"Thank you, Master Dandelion." A man wearing a bright blue cloak with gold edges on his shoulders stood up from the crowd. His voice was not loud but very deep. "Please allow me - Radcliffe of Niubao, the master of magical mysteries - to express my gratitude and praise for your superb skills. I believe that everyone present will agree with me."
The crowd began to cheer, others raised their hands to greet the singers, and the women were moved by the music and sobbed softly, wiping their eyes with whatever they had.
Dandelion also saw the Baron and his family, who had canceled their hunting trip to watch the famous poet's country performance.
The performance was over and the surroundings returned to their previous noise. The merchants whispered a few words and pushed a large barrel of beer under the oak tree. The baron's daughters cast admiring eyes on Dandelion, who was concentrating on smiling at a big-eyed elf beauty.
Dandelion's apprentice put down his lute and picked up the small box he had been using to collect money so that he could properly express his admiration, but he assessed the cheers around him and dropped the box, picking up a large bucket instead.
This action made Dandelion withdraw his gaze from the elven beauty, and he admired the apprentice's cleverness.
"Master!" Someone in the crowd suddenly shouted, "You haven't finished your story yet. Tell us what happened next!"
"You didn't mention any names in your song, but we all know that the character in your song can only be the famous Geralt of Rivia, and the sorceress who ignited the flame of love with him is the equally famous Yennefer. As for the unexpected child, the child who is linked to the fate of the witcher and bound by an oath from birth is Cirilla, the princess of Cintra who unfortunately lost her country. Is this correct?"
Dandelion smiled mysteriously and indifferently: "Everyone, the plot in my ballad can happen anywhere, and the emotions in the song can also be experienced by anyone. It has nothing to do with specific people."
A girl screamed: "Master, we all know that this song is about the witcher Geralt! Keep singing! Please tell us what happened next? Did the witcher and the sorceress Yennefer finally find each other? Are they still in love? Did they find happiness? We really want to know!"
A dwarf suddenly stood up from the crowd. He was the leader of a group of dwarf soldiers. He shouted at the screaming girls, as if he was deafened by the noise.
"That's enough! Princesses, sorceresses, fate, love, all this is nonsense, poetic fiction, just to make the story more beautiful and touching."
After that, the dwarf turned to Dandelion again: "Please forgive my offense, great poet. But your poem's description of the war between Soden and Mahakam is really wonderful, as well as Cintra, which was destroyed by the iron hoof of Nilfgaard, and the looting and massacre that took place there - it's so vivid! I am willing to pay for such a song! This is the voice of a warrior!"
"No!" A knight in the audience shouted, "Cintra has not been destroyed. As far as I know, the Lion Knight whose poems are widely circulated returned to Cintra to stabilize the situation and resist Nilfgaard. He is now known as the 'Lion of Cintra'!"
"Huh? Then I have to ask this delusional knight who can't control his tongue." The dwarf leader widened his eyes. "I respect the Lion Knight. I have his commemorative Gwent card in my hand, but as far as I know, he was killed by the Nilfgaardians in Toussaint. How can he return to Cintra to stabilize the situation?"
"Are you saying I'm lying? Insulting the honor and dignity of a knight?" The knight jumped up with a red face. "Everyone in the northern border knows that the Lion Knight has appeared again. How could a man like him be ambushed by the Nilfgaardians? You don't even know this. I don't think you have ever been to the battlefield!"
"Shut your rotten mouth, I am a frontline soldier supporting the battle of Soden in Mahakam!"
A quarrel began, and the voices of the humans and dwarves grew louder and louder, even to the point of drawing swords.
A gray-haired druid in a white cloak came out in time to dissuade them: "My lords! Don't quarrel under the canopy of Beliuheris. This oak tree is older than all the disputes and quarrels in the world! We should learn to love from the songs of Dandelion's poets, not to fight!"
The druid was highly respected, which made the quarreling parties temporarily swallow their curse words. However, a short and fat priest seemed to think that there was an opportunity and took the opportunity to speak along with the druid's words.
"Love and peace, that's it!"
The priest, his face covered in sweat, echoed, "Why do you fight? Because you have no love for God in your hearts. The ballads tell of the fate of mankind, because we are no different from playthings in the hands of the gods, and the land beneath our feet is just the playground of the gods. The things described in the poems, the witcher, the lion knight, the princess and the sorceress are just pure metaphors, the product of the poet's imagination. We can't just listen to the stories, but feel the will of God from them..."
"What nonsense are you talking about, great saint?" a knight shouted, "What product of imagination? That's why I hate you guys who are so superstitious. You believe in your own fantasies and deny the facts you haven't seen. I have seen Lann of Cintra. He is a true knight and a lion worthy of praise!"
