Wizard: This witcher is neglecting his duties.

Chapter 89 Beginning and End

The next morning, when Geralt came out of the tent he had been given, he saw that new members had joined the dragon hunting team.

One of them wore a strange crimson hat adorned with silver buckles and a long egret feather that hung down, obscuring his eyes. Geralt recognized the hat and the feather; they were very famous in Buina and Eluga, known in all the mansions, castles, inns, taverns, and brothels—especially the brothels.

"Dandelion, what brings you here?"

"Geralt!"

A pair of cheerful blue eyes peeked out from under the hat. "What a surprise! Is it really you? Are you here to slay a dragon too?"

Geralt didn't answer the question, but instead frowned and looked at his poet classmate, asking:

"A month and a half ago, when we parted ways in Vigema City, didn't you say you were going to Oxford College?"

"This place is hundreds of miles away from the academy, what brings you here?"

Just as the poet was about to explain, he suddenly saw Yennefer emerge from the tent. As if immediately understanding something, he first bowed politely to the beautiful sorceress, then looked up at Geralt with a wink and said:

"God, Geralt, I know why you're here now."

"Have you two made up? Did you sleep together last night? Has Ms. Yennefer forgiven you?"

Upon hearing these three questions, Yennefer glanced at Dandelion expressionlessly, raised her finger slightly, and the poet clutched his throat, coughing violently.

The sorceress glared at Geralt, then gracefully departed for the king's tent.

Only after the sorceress's figure disappeared did Dandelion's expression begin to improve. He then walked with lingering fear to Geralt's side, patted him on the shoulder, and looked at him with pity, saying:

"Lady Yennefer is still as strong-willed as ever. Sorceresses are indeed not for ordinary people to handle. Only you witchers can bear their love, just like Wayne."

"By the way, is our Wayne here too? Is he in some sorceress's tent as well?"

Geralt looked at Dandelion, who showed no remorse and kept spouting nonsense, with a pained expression.

Remembering how Yennefer had turned him into a guard dog last night and made him stay in the tent all night, he knew he absolutely couldn't let his poet classmate know about this, otherwise, he would definitely be laughed at for a whole year, or even several years.

So he quickly changed the subject and asked:

"You still haven't said why you're not at the academy, but in Hollober."

Mentioning this, Dandelion proudly raised his head, twitching his mustache, and said:

"Don't you know who I am? I am the most talented bard and poet of this century. I completed all my studies in the first half of the year and earned my credits in less than a month, and then began my creative journey."

"I heard the news a week ago and made a special trip to Holober. I was supposed to set off with the king to record the entire story of this dragon hunt and compile it into a timeless poem for beautiful girls to sing for me."

"But to my surprise, the day before I was to leave, a beautiful young widow came to me and asked me to help her with a problem. When I woke up in her bed the next day, the sun had already started to set."

"That widow was so enthusiastic that I missed my meeting with the king. The young king didn't wait for me either. When I tried to catch up myself, I was stopped by that soldier outside the bridge. He said I couldn't pass without a pass."

At this point, Dandelion shook his head, speaking in a tone that suggested the other party was being very rude:

"What a blockhead! He almost made the greatest poet of this century miss this dragon-slaying extravaganza. Is this the kind of troublesome brat that appears in every story?"

Geralt looked helpless as his poet classmate rambled on and on with a bunch of nonsense. There was nothing he could do; that was just the kind of person Dandelion was—his mouth was his weapon, and once he started, he couldn't stop.

Geralt, however, didn't dislike the feeling. For someone as unpopular as him, having a friend like Dandelion, who was full of enthusiasm, was actually quite nice.

"So, you're saying you know the whole story?"

"About the green dragon, and why was a king involved in this?"

Although Geralt had been at the dragon hunting camp for a day, he hadn't gotten much information from anyone. He had been sold by Wayne to Yennefer as a guard, and all he knew was that his target was a green dragon and that he was injured. He knew nothing else.

Dandelion raised an eyebrow, chuckled, patted his chest, and said:

"Don't you know who I am? I am a great poet and bard. Whenever there is any major event in the Northern Kingdom, I will be there immediately."

"And every major event will become my work, accompanying my chanting, spreading my fame to everyone's ears."

Geralt, getting fed up with Dandelion's rambling, patted his poet classmate forcefully on the shoulder and said:

"Get to the point, stop with the nonsense."

Seeing Geralt's growing impatience, Dandelion abandoned his plan to play the lute and instead said briefly:

"The matter is very simple. About a week ago, a dragon landed outside the city of Holopol. Its body was as big as three horses. It pounced directly on the shepherd's flock of sheep from the air, scared the shepherd away, ate four sheep, killed several more, and flew away with the carcasses of several sheep."

"It flew away..."

Gerald nodded.

"Is that all? And then?"

"Of course not."

"It returned the next morning, this time even closer to the city. It swooped down and pounced on the washerwomen along the Bula River. My friends, they scattered in terror! I've never seen anything so funny in my life. The dragon circled Holoppel twice before flying off to a nearby pasture to attack the sheep."

"What panic and chaos it caused! Just the day before, nobody even believed the shepherd's words... The mayor began to mobilize the city's militia and guilds, but before he could even organize his forces, the people resolved the matter on their own."

Geralt frowned; he didn't believe that an ordinary person could deal with a dragon flying in the sky.

