumps, and the air was full of the damp smell of wood shavings.
"Look, Mr. Raven. White River Town is just ahead."
The timber merchant pointed forward.
Arwen raised his head. At the end of the country path stood a town enclosed by a palisade of enormous logs.
Rows of houses stood tightly packed together, their earth-gray bricks and tiles forming an unbroken expanse.
At the center of town stood a two-story castle built from stone.
[Dual Souls] went to work. By a rough visual estimate, White River Town had over five hundred houses besides the castle, and at least several thousand inhabitants.
For a barony, it certainly stood out.
The two quickened their pace. The bright sun climbed directly overhead, baking them until fine beads of sweat appeared on their foreheads.
White River Town stood beside a tributary of the White Stone River, which also served as the town's natural moat.
Sunlight glittered on the winding river, and cattails covered both banks.
To enter the town, they had to cross the drawbridge before the gate.
Yet despite it being noon, White River Town's gate was shut, and no one could be seen coming or going. That was highly unusual.
Five soldiers carrying halberds stood on either side of the drawbridge, wearing rough leather armor. At a glance, it was most likely cowhide.
He also noticed something odd about their expressions. It was not midday drowsiness, but deep exhaustion.
And the gate was shut in broad daylight. Something was very wrong. Arwen quietly put himself on alert.
Noticing the two men, the soldiers immediately advanced with their halberds leveled and barked in low voices.
"Travelers, halt!"
Arwen gestured with his eyes toward the timber merchant beside him. The man smiled and walked forward.
"Ah, good sirs, it's me, Theodore Reed. I know your captain very well. He's my brother-in-law."
"Theodore Reed?"
A gruff voice came from behind the soldiers.
Metal boots creaked against the drawbridge as a tall, burly man stepped out.
He wore armor and had short brown hair. He looked to be in his thirties, with sharply defined features. A coat of arms was engraved on his breastplate, its upper half depicting a black unicorn and its lower half resembling flowing river water.
Arwen's gaze sharpened slightly. He had read about heraldry in Kaer Morhen's library.
The unicorn represented Kaedwen. The river beneath it probably belonged to this Baron of White River.
"Well, damn, Martin. A few months apart, and now you're wearing that?"
"Ha! We fought the elves two months ago. I cut down two of them, and the baron promoted me to captain."
"Oh, that's wonderful news. My sister and nephews must be delighted."
"Of course. It's good to see you."
"You too."
The two embraced. Captain Martin turned and called out to the soldiers.
"What are you still holding those halberds up for? Are you blind? Lower them!"
The soldiers lowered their halberds at his words, privately breathing sighs of relief.
The timber merchant noticed and asked quietly, "What happened in White River Town? Have the elves reached this far? Things weren't this tense last time I came."
Captain Martin rested his right hand on the sword hilt at his waist. "Hah, if only it were elves. It's a monster. A monster that kills without blinking at night!"
The timber merchant's eyes widened, and he instinctively glanced behind him.
"Let's go inside first. We can talk at leisure. Hm..."
Halfway through speaking, Martin followed the timber merchant's gaze, and his pupils contracted.
Beside the cart stood a tall man, his face hidden beneath his hood. Through his open cloak, a silver-studded leather jacket showed.
A raven perched on his shoulder. Most striking was the greatsword slung diagonally across his back. It had to weigh a considerable amount, and anyone capable of wielding it must have exceptional strength.
Martin's expression grew serious. "Theodore, I take it this isn't a hand you hired."
The timber merchant was about to explain when Arwen strode forward.
"You just said there was a monster here?"
"That's right."
The black-robed man raised his head, revealing the face beneath his hood, his gray, slit-pupiled eyes showing interest.
Martin instinctively drew a breath, a chill running down his spine.
The halberdiers behind him, however, screamed at the sight, swinging their arms to point their halberd blades at Arwen.
"A... a monster!"
"The monster's here! Protect the captain!"
"Kill him! Kill him!"
The timber merchant jumped in fright, spreading his hands and shouting, "A misunderstanding! It's a misunderstanding!"
"Martin, hurry and calm them down."
Martin spotted the wolf's-head medallion hanging on Arwen's chest. He immediately roared at the soldiers behind him, reaching out to push down the nearest halberd shaft.
"What are you all doing? Put those weapons away!"
"Captain, look at his face! It's as white as birch bark, and his pupils are slits! He's a vampire! He's the one who killed so many of our men at night!"
The soldier argued back.
At those words, the corner of Arwen's mouth twitched.
A fucking vampire? Though, come to think of it, with a pair of red, slit-pupiled eyes, I really would look the part.
"Enough, you ignorant country bumpkins! He's a witcher!"
"Keep making a fuss like this, and I'll shove those halberds up your arses!"
"A... a witcher?!"
The soldiers exchanged glances and studied Arwen's face, the panic in their eyes not diminishing in the slightest.
After calming the soldiers, Martin turned and hurried toward Arwen.
He rubbed his palms together, his voice excited.
"Hey, friend, don't hold it against these country peasants. Welcome to White River Town. We're sorely in need of a reliable witcher."