"I agree." A slender female warrior also stood up, her smooth black hair combed back into a thick braid. "I am Leila of Lyria. Although I have never seen a lion, I know Geralt the White Wolf. He is an extraordinary warrior. I have never seen anyone who can use a sword better than him."
"But as far as I know." A sturdy young man with red hair shook his head. He was dressed like a traveler. "Queen Calanthe of Cintra and King Ester have no sons or daughters. Where did the unexpected child in the poem come from? What's her name, Princess Cirilla?"
The people who were arguing fell silent. They looked at the red-haired young man, as if wondering how such a person had intruded into their conversation.
The knight kicked the red-haired young man and said, "Queen Calanthe gave birth to a princess with her ex-husband, Princess Pavetta. Later, Princess Pavetta and her husband died in a shipwreck. Princess Cirilla is their only daughter, known as the young lion of Cintra. Do you understand? You idiot!"
A dwarf sat on his barrel and thought, "But I heard that Princess Cirilla died when Cintra was destroyed. All the royal family members died together, including Princess Cirilla."
"That's nonsense!" said the knight again, "The lion is still alive, how could anything happen to the cub?"
The dwarf leader shouted: "Your lion died in Toussaint long ago!"
The dwarves and knights were about to draw their swords against each other again, the baron and the wizard looked on coldly, the dwarf merchant suddenly seized the opportunity to sell beer to the people around him, and the priest loudly denounced the barbaric behavior but no one paid any attention.
"Everyone, we are all children of the earth." Finally, the druid calmed the fight again. "We are descendants of nature, travelers gathered in the Land of Friendship. We are among the primitive roots. We should put aside our respective identities and prejudices, because this land gave birth to all of us. Let us not forget the ballad of the poet Dandelion..."
"Wait," someone suddenly shouted in the crowd, "Dandelion is gone! His apprentice is gone too, with the full bag of coins. Where did he go?"
"He ran away." A tall elf next to the beautiful elf who Dandelion had been flirting with said expressionlessly. He had been watching everything coldly. "While you were arguing about his story, he ran away with his harvest and went to enjoy it."
"What a dwarf!" the knight cursed angrily, feeling that his enthusiasm was wasted.
"Like a dwarf!" screamed the dwarf trader.
"Like an elf!" The dwarf leader puffed his beard and glared.
"Like a human," corrected the beautiful elf who had been enduring Dandelion's smile.
"Where did he go? Where can we find out what happened next?" the Baron's daughters asked in confusion. They were so engrossed in the love story between the witcher and the sorceress that they could not extricate themselves.
…
"At that time, I was captured by Reigns. That was our first meeting." Dandelion's face was solemn. "He was unreasonable and kidnapped me directly from under the giant oak tree Beleukhelis. Otherwise, I would definitely have a good talk with my fans."
Lan raised an eyebrow: "Really?"
"Of course." Dandelion raised his head modestly. "You didn't see the scene. The Baron's daughter and the elven girl were both in love with me. I need to mediate the fight between them. After all, I am a singer and an artist. I should bring peace and love."
Dandelion sighed, "What a pity that abominable warlock suddenly showed up and ruined everything!"
…
When the stranger knocked at Dandelion's door, two girls were sitting on the poet's knees. The money he had just received under the great oak tree was enough for him to indulge in a small luxury.
But the strange noise disturbed the poet's mood, and Dandelion smoothed his hair and sat up in the large carved armchair. The two girls jumped off his knees and shyly adjusted their messy clothes to cover their infinite spring.
Watching the girls leave with giggles, the poet complained unhappily: "Strange guest, you seem to be very good at finding people, but you are really not very good at choosing the right time."
"Forgive me for my intrusion, Master," the stranger said politely as he approached the table. "I know it's not right to disturb you at this time, but you disappeared from under the oak tree so quickly that I couldn't catch up with you on the road, nor could I immediately find your trace in this town. I won't take up too much of your time."
He was polite, but without waiting for Dandelion to respond to his question, he continued, "I am a fan of your songs, and I am deeply fascinated by the characters in your poems. I want to know the true fate of the protagonists in your songs. The beautiful works I heard under the big oak tree must have been based on the true fate of real people."
“I want to know.” The stranger looked Dandelion straight in the eye. “Geralt, and where Cirilla is.”
"My dear stranger," the poet said dryly, "your interests are very strange, and so are your questions. I am very curious..."
A huge money bag was thrown in front of Dandelion: "I hope this will make you forget your curiosity."
