Bodies aren't hard to come by in Velen. But to find a corpse whose hand still grasps a note mentioning treasure - that is a rare thing, indeed. Thus Geralt decided to read them carefully and investigate what strange story they might be hiding.
I've stopped the bleeding. I need to collect my thought.
I could go for help. There's a village not far, I can hear dogs barking. But people would see what uniform I wear. They'd ask what I was doing in the swamps. They'd figure it out. They'd take everything, maybe kill me. This is Velen, after all.
I've lost a quart of blood. Maybe more. If the wound is still clean come dawn, I should pull through. I'll leave at daylight, maybe then the drowners won't attack. I'll bury the treasure and head to Novigrad. Should be able to find a decent man there to patch me up. Someone who won't ask questions. Who doesn't care if you're a deserter.
All that's left to me now is to pray that no one sees the tracks I left. That they don't follow the blood trail and find the treasure. But no one will come through here. I hope. Everything will be fine.
It seems the wounded deserter never made it to Novigrad nor decided to ask the nearby villagers for help. Instead, he died alone in the swamp, leaving behind his treasure. The witcher mourned his tragedy, but rejoiced in his own good luck.