Chapter 79: Magic Is Not So Inconvenient
"Just chop her up. Dandelion isn't in the elves' hands anymore. Are we keeping her for the New Year?" Zoltan's opening remark instantly made the female elf's face turn ashen, and she shrieked: "Dead Dwarf, are you truly heartless enough to kill someone who can't fight back?"
Zoltan sneered and lifted his axe, deliberately swinging it back and forth in front of Toruviel: "Says the ones who were so 'honorable' before." Though he had fitted the axe with a new wooden handle, the rough, unpolished texture, due to the rush, made the Dwarf quite unhappy.
"I suggest we release her," Kolgrim interjected. Facing the Dwarf's dissatisfied glare, he explained: "This is dryad territory, after all. Killing someone without asking permission would be impolite." He paused, then advised Arthur: "Besides, Dandelion is still in the dryads' hands. We shouldn't push things too far."
Red-Kite quickly added: "That would be an act of goodwill and respect. Brokilon won't forget it."
For her, the Witcher's suggestion was a godsend. While she could explain that she led the way to the elves to prevent the conflict from escalating further, if the elves insisted she was a traitor, Eithné might react badly. But if she earned the credit for 'negotiating Toruviel's release,' she wouldn't have to worry about the elves slandering her.
Just as Red-Kite grew excited, Arthur shook his head:
"We can release her, but not here, and not right now. These elves are erratic; releasing her immediately might cause trouble. I say we take this elf to Duén Canell and release her in front of Eithné. That is the only foolproof plan."
Zoltan had only spoken impulsively before, so he readily agreed.
Kolgrim, however, remained silent for a long moment before nodding his approval. Arthur's suggestion seemed similar to his own, but the underlying logic was vastly different: releasing the elf on the spot would earn favor for Red-Kite; releasing her at Duén Canell would earn favor with the Dryad Queen.
Red-Kite, a human who was dependent on the dryads, even if she were immensely grateful to Arthur, what reward could she offer that would compare to a mere word of 'thanks' from the Dryad Queen?
This boy is no longer the naive youth he once was.
Red-Kite said nothing about Arthur's final decision, only biting her lip slightly before stepping forward to lead the way.
As they walked, she suddenly felt that this solution was indeed the safest. No matter what happened next, she was completely exonerated. The human boy's suggestion genuinely helped her, but... why?
She walked along absently, her mind recalling the moment Arthur used the Quen Sign to protect her from the Northern Wind's cold blast.
Red-Kite subtly turned her head, looking at Arthur through the cover of her hair. She suddenly realized that not only was he handsome, but he also had a faint glow about him. Her steps became more purposeful.
Although Red-Kite tried her best to choose easily passable paths, a forest was fundamentally different from flat terrain. By the time darkness fell, Duén Canell was still nowhere in sight, forcing them to find a place to set up camp.
"Ugh, this cursed forest has so many rules; we can't even get a hot meal," Zoltan sighed, breaking a piece of bread and tossing it into a helmet filled with creek water, complaining: "I'm not being picky, but you humans really don't care about your food. Look at this bread! It's hard as rock!"
This was no exaggeration. Arthur had just seen the Dwarf use the same loaf to hammer his axe handle tight.
Arthur explained: "It can't be helped. Everything in the Principality of Maribor is taxed. Villagers only dare to use the communal oven once every six months, so they have to bake the dough completely dry to make it last until the next time they can use the oven."
Red-Kite curved her lips into a slight smile: "There are some fruit trees nearby that have borne fruit. I'll go gather some."
Zoltan rubbed his hands together, practically drooling: "Many thanks! Off you go!"
But the moment Red-Kite's figure disappeared, he impatiently said to Arthur: "Wouldn't it be better to boil some hot soup while that lass is gone? Using cold water, who knows when that bread will soften up!"
Arthur shook his head: "Just bear with it for a while. We are asking for their help, so let's respect the dryads' taboo."
Zoltan let out a mournful sigh, sat down heavily, and stared blankly at the chunks of bread in his helmet.
Seeing the Dwarf suffer so much was both amusing and a little painful for Arthur. He had heard that in winter, the local people had to start soaking their bread a full day in advance just to soften it. Although winter was over, this rock-hard bread wasn't going to soften up in a mere hour.
If only there were a way to heat things up without fire…
Arthur's eyes darted around. He suddenly pulled out the Book of Illusions and flipped to the section on the Electric Claw cantrip.
In Triss's graceful handwriting, there was an entry:
[During the Magic Innovation Salon in the XXXX year, Yennefer demonstrated heating metal using lightning.] [She said it was a variant application of the Electric Claw. But when I tried it privately, it had no effect at all. I truly don't know how she managed it.]
"Aha! That's it!" Arthur excitedly slapped his thigh. This thing was essentially a magic-driven induction cooker!
Recalling the principles of the induction cooktop taught by his physics teacher, he adjusted the Electric Claw spell model and said: "Come on, help me hang up the helmet!"
Zoltan instantly sprang to his feet, picking up some stones to prop up the helmet: "You plan to use that trick to heat the water?" He winked at Arthur, making the gesture for the Igni Sign, while subtly shifting his body to block Toruviel's view.
Kolgrim also moved closer, providing a more thorough block against the elf, though his tone was worried: "I think we shouldn't try to exploit loopholes like this. Magic fire is still fire…"
Arthur pushed the two men aside: "No need for all the secrecy. Why should magic be so inconvenient?"
With that, he squatted down, cupped his hands beneath the helmet, and began to cast.
"What are you doing?" Zoltan blinked, confused. There was no flame or any other sign of magic emanating from Arthur's palms.
But a few seconds later, pearl-sized bubbles began to appear one after another on the inner surface of the helmet. The sizzling sound grew louder and louder. Soon, the water was boiling, and the bread began to soften.
"That's bloody amazing! How did you do that?!" Zoltan clapped his hands and laughed, which alerted Red-Kite, who had just returned.
Seeing the boiling bread soup, Red-Kite froze in place. Fruits and rabbits tumbled from her gathered skirt:
"What have you done?!"
She glared at Arthur, her voice filled with despair and anger. She had believed this young man was decent, and yet he had caused such a disaster in the blink of an eye!
Gurgle. The scent of the bread soup wafted over, causing Toruviel's stomach to rumble loudly at a highly inopportune moment.
Red-Kite's gaze snapped to the elf, and she was instantly seized by a murderous urge lighting a fire in Brokilon was an absolute taboo. The elf would definitely not miss this chance to stir up trouble.
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