The poet, who had just rolled up the money and quietly slipped away under the giant oak tree, did not even look at the bag of money thrown in front of him. He said expressionlessly: "I'm sorry, I really don't want to discuss the theme, inspiration and characters of my work, whether it is fictional or not. This will deprive the romance and beauty of poetry and make it stale and mediocre - especially to strangers."
"Will you? Even with this full bag of money? That's more than your big concert brought in this afternoon. I think I'm being very generous."
"This is not a question of compensation, stranger, but professional ethics. If I tell you, I will never be able to hold a concert again." Dandelion shook his head and started to talk nonsense.
The stranger sighed. "I wanted to treat the artist in a more polite way, but I'm sorry, I have to know the answer to the question."
He stripped off his mask of elegance and began to show the desperado temperament that Dandelion had often encountered in his travels.
"Remember, my name is Rience. And you may have to suffer, dear poet."
Suddenly, a blue light flashed before the poet's eyes, and his limbs gradually became numb, dull, and stiff. He wanted to shout to call the proprietress of the store over, because such "entertainment venues" would be equipped with a few tough guys to prevent people from causing trouble.
But Reens may have seen what Dandelion was thinking. He smiled grimly and said, "Don't think about anything else. There are only you and me in this house."
"We'll have plenty of time to kill between us."
…
"When I woke up, my shoulder and wrist were sprained, which almost prevented me from playing the piano. I wanted to scream, but my mouth was blocked as if it was filled with clay. Then I realized that the guy named Lience was actually a warlock."
Dandelion muttered, "He's actually a warlock. This is all really too new. He dresses like a mercenary and likes to use ropes and knives. What kind of warlock would do that?"
Lann smiled and said, "Perhaps you have only been dealing with high-level warlocks like Yennefer. There are still many crappy spellcasters in this world. I once killed several Nilfgaardian warlocks in one go on the battlefield. They couldn't even open a portal."
Dandelion looked at Lan blankly and said, "You are even more boastful than I am."
Lann smiled indifferently and took the initiative to continue the topic about Reens: "I guess you must have escaped later, otherwise I wouldn't have met you here."
The poet nodded. "Yes, I didn't reveal any trace of Geralt under the warlock's torture, and at the same time I denounced his despicable behavior. This made him so angry that he almost took my life. Fortunately, Yennefer was also at the giant oak tree that day, and she passed by and saved me."
…
"Gods, please forgive me. I really don't know where Geralt is. The last time I met him was a year ago. At that time, he abandoned me alone on the mountain. I rolled down the hillside and almost lost my life. After that, I lost contact with him!"
"I swear this is true. I hate him more than you do! He ruined my shoes and my wonderful night. If I see him again, I will hit him on the head with my lute. We are in the same group, Mr. Warlock!"
Dandelion burst into tears, and his voice that sang like the sound of nature also had a special ability to make people uneasy. Reans was so annoyed that he waved his hand and sealed the poet's mouth with magic.
There were three people standing in the room, one was Reans, his vicious eyes illuminated by the light, and there were two other thugs, one holding a lamp and the other standing guard at the door. Dandelion could hear their breathing and the strong smell of sweat on them.
Dandelion knelt on the dirt floor, his wrists bound by a rope that looped around the beams and held him up. He tried to stand up to relieve the pressure on his shoulders, but found his legs were also bound.
"Our conversation is not over yet, you lousy poet. The last time we met, the occasion was more respectable, and I only asked you one question. Now, you have to answer all my questions, and there is no respect at all. Do you understand the current situation?"
Dandelion felt as if a piece of clay was stuffed into his throat, silencing him. He could only nod hastily in agreement.
Rience smiled and gestured, and the poet gave a helpless scream, feeling the ropes tighten, his arms twisted behind his back, his joints aching.
"I know, clever poet, you are confusing me. I know you have no contact with the White Wolf. But you must know where the witcher is when you haven't seen him for a year. They should have a gathering place, right?"
Rience waved his hand to remove the poet's mute spell: "This time, think clearly before you speak. I want you to answer me quickly and fluently, and tell me everything you know. Otherwise, your lips will go into your throat, poet!"
Dandelion's face turned pale, and he gnashed his teeth in anger. But even so, he continued to groan and tremble:
"I don't know... Gods, I'm only a poet! I heard part of it, but I made up the rest... I'm only a poet..."
Reeves laughed maliciously, and magical fluctuations began to emanate from his hands again. Dandelion closed his eyes in despair.
At this moment, the villain who was on the lookout suddenly reminded: "Sir, someone is coming."
In the silence of the night, there was an obvious sound of footsteps pouring through water on the muddy road, and then a sound like a wooden fence being pulled open.
