Chapter 78: Dandelion is a Rare Find
"Ah!"
Toruviel cried out, instinctively closing her eyes.
But the anticipated death didn't come. The axe merely grazed her face and sank into the wooden plank, the flying wood chips stinging her cheek.
"No one was talking to you, and you decided to ramp things up, eh?" Zoltan pulled out the axe, now fitted with a new handle, and pointed it at Toruviel: "Listening to you curse all the way here, I've pretty much figured it out the dryads give you a place to stay and help heal your wounds. Yet, instead of being grateful, you ambush humans all over their territory. When you meet someone you can't handle, you hide in the woods, and then you get angry when someone comes looking for you…"
The Dwarf spat a thick wad of phlegm onto the ground, concluding with a classic Dwarf curse: "What the hell is wrong with you lot!"
Toruviel muttered for a moment, looking like she wanted to argue, but after seeing the large axe in Zoltan's hand, she wisely sealed her mouth.
The party continued forward for a short distance before stopping again in the dense woods. Red-Kite jumped off the wagon bed, saying with some difficulty: "Wait here. I'll go ask them for your friend. Can you allow that?"
Compared to her initial, decisive tone, her current voice was weak, bordering on pleading.
Arthur was slightly confused: "You said we were exchanging prisoners. What good will it do for you to go alone?" He immediately understood: "You don't want to expose the location of the elves' camp, do you? But have you considered what happens if the elves turn hostile towards you, especially with your injured leg?"
Although Red-Kite considered herself a member of the dryads, she was human, and naturally sensitive to accusations of 'betrayal.' This was why she chose to put herself at risk to spare others.
While he understood her intention, Arthur couldn't agree to Red-Kite's proposal: "I cannot agree to your suggestion. Judging by the behavior of this elf [referring to Toruviel] on the way here, your standing among the elves is not high. If they turn against you, my companion will truly be lost."
Red-Kite's face went pale. She prepared to argue, but Arthur clapped Kolgrim and Zoltan on the shoulder: "You can take my two companions. One is a Witcher, known for being strictly neutral; the other is a Dwarf, who, for better or worse, has an old relationship with the elves. They shouldn't immediately start a fight."
Red-Kite didn't reject the compromise, but asked: "Aren't you afraid this is a trap? Aren't you afraid that my whistling along the way was for setting up an ambush?"
Arthur shook his head and grinned: "You wouldn't dare!" He had just displayed his power, and since he had no conflict of interest with the dryads, they would have to be out of their minds to complicate things now.
Red-Kite stared at him fixedly for a moment, then suddenly smiled brightly: "Then it's settled. I'll bring your companion back as quickly as possible."
To save time, and also to gain the elves' trust, she took Toruviel's warhorse and, along with Kolgrim and Zoltan, disappeared into the dense woods.
During the wait, Toruviel tried to start a conversation several times. Arthur had too many secrets, and whether he was an enemy or a friend in the future, the information would be very important to the elves.
Unfortunately, Arthur's attention was entirely focused on something else.
The Temerian Blade, the companion that had helped him defeat many powerful enemies, no longer possessed its former handsome appearance. The once pale-blue blade was now covered in cracks like spiderwebs and mosquito legs, making it look like a piece of ice that could shatter at any moment.
The extreme cold airflow generated by the Northern Wind bomb hadn't harmed Arthur, but it had been enough to destroy the resilience of the Temerian Blade. To restore its former glory, it would have to be reforged a task clearly beyond Arthur's current level of blacksmithing.
Just as Arthur was regretfully stroking the damaged greatsword, the trees ahead suddenly swayed violently.
Arthur cautiously placed the greatsword aside, and an electrical current began to gather in his lowered palm, readying the Lightning Bolt cantrip.
Fortunately, it wasn't a monster or an elf that emerged, but Red-Kite. Compared to her austere appearance before leaving, Red-Kite now had a blush on her face and looked very uncomfortable.
"What happened? Where is he?" Arthur was anxious. Why were there still three people coming back? Where was Dandelion?
Red-Kite straightened up, about to answer, but when Arthur looked at her directly, she awkwardly turned her head away, pointing at Zoltan:
"Ask your companion!"
Arthur looked at Zoltan. The Dwarf's bald head was now like a ripe tomato, red from the crown down to his neck: "Well, nothing much. When we reached the camp, the elves were having a party, one of those… rather loud ones. We, we…"
The Dwarf started to retch and gag after only a few words, pointing at Kolgrim: "They say Witchers have the strongest tolerance. You tell him."
"What exactly happened? Why are both of you acting like this?" Seeing their awkward expressions, Arthur felt like a small rat was scratching inside his chest, desperate for an answer.
Fortunately, Kolgrim remained composed. Facing Arthur's interrogation, he skipped the camp observations and countered with a question:
"Do you remember the lore about dryads specifically the part about reproduction?"
Arthur was even more puzzled. What did dryad reproduction have to do with Dandelion?
But Kolgrim stared fixedly at him, clearly signaling he wouldn't continue until Arthur answered. Arthur patiently recalled:
"Dryads, the indigenous inhabitants of Brokilon, and the guardians of this ancient forest. Um, they are an all-female race, and they need the help of outside males to reproduce…"
As if lightning struck his mind, he suddenly widened his eyes and gasped:
"Dandelion is now in the dryads' hands?"
By this time, Red-Kite had recovered some of her composure. She nodded: "When we reached the camp, the elves were… well, in any case, a relatively sober one told me that your companion was very welcome among the dryads, so they sent him off to the dryad responsible for healing…"
Arthur's head throbbed. What kind of mess was this? How did Dandelion, a living person, become a gift?
He immediately pressed: "Dandelion is with the dryads?! Can you contact that companion?"
Red-Kite nodded with a faint smile. Arthur finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Although the situation was getting increasingly complicated, based on his current interactions, the dryads seemed much more reasonable than the elves. Dandelion, at least in their hands, wasn't in any immediate mortal danger... probably.
"Heh heh heh, if I'm not mistaken, Dandelion should be having the time of his life in Duén Canell right now!" Zoltan burst into a slightly vulgar laugh, saying with a mischievous twinkle: "I think we shouldn't rush. If we arrive too early, the great poet might even complain!"
Kolgrim offered no comment but nodded discreetly in agreement.
"Alright, if you all feel that way, then we'll take it slow. But before that, there's one thing we need to deal with first."
Arthur turned and pointed to the elf trussed up on the wagon bed:
"What about her?"
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