Chapter 87: The Great Sinner, The Poet
Years later, standing on the wide stone plaza of Duén Canell, Eithné would recall the riot of this day.
Initially, she paid no mind to the squabble, thinking it was just a regular spat, a regular brawl, a regular mass fight... until the disturbance became relevant to every single dryad.
Led by the black-haired Sîrsa and the red-and-green-haired Fafv, the dryads had split into two factions: the 'Rapid Growth Faction' and the 'Eugenics Faction.'
The Rapid Growth dryads were mostly those converted from human girls who had drunk the Water of Brokilon. These young dryads, stripped of all their memories, fanatically shouted that the interests of Brokilon transcended everything else.
The Eugenics dryads, on the other hand, were mostly the products of unions with non-dryad males. While their bloodline wasn't exactly pure, their sanity was relatively intact, and they advocated for more moderate policies.
They craned their necks out of the tree houses, attempting to decide Dandelion's fate through rhetoric. But as more dryads joined, the argument shifted from a contest of words and logic to a battle of sheer volume. Consequently, dryads constantly stepped out of their rooms to stand beside Sîrsa and Fafv, loudly criticizing the opposition.
The noise they created grew louder and the speed of their arguments increased. The Witchers quickly lost interest in 'broadcasting' and turned their attention to the simmering bread stew in the helmet.
Ciri and Zoltan formed a temporary partnership and occupied the window space vacated by the Witchers. The little princess stood on the Dwarf's shoulders, straining her small head forward, and exclaimed: "Look, the dryads are starting to throw berries!"
On the sickbed, Fisstech covered his ears in distress: "Why can't they just have a real fight?"
Dandelion arranged himself into a comfortable position on the bed and lazily remarked: "They won't actually fight. Dryads are the most benevolent creatures I know toward their own kind. The biggest hobbies these girls have are tending to trees and small animals…"
Before he could finish, Ciri suddenly erupted in a shriek: "Holy sh*t! They're fighting!"
"Ciri, you are a princess. Such crude language should not leave your mouth." Fisstech chastised Ciri, but seeing her expression, he knew the girl paid no heed.
"Where, where? I love watching women fight the most!" Zoltan hopped eagerly, but Ciri clearly couldn't support his weight. So, he simply pushed the door ajar and watched with relish.
While called a fight, the dryads were actually quite restrained. The anticipated scene of disheveled hair and torn clothes didn't happen; the dryads were merely tossing berries at each other.
How should one put it? The snowball fights Arthur had with his classmates before he crossed over were more intense than this.
Arthur shook his head in disappointment, about to leave, when he spotted a few familiar figures on the edge of the chaos it was the same dryads who had been monitoring them earlier! They were taking advantage of their elevated position, hurling berries down like hail, forcing the 'Eugenics Faction' to keep their heads down.
By this point, the dryads' quarrel had moved from Dandelion's activities to attacking each other's origins. Only Arthur and his group inside the tree house still remembered the conflict's beginning.
Dandelion, you truly are a great sinner, aren't you?
After sighing inwardly, Arthur suddenly made a silencing gesture to everyone inside, then quietly pulled Kolgrim and tiptoed toward the door. Whatever Eithné was planning, whether Ciri's issue would ultimately be resolved through negotiation or force, gathering more intelligence was always useful.
Thud! The moment Arthur stepped out of the tree house, his foot stomped heavily onto the tree branch, making a dull sound that echoed far into the night.
Fortunately, the dryads were busy fighting and the cover of darkness obscured their vision, so no one noticed them.
Kolgrim turned his head in astonishment:
"What are you doing?"
A flicker of surprise crossed Arthur's eyes. The step he had just taken had enough force behind it to launch a charge!
How could this happen?
He gestured his surprise to Kolgrim and cautiously took another step. This time, he focused entirely on controlling his footfall, touching down first with his toe before slowly lowering his sole.
No sound!
Arthur breathed a long sigh of relief and signaled Kolgrim to continue leading the way. It seemed his path of stealth wasn't entirely blocked!
Unfortunately, after only a few more steps, a heavy footfall sounded on the branch again.
This… how is this possible?!
Arthur was astonished. He had only relaxed slightly, and his step immediately became heavy again. It was as if the Nord bloodline itself was resisting the act of stealth!
Yes, it was resisting!
Arthur's eyes darted around. He remembered his experience when using his oratory skill to gather intelligence. When he tried to gain an advantage through conversation, the action was completely autonomous he wouldn't receive directional hints similar to alchemy or smithing, nor would he say anything unexpected.
But now, if he lost focus for just a moment, his foot would stomp down with the force of a full charge. This was clearly a form of resistance!
"If you can't manage it, you should stay in the tree house. Geralt and I are enough to go out and gather intelligence." Kolgrim whispered.
Arthur shook his head repeatedly. He wasn't just out here to figure out Eithné's plan. The cave beneath the giant oak, filled with intense magic, also filled him with curiosity...
No, it was yearning!
The magic emanating from that sinkhole was unprecedentedly soft, rich, and sweet! Even sitting inside the tree house, Arthur could feel his cells craving that power! It might just be the source of all the dryads' secrets!
However, seeing Kolgrim's worried expression, Arthur knew that his tendency to make too much noise while sneaking was definitely delaying things…
Perhaps I could use air magic to form dense cushions around my feet to dampen and contain the sound?
No. Eithné was called 'Silver Eye' and lived in a place with such concentrated magic. She surely possessed high magical attainment. There was no reason he could perceive the magical fluctuations but the Dryad Queen could not. To avoid being seen through by that old veteran, it was best to forgo any flashy magic and rely only on the most primitive stealth techniques.
But how could he solve the problem of stomping whenever his mind wandered?
As he pondered, a breeze blew, causing the surrounding branches and leaves to rustle together. Arthur suddenly had an idea.
Arthur turned and returned to the tree house, scanning the group's outerwear. He immediately found what he needed a dead twig hanging on a cloak.
He broke the twig into two segments, adjusted the height, and inserted them vertically into his boots. This would serve perfectly to remind him to tread lightly!
Arthur tried a few steps and found that when walking gingerly, he felt almost nothing under his sole. But the moment he applied even a little force, he was immediately jabbed painfully.
He nodded in satisfaction, signaling Kolgrim that they could depart.
"Kid, you're pretty rough on yourself!" Kolgrim said with a complex look, watching Arthur's finally lightened footsteps.
Arthur chuckled, quickly following the Witcher as they slipped into the night.
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