Reans himself lacked patience, and in his haste to interrogate, he did not take Dandelion to some secret interrogation room, but interrogated him nearby.
He was originally confident that he could let the spineless poet tell him everything he knew, but he didn't expect that he would drag on for so long and even attract outsiders.
Reins frowned: "Turn off the lights."
The room fell into darkness and silence.
The door creaked open and a foul odor hit him in the face. Only then did Dandelion realize that he was locked in a small room in the pigsty.
A short woman in a cloak and a round hat appeared at the door. The man on guard swung his knife at her without hesitation. As a result, the man on guard staggered and knelt down under the influence of inertia, and the knife did not hit anything, but only drew a cloud of smoke.
It's an illusion, the person who came is a sorcerer!
After the illusion disappeared, a figure rushed into the cabin, as agile as a mongoose. She first waved her hands, allowing an invisible barrier to cover the entire cabin, and the surroundings instantly became quiet. It seemed that she didn't want to make too much noise to disturb the surroundings.
Then, Dandelion saw lightning swirling in the hands of the short cloaked man, which hit the man who was keeping watch directly. The aroma of barbecue and a short scream suddenly wafted in the air.
After killing one person instantly, the lightning seemed to have a spirit and jumped around in the room. Dandelion closed his eyes in fear, and only heard the continuous howling or wailing in his ears, and then the sound of the strong man falling to the ground.
Fortunately, I didn't feel any pain at all.
Reens shouted angrily, and a blue light film appeared in front of him. Then he drew out his dagger and wanted to meet the enemy like a warrior. Unexpectedly, the lightning still had some power left after shattering the light film, and several arcs of electricity stuck to his face and shoulders.
The warlock flew backwards and smashed the wooden wall of the pigpen.
The short cloaked man wanted to chase after him, but he saw a golden halo suddenly appear under Reans' feet. He fell into it and disappeared, and then flames burst out from it.
The sudden change in the situation forced the short cloaked man to stop, and he recited words that Dandelion could not understand quickly and rhythmically. Then a yellow oval wrapped the flames and disappeared together.
Darkness fell again.
"Help!" Dandelion felt the magical power blocking his throat disappear, and he wailed miserably, "Help!"
"Stop yelling, Dandelion, it's me." The little cloaked man, or rather, Yennefer, took off his hood and cut Dandelion's rope with a dagger.
Although it was dark, the poet who was well versed in music still immediately recognized Yennefer's voice.
"Thank God, Yennefer! I apologize for all the harsh words and offensive language I said to you before. From today on, you are the most beautiful woman in the world. I hope you and Geralt will never be separated until the end of the world. I want to come up with a masterpiece for you that will resound the North. I'm starting throughout to think about it now... I think... I'm sorry, maybe it's because I've been left hanging for too long, I just want to vomit now..."
"The fact that you didn't pee your pants is the best way to thank me." Yennefer sneered, "I heard your singing under the giant oak tree. I wanted to talk to you, but I didn't expect you to run so fast. Fortunately, I found you after all."
"I want to thank you again, Yennefer. I know you don't like me and we're not even friends, but you still saved me."
The sorceress turned her head and remained silent for a moment.
"You travel with him." After a long while, Yennefer spoke expresslessly, "Thanks to you, he is not alone. You are his friend. He has your company."
Dandelion lowered his eyes when he heard this.
"Our friendship has done him no good. I have only caused him trouble... and he has always been busy for me."
Yennefer looked at him with a carefree gaze: "But he enjoys it. That's just the kind of person he is."
Neither Dandelion nor Yennefer explicitly stated who that "he" was, but both knew who the other was referring to.
Dandelion took a deep breath of fresh air, waved his hand and said, "Don't worry about me for now. He is in danger now. The warlock is looking for him. Yennefer, you must find him before the enemy and warn him!"
…
"Then Yennefer asked me to come to Redania, to the Oxburgh, saying that Dijkstra and Philippa were here - you may not have seen Philippa, she is another very dangerous sorceress - so that Rience should not mess around here."
Lan nodded. He estimated that Dandelion, who had been in the Bull Castle, didn't know the details of what happened to Geralt, so he took the initiative to say:
"Yennefer did find Geralt later, although she was actually called over by Triss instead of finding him herself, but they met after all - I heard that they were also a couple connected with a destiny, maybe this is fate."
After hearing Lann sort out the relationship between the people in detail, Dandelion showed an interested look: "In other words, one of them is a demon hunter and the other is a sorceress, but now they are teaching the accidental child together?"
"Let's get back to the point. We are talking about Reigns. If I find him, I will kill him so that you don't have to worry about being harassed by him in the future. I heard that he came to Niubao recently. Is that true?"
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