One of them wore a strange purple hat with a silver buckle and a long egret feather that fell over his eyes. Geralt recognized that hat and that feather; they were famous in Buina and Eruga, in every mansion, castle, inn, tavern, and brothel—especially the brothels.

"Dandelion, why are you here?"

"Geralt!"

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

Geralt didn't answer the question, but frowned at his poet classmate and asked: "When we separated in Vizima a month and a half ago, didn't you say you were going to Ossenfurt College?"

"This place is hundreds of miles away from the academy. Why are you here?"

The poet was about to explain when he saw Yennefer coming out of the tent. She seemed to understand something immediately. She bowed to the beautiful sorceress and then raised her head to wink at Geralt and said:

"Oh my god, Geralt, I know why you are here."

"Have you reconciled? Did you sleep together last night? Has Lady Yennefer forgiven you?"

Hearing these three questions, Yennefer looked at Dandelion expressionlessly, raised her finger slightly, and the poet covered his throat and began to cough violently.

The sorceress glared at Geralt, then walked away with graceful steps, heading towards the king's tent.

Dandelion's complexion did not improve until the sorceress left. He then walked to Geralt with lingering fear, patted his shoulder, looked at him with sympathy, and said, "Lady Yennefer is still so strong-willed. Sorceresses are really not something that ordinary people can stand. Only you witchers can bear their love, just like Wayne."

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

Geralt looked at Dandelion, who was unrepentant and talking nonsense, with a painful look on his face.

Thinking back to last night when Yennefer turned him into a guard dog and he had to stay in the tent for the whole night, he knew that he must not let the poet know about this, otherwise he would be laughed at by him for a whole year, or even several years.

So he quickly changed the subject and asked, "You haven't told me yet why you are not in the academy but in Holobel."

Speaking of this, Dandelion raised his head with pride, raised his mustache and said:

"Don't you see who I am? I am the most talented bard and poet of this century. It took me less than a month to complete all my studies for the first half of the year, get the credits, and then start my creative journey again."

"A week ago, I heard the news and rushed to Holober. I was going to set out with the king and record the entire story of this dragon hunt, compile it into a poem that will be passed down through the ages, and let the beautiful girls sing it for me."

"But I didn't expect that a beautiful young widow found me the day before I set out and asked me to help her solve her problem. When I woke up from her bed the next day, the sun had already started to set."

"That widow was so enthusiastic that I missed the meeting with the king. The young king didn't wait for me, and when I wanted to rush over by myself, I was stopped by the soldier outside the bridge. He said I couldn't pass without a pass."

At this point, Dandelion shook his head and said in a tone that the other party was very ignorant: "What a fool! He almost made the greatest poet of this century miss this dragon-slaying event. Is this kind of character the kind of difficult little devil that appears in every story?"

Listening to his poet classmate talking a lot of nonsense, Geralt looked helpless, but there was nothing he could do. Dandelion was just that kind of person. His mouth was his weapon, and once he started, he couldn't stop.

But Geralt didn't hate this feeling. For an unpopular person like him, it felt good to have a friend like Dandelion who was full of enthusiasm.

"You are, then, fully acquainted with the whole matter?"

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

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

Dandelion raised his eyebrows, laughed, patted his chest and said:

"Don't you see who I am? I am a great poet and bard. As long as there is any major event in the Northern Kingdom, I will rush there as soon as possible."

“And every major event will become my work, accompanied by my singing, and spread my fame to everyone’s ears.”

Geralt couldn't stand Dandelion's nonsense anymore. He patted his poet classmate on the shoulder and said:

"Hurry up and get down to business, stop talking nonsense."

Seeing that Geralt was getting impatient, Dandelion gave up the idea of ​​playing the lute and 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 swooped down on the shepherd's flock from the air, scared the shepherd away, ate four sheep, killed several more, and flew away with the corpses of several sheep."

"It flew away..."

Geralt nodded.

"That's it? Then what?"

"Of course not."

"The next morning it came back again, this time even closer to the city. It swooped down on the washerwomen on the banks of the Bra River. My friends, they fled in terror! I have never seen anything so funny in my life. The dragon circled twice over Holopor and then flew off to attack the sheep in the nearby pastures."

"What panic and confusion it caused! You know, no one even believed the shepherd's words the day before... The mayor began to mobilize the city's militia and guilds, but before he could organize the men, the people solved the matter on their own."

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

"It was a very common method. A shoemaker named Kozoyed came up with a plan. They slaughtered a sheep and stuffed the sheep's stomach with dodder, nightshade, hemlock, sulfur and shoemaker's resin. To be on the safe side, the local pharmacist also added two quarts of boiling water on his own initiative, and then asked the priest of the Cliff Temple to bless the offering."

