Chapter 56: Hey, Follow Me into the Woods
Arthur's words hit the idlers like a thunderclap on the roof. Their eyes went wide, and beads of sweat streamed down their foreheads:
"I swear I wasn't hiding anything!"
"Master, we wouldn't dare hide anything from you!"
"I wouldn't have the guts to actively hide anything! If you ask, I'll answer truthfully!"
Arthur struggled to keep the corners of his mouth from curling into a smile. Just one sentence had reduced these men to tears and snot, making him feel like some sort of fiend.
He pulled a low-grade healing potion from his pouch and placed it on the table:
"Don't be so tense. It's just a matter of details. Answer truthfully, and you can have this bottle of wound salve."
The idlers exchanged glances and nodded in unison: "You just ask, and we'll tell you everything we know."
Arthur pointed out the window: "When I entered the village, I saw that every household was growing a lot of parsley. When did that start?"
At the mention of 'parsley,' the idlers knew they couldn't hide it. Thinking that no one outside could hear what they were saying anyway, they grit their teeth and replied:
"It started after that Rience fellow arrived!" "It was planted half a month before the monster first appeared." "Three years ago."
Just as I thought… Arthur's eyes flickered. He was almost certain of the monster's type: a Werewolf.
Like a Vampire Witch, a werewolf is a cursed creature, produced through wild wolf bites, religious rituals, or magical curses. Kolgrim's bedtime lessons had taught him that this creature possessed boundless strength and could run faster than a leopard. Even powerful Witchers like Geralt preferred to lift the curse while the person was conscious rather than simply slaying the beast.
It was worth noting that due to their extremely sensitive sense of smell, the repellent effect of parsley worked particularly well against them. However, this also made the standard method of lifting the curse spending a night wearing a parsley-lined shirt virtually impossible.
A Werewolf, huh? Arthur felt the Blade of Temeria on his back and, for the first time, felt the sense of security it provided was insufficient.
Both Kolgrim and the illustrated bestiary (which combined the knowledge of many Witchers) emphasized that this creature was virtually immune to steel and required a silver sword to inflict effective damage.
However, Kolgrim's silver sword was broken by the Griffin and had yet to be repaired by a competent blacksmith.
Tsk, tsk. The enemy was stirring up trouble from the shadows, and he lacked a powerful weapon to deal with the immediate crisis. The situation was indeed precarious!
Arthur's lips curved into a slight smile: "That Rience fellow, how often does he visit?"
Since a steel sword wouldn't do much against a werewolf, he might as well save it for Rience.
The idlers shook their heads in unison: "That gentleman has only visited twice."
Perhaps because he'd received the hardest beating, the bearded man provided the most detail: "The first time was to make everyone plant parsley. The second time was about half a month later. He was very angry then, and his palms looked like red-hot iron claws. Everyone kept their distance."
As he spoke, the bearded man involuntarily shivered: "I remember, not long after Rience came, screams started echoing through the village. I put three layers of blankets over my head, and I still couldn't block that chilling sound from boring into my mind."
Arthur pressed him: "Do you know who Rience was torturing?"
The bearded man shook his head: "That's the strange part. We figured anyone screaming like that must have been terribly injured. But we checked on each other secretly for a long time and couldn't find anyone who was hurt."
Done speaking, the bearded man looked at Arthur anxiously:
"I've told you everything I know! I hid absolutely nothing."
Arthur rubbed his brow and dismissed the surrounding sound barrier.
"You may go. Anyone who was hurt, remember to use the potion. You should be fine after a night's sleep."
He wasn't overly disappointed that he hadn't identified the werewolf given their intense regenerative abilities, trying to find it through residual wounds was practically impossible.
Seeing that Arthur not only didn't detain them but also gave them a healing potion, the idlers were overjoyed, acting like they had just struck gold, and happily departed.
Since he couldn't get any more information from the idlers, Arthur decided to try his luck with the hunter's sister.
A few minutes later, Arthur stood outside the hunter's log cabin, realizing the situation was more complex than he thought.
According to the idlers, Margareta the hunter's sister lived with Niren's family. She usually stayed home, processing the game Niren brought back and tanning hides for the lord's collector. She rarely left.
But now, through the open window, Arthur could clearly see a thick layer of dust coating the table inside. It hadn't been cleaned in days.
Did she go into the forest to chase after her brother?
Arthur felt a sudden headache. Tracking was never his strong suit.
But for the sake of the progression points a werewolf could provide, he steeled himself to try out the tracking techniques Kolgrim had taught him.
Right, first, observe for traceable footprints.
Arthur circled the cabin several times, not even sparing the parsley patch, but failed to find a single clear footprint. Since the incident with the hunter's family, many villagers had certainly visited, and the ground in front of the door was compacted dirt.
However, it wasn't a total loss: in the middle of the vegetable patch, several plants grew that looked very much like parsley, but had a completely different smell.
The Niren family is a bit careless about their gardening! Arthur muttered, but didn't dwell on it.
The leaves of those plants really did resemble parsley; if he didn't have the benefit of his Alchemist Apprentice skill, he probably wouldn't have noticed the difference.
"What are you doing at my door?"
Just as Arthur was struggling, a clear feminine voice sounded behind him.
Turning around, he saw a young woman. Her face, visible beneath a straw hat, was fair and pretty, albeit dotted with freckles from prolonged outdoor work. She carried a basket filled with mushrooms and wild herbs looped over her arm and was frowning at him.
"You must be Niren's sister, right?" Arthur extended his right hand to the girl. "I heard about your sister-in-law's tragedy. That truly is awful."
The girl looked Arthur up and down. The hostility on her face gradually faded, and she reached out to shake his hand:
"You guessed right. I'm Margareta, Niren's sister. What are you here for?"
Margareta's palm was covered in hard, rough calluses, nothing like a maiden's hand.
Arthur lowered his voice: "I'm here to deal with the monster, of course. I've heard the monster was created by the Village Chief and a sorcerer working together, correct?"
Margareta bit her lower lip, quickly glancing left and right several times, then suddenly grabbed Arthur's hand:
"It's not safe here. Follow me to the small woods!"
"Oh, ah?!"
......
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