The outpost on the Sintra border stood like a silent fortress built of stone and bone, towering at the end of the mountain pass.
Four arrow towers were firmly rooted on the grey rock, their walls mottled like cracked armor, and the blue-and-gold lion banner unfurled in the morning breeze, like a roaring lion not yet fully awake.
Sunlight slanted across the heavy stone walls, reflecting a silent, alert, and deadly aura.
The caravan stopped before the outpost.
We had already crossed the Amell Mountains and were now only two days' journey from Otarga.
However, the outpost's gate was tightly shut, a heavy wooden barrier blocking the path, allowing no passage.
Several convoys were piled by the roadside, with at least thirty people stranded there.
Most looked anxious; some leaned against their wagons in a daze, others paced back and forth, cursing, and bonfires baked a burnt smell into the faint mist.
"What's going on?" Glick frowned.
I rode forward, approaching the outpost entrance.
By the gate, a guard in Sintra light armor was arguing with an angry cart driver, his tone agitated and weary.
"...I'll say it again, unless an officer gives the order, all caravans are to remain in place—"
"We are from the Vare Trading Company," I interrupted him, my voice steady and firm, "Our travel permits are complete; there should be no obstruction."
The soldier was startled, his gaze sweeping over my cloak and landing on the two swords on my back, his expression immediately tightening.
"Are you a Witcher?" His voice dropped a few tones.
"Griffin School, Jerome Morlu." I handed him the permit. "Reason for the road closure?"
He swallowed, glanced around, and whispered, "Three days ago, a caravan was attacked about ten li outside—not by bandits, but by a Gryphon.
An adult male, it descended from the sky, tore four people apart, and overturned the entire wagon."
"A Gryphon?" My eyes narrowed. "Description."
"They say its wingspan was over six meters, with dark yellow feathers on its chest and belly, black stripes crisscrossing its back, and a thick, dark brown tail."
"A Royal Gryphon." I nodded. "It doesn't belong in this area."
The soldier shook his head. "It didn't leave a complete corpse.
It carried away two servants and two horses."
"Which terrain?"
"Near the Old Stone Bridge, a rugged rock valley, windy, not suitable for defense."
I pondered for a moment, then dismounted. "Take me to your commander."
Soon after, an officer with shoulder armor and a stubbled face hurried over, his shoulder armor still stained with blood.
"You're the Witcher?" He sized me up. "You might get your way in Toussaint, but this border is under my command."
"What I need is your cooperation." I showed him the Griffin School medallion. "Do you want to waste time, or do you want to stop the death toll from rising?"
He stared at me for a moment, his tone finally softening. "We have a sentry who saw the Gryphon with his own eyes last night; he's in the tent getting bandaged now."
The sentry, named Hall, was ashen-faced, his left arm wrapped in a blood-stained bandage.
His words were disjointed, as if the memory itself carried pain.
"It... it flew in at night.
There was no sound, not even the wind.
Then, with a 'boom,' the whole wagon was smashed.
When I looked back, it stood in the firelight, its eyes like amber... I shot an arrow, and it didn't even dodge."
"It bit the horse to death, then dragged away the servants, and flew towards the North Cliff, flapping its wings."
I nodded. "I need to go to the attack site and the location where you shot the arrow."
The officer nodded, ordering two soldiers to take me there.
At dusk, we arrived near the Old Stone Bridge.
The wind whispered through the canyon, and residual bloodstains still marked the ground.
Bits of flesh, feathers, torn saddles, and rags were embedded in the rock crevices.
Clear claw marks were etched into the grey rock face, and feathers, yellow mixed with black stripes, thick and stiff like thorns, were caught in the branches.
"Yes, it's an adult male." I picked up a feather and sniffed it. "The smell of blood is mixed with carrion and wet moss—it feeds on carrion, which means there must be a pile of corpses or discarded remains nearby."
I then examined a piece of flesh; black-red blood oozed out when I squeezed it with my nail. "The internal organs were bitten to pieces, but there are no signs of swallowing—this is a territorial expulsion reaction, not foraging."
"You two return to camp." I stood up, looking towards the North Cliff. "It will be back tonight."
The two soldiers looked fearful but nodded and retreated.
As night fell, I returned to the camp.
I sat by the bonfire, spreading out my Witcher gear.
First, I prepared 'Hybrid Beast Oil,' simmering white marigolds in dog fat until the color turned dark brown.
I applied it evenly to my silver sword, its blade glinting faintly.
Next were 'Thunder' and 'Swallow' potions; one enhanced Sign power, the other improved regeneration.
I also brewed 'Cat Eye' potion for clear vision during night combat.
Finally, I tightened my shoulder and arm guards, adjusted the scabbard's position, and repeatedly practiced drawing and sheathing my sword until the movements were smooth and silent.
Grape stood not far away, her ears twitching.
I reached out and stroked her mane. "You're staying here this time."
She snorted softly, as if half-understanding.
Before dawn, I arrived at the North Cliff.
The wind here was sharper, the cliff face steep, with dense lichens growing between the rock layers.
I chose an open rock platform, placed chunks of meat mixed with buckthorn on a stone, and then retreated to the flank.
Time slowly passed until the air suddenly became still—
Then, that familiar sound.
Boom—
A tremor ran through the air, dust on the rock platform was stirred up by wings, and a dark shadow plunged down fiercely.
The male Gryphon had arrived.
Its wingspan exceeded seven meters, its body was massive, its wings like blades, its hind legs thick, its claws like hooked talons.
The feathers on its chest were yellowish, and its back was covered in mottled blood scars like ancient battle marks.
Its nostrils flared slightly, sniffing the meat.
I held my breath, waiting for it to lean down.
"Beehive," I whispered.
Boom!
The bomb exploded at its feet, flames licking its wings like tongues, and it roared, soaring into the air, creating a strong gust of wind.
I leaped out from behind the rock, my silver sword flashing cold light in the morning, accurately striking beneath its right wing.
The Gryphon shrieked in pain, its wings flailing.
I used a Quen shield to block the flying rock counterattack, rolled to its left, and slashed its belly with my sword, blood splattering.
It suddenly lunged up, both claws striking simultaneously.
I raised my sword to parry, my arm jolted, and I stumbled back several steps.
The Gryphon swooped again, its sharp beak snapping, I rolled to the side, and an Aard Sign erupted, sending it flying to crash against the rock wall.
It struggled to get up, spreading its wings, trying to take flight again.
"You're not going anywhere." I charged, severing a bone in its left wing with a single sword stroke, and it lost balance and fell.
I stepped onto its back, raised my blade high, and plunged the sword through its skull—
"Crunch."
It twitched for a moment, then finally lay still.
Morning light finally spilled into the valley.
I stood up, a long scratch on my cheek, blood flowing to my lips.
I wiped it away with my hand, looking down at the giant beast that had once dominated the skies.
I cut off its head, collected its bones, feathers, blood, and mutagen, placing them in my alchemy bag.
As the sun rose, I arrived at the outpost.
The guards were all silent.
The officer personally came forward. "You... you did it."
I tossed the Gryphon's head to the ground. "The body is on the North Cliff; be careful of its corrosive blood when you handle it."
He handed me a heavy pouch of crowns. "Two hundred crowns, funded jointly by the Sintra bounty and the caravan."
I took it. "The road?"
"Passage unobstructed." He said with respect.
I led Grape over, securing the materials to her saddle.
"Remember, if you want to prevent them from coming back, clean up the carrion in the valley.
Otherwise, the next one will appear very soon."
I said no more, following the convoy.
Sunlight spilled onto the mountain path, like a silver sword, cold, clear, and irresistible.