"Then they tied the sheep to a stake and put it in the flock. To be honest, no one believed that the dragon would choose this stinking dead sheep among a thousand sheep, but the result was beyond everyone's expectations. The other sheep were alive and well, but this one was swallowed up along with the stake."

Dandelion described it in great detail, perhaps he had witnessed the incident himself.

"It wasn't long before the dragon began to roar and smoke came out of its mouth and buttocks. Then it rolled over and tried to fly away but fell down and was motionless."

"Two men volunteered to run over and test whether it was still breathing. One of them was a local gravedigger and the other was a village idiot."

"We later built a small but very beautiful tomb for them."

Geralt knew that the green dragon was still alive, otherwise the current dragon hunting team would not have been established.

"So, the green dragon is playing dead?"

"That's right."

Dandelion answered cheerfully, "It was still alive, but too weak to devour the gravedigger and the idiot. It drank their blood and then took flight... albeit with great difficulty, but it still worried everyone. Every time the dragon flapped a cubit or two, it would fall with a roar and take off again. Sometimes it could only crawl forward on its hind legs. The braver ones followed not far behind, keeping it in sight. You will never imagine what happened next."

"The dragon leaped into a ravine in the Great Kestrel 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 gathered here. The treasure in the dragon's lair has always been a legend known to everyone. Every adventurer, farmer, noble, and even the king has heard such a story.

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

"That's right." The bard nodded. "All of Holopor was in an uproar. They felt that the dragon's treasure was theirs, but they didn't dare to confront Niedamir. The king was a young fool with hair just starting to grow on his face, but he knew how to command respect. Niedamir wanted the dragon more than anything else, and that's why he acted so quickly."

Geralt frowned when he heard this, looked back at the magnificent king's tent, and asked in confusion:

"I don't think a king would go to such great lengths to slay a dragon in person just for an illusory treasure!"

"Any other reasons?"

Dandelion smiled proudly. As a famous poet, he knew more than ordinary people.

"I believe that he is more interested in dragons than treasure. After all, Niedamir has been coveting the Principality of Maliur for a long time. After the prince of the principality died mysteriously, only a princess who was of marriageable age was left. But the powerful class of the Principality of Maliur did not look favorably upon Niedamir and other suitors."

"Because they know that the new ruler will definitely reduce their power, and the young princess is too soft-hearted to deal with this situation. For this reason, the ministers in the court dug out an old prophecy book that was covered in dust. It said that the crown and the princess's hand would only belong to the one who conquered the dragon. They believed that this would maintain the status quo, because no one had seen dragons in the surrounding areas for a long time."

"Niedamir didn't care about the prophecy at all. He tried every means to conquer the Principality of Maliur by force, but the news that a dragon appeared in Holopor reached him, and he realized that this was a good opportunity to make the Maliur nobles speechless."

"If he could return to Maliur with the dragon's head, people would welcome him like a king sent by the gods, and the nobles would no longer have any complaints."

"So, he will definitely try to find the dragon like a cat trying to catch a mouse. Besides, the dragon can hardly even crawl now. For Niedamir, this is a godsend, fate is smiling at him. Damn it."

After listening to Dandelion's explanation, Geralt couldn't help but frown and let out a breath. This matter was indeed related to politics, and it was about the fight for the throne.

This kind of thing always happens on the northern continent every few years. The nobles start a war for power, then abandon dozens of peasants' corpses, leave behind a group of orphans and widows, and then attract a group of monsters.

Geralt has become numb to such things.

He waved to Dandelion. Now that Yennefer had gone to meet the king, his guards were no longer needed. He planned to take his poet classmate to the tent for a drink.

That was the sorceress's wine.

But Yennefer has never been stingy with these material things, so drinking one or two bottles should be no problem.

At this moment, the king's tent was opened from the inside, and a tall and arrogant man dressed as a warrior, wearing a purple velvet tunic and a short jacket decorated with black sable fur, was driven out.

He was still shouting:

"The dragon is an endangered species. Killing it will only bring disaster to us. Countless examples have proven this."

"As a king, you should understand this principle better and not destroy the balance of nature for your own benefit."

Looking at this man in luxurious clothes who was driven out by the guards, Geralt raised his eyebrows and asked Dandelion, "Who is this guy? The balance of nature, is he a follower of a druid?"

The poet shook his head mysteriously, chuckled, and said, "This is the magician, Master Dorrigare. It is because of his help that I can come here without a pass."

(End of this chapter)