"How was it resolved?"

"In a very common way. A shoemaker named Kozoed came up with a plan. They slaughtered a sheep and stuffed its belly with dodder, belladonna, hemlock, sulfur, and shoemaker's resin. To be on the safe side, the local apothecary took it upon himself to add two quarts of boiled medicine, and then had the priest of the Cliff Temple bless the offering."

"Then they tied the sheep to the stake and put it in the flock. Honestly, no one believed that the dragon would choose this stinking dead sheep out of a thousand, but the result was beyond everyone's expectations. All the other sheep were alive and well, but this one was swallowed by it along with the stake."

Dandelion spoke with great enthusiasm and in great detail, perhaps because he had witnessed the event firsthand.

"Not long after—the time it takes for a skilled man to unbutton a woman's corset—the dragon began to roar, spewing smoke from its mouth and rear. Then it rolled over, trying to fly away but crashed down and lay still."

"Two men volunteered to run over and check if it was still breathing. One of them was the local gravedigger, and the other was the village idiot."

"We later built them a small but extremely beautiful tomb."

Geralt knew the green dragon was still alive, otherwise he wouldn't have formed the current dragon-hunting team.

"So, is the green dragon playing dead?"

"That's exactly right."

Dandelion replied cheerfully:

"It was still alive, but too weak to swallow the gravedigger and the idiot. It only drank their blood, and then it took flight... Though it flew with great difficulty, it still worried everyone. Every time the dragon thrashed about a cubit, it would roar and fall, then take flight again. Sometimes it could only drag itself forward on its hind legs. The braver ones followed at a distance, not letting it out of sight. You would never guess what happened next."

"The dragon leaped into a canyon in the Great Castor Mountains, not far from the source of the Bra River. It has been hiding in a cave there ever since."

"Dragon's Nest?"

Geralt understood why so many people had gathered here. The treasure in the dragon's lair was a well-known legend, and every adventurer, peasant, noble, and even king had heard the story.

He nodded and said:

"I understand why the soldiers blocked that bridge. Someone wants to keep the treasure for themselves, and that person is Niedamir of Kangon."

“Exactly,” the bard nodded. “The whole of Holopor is in an uproar. They feel the dragon’s treasure should belong to them, but they dare not openly oppose Niedamir. That king is a young fool, barely out of his mind, but he knows how to inspire awe. Niedamir’s desire for the dragon outweighs everything else, which is why he acted so swiftly.”

Geralt frowned upon hearing this, glanced back at the magnificent king's tent, and asked with some confusion:

"I don't think a king would go to such lengths to slay a dragon himself for a mere, unattainable treasure!"

"Are there any other reasons?"

Dandelion smiled smugly. As a renowned poet, he knew more about the situation than the average person.

"I believe he's more interested in dragons than treasure. Because think about it, Niedamir has been coveting the Duchy of Maruil for a long time. After the mysterious death of the duchy's prince, only a princess of marriageable age remained. But the noble class of the Duchy of Maruil doesn't approve of Niedamir or any of his suitors."

"Because they knew that the new ruler would definitely reduce their power, and the young princess was easily swayed and simply couldn't handle the situation. So, the court ministers dug out an old, dusty book of prophecies that said the crown and the princess's jade hands belonged only to the one who conquered the dragon. They believed this would maintain the status quo, since no one in the surrounding area had seen a dragon for a long time."

"Nedamir didn't care about any prophecy. He tried every means to conquer the Duchy of Maruel by force, but when news of dragons appearing in Holopel reached his ears, he realized that this was a good opportunity to silence the Maruel nobles."

"If he can return to Maruel with the dragon's head in his arms, people will welcome him as if he were a king sent by the gods, and the nobles will no longer complain."

"So, he'll definitely be hunting that dragon like a cat chasing a mouse. Besides, that dragon is having a hard time even crawling now. For Niedamir, this is a golden opportunity, fate is smiling upon him. Damn it."

After hearing Dandelion's explanation, Geralt couldn't help but frown and exhale. This matter had indeed involved politics again, and it was still about the struggle for the throne.

Every few years, this kind of thing happens on the northern continent: nobles start wars for power, leaving behind dozens of peasant corpses, a group of orphans and widows, and then attracting a group of monsters.

Geralt had become numb to such things.

He waved to Dandelion. Now that Yennefer had gone to see the king, he didn't need his guards. He planned to take his poet classmate to the tent for a drink.

That was the sorceress's wine.

However, Yennefer was never stingy with these material possessions, so drinking a bottle or two shouldn't be a problem.

Just then, the king's tent was pulled open from the inside, and a tall, haughty man dressed as a warrior, wearing a purple velvet tunic and a short jacket decorated with sable fur, was driven out.

He was still shouting:

"Dragons are endangered animals, and killing them will only bring us disaster, as countless examples have proven."

"As a king, you should understand this principle even more, instead of destroying the balance of nature for your own selfish gain."

Looking at the richly dressed man who had been driven out by the guards, Geralt raised an eyebrow and asked Dandelion:

"Who is this guy? Natural Balance, could he be a follower of Druids?"

The poet shook his head mysteriously, chuckled, and said:

"This is the magician, Master Dorrigare. It is thanks to his help that I was able to come here without a pass."

(End of this chapter)