Chapter 102: Who Isn't a Speaker of the Woods?
Dandelion's torrent of eloquence left Geralt's face shadowed with gloom, but it stoked Arthur's interest.
A stretch of primal forest, unconnected to Brokilon, was an onerous burden for Eithné that only served to dissipate her strength. But for Arthur, it was the perfect opportunity to accumulate power.
Arthur immediately transmitted this information to Groot and Jackbar via the psychic network, asking the two Treants for their thoughts on the Whispering Woods.
"Quite good."
Groot gave a brief assessment, then lapsed into silence. Then, Jackbar complained irritably:
"Just talk, why hit me!"
It seemed a certain inarticulate High-Tier Treant was looking for a mouthpiece again.
After that outburst, Jackbar didn't immediately answer Arthur's question but paused for a moment before providing the analysis:
The Whispering Woods lies south of the Chutla River, extending west to the Tukhaj Mountains. It is less than fifty miles from the nearest point of Brokilon. Although its area is less than a tenth of Brokilon's, the Whispering Woods is no less magically abundant. Furthermore, because of its proximity to the human world, the Whispering Woods has always been a hotbed of Druid activity. For Arthur, who wished to lead the dryads toward coexistence with humans, it was an excellent testing ground.
"What about Faiv? What does she say?"
With the Treants' affirmation, Arthur's confidence surged. His only remaining concern was Faiv. The little dryad had been in Brokilon since birth, living in the company of her dryad sisters. Establishing a new settlement was one thing, but leaving Brokilon entirely who knew if she could handle it?
"That's not an issue."
Facing Arthur's doubt, Groot simply said:
"Just advance both plans simultaneously."
This time, Jackbar didn't wait for Groot to act, immediately explaining:
"Groot means we don't need to rush to the Whispering Woods right now we can find a way to extend the forest over there."
Extend the forest? Arthur's first reaction was skepticism dryads and humans had shed rivers of blood protecting the forest. How could they simply extend the forest?
But he immediately understood the Treants' idea:
Humans only clear forests for farming, timber, and war. But in the north of Brokilon, at the foot of the Tukhaj Mountains, there were only scattered villages of people evading tax collectors. They would be delighted to be hidden by the forest, disappearing completely from the nobility's sight. In short, if the Treants planned to grow a forest there, the resistance would be minimal. Moreover, establishing good relations with the local mountain folk might be a good starting point for easing relations between humans and dryads.
"Proceed with your plan. If there are any issues, find me at any time."
A rare feeling of excitement surged in Arthur's heart. If the Treants successfully took up residence in the Whispering Woods, even if it didn't resolve the conflict between dryads and humans, he would at least have a foothold in this world.
He resisted the urge to immediately turn back, continuing to follow the group out of Brokilon.
The trip to Brokilon had yielded much, but the losses were also severe: first, four excellent draft horses were killed in the Elven ambush. Although they recovered one magnificent warhorse, it didn't solve their current predicament of having to travel on foot. Second, after the high-grade North Wind bomb was misused by Zoltan, Kolgrim had been restless, often staring blankly into space. Arthur had to pump him for information for a long time to learn that the raw material costs alone were hundreds of crowns.
But this was the most negligible problem a mere few hundred crowns could be easily earned in any major city. The real problem was that the bomb's destructive power was excessively out of scale. Forget hunting monsters; it was powerful enough to be used to assassinate a king Arthur needed to figure out the source of this immediately.
Arthur was about to shift his gaze from Kolgrim when he noticed the scabbard on his back.
The silver sword, broken when the griffin crushed it, was still unrepaired. Their next stop absolutely had to address that.
Speaking of swords, Arthur felt a toothache coming on. His Temerian Blade had been exposed to the extreme cold of the North Wind bomb and was now covered in fine cracks, having completely lost its metal resilience this, too, was a problem that only a professional blacksmith could fix.
As for the highly anticipated Garkain Chief, Arthur could only console himself: I haven't unlocked any new Dragon Shouts yet anyway, so killing it was just something that happened.
The sudden halt of the company startled Arthur out of his thoughts.
He looked around and realized they had already left Brokilon's boundaries. Zoltan stood at a three-way junction, asking loudly:
"Alright, lads, which way should we head next?"
"Do you even need to ask?" Dandelion pointed to the eastern fork and grinned: "Geralt still needs to take the dryads' reply back to King Venzlav, and besides, I imagine you've all started to miss the hot water and soft beds of city life!"
"That road is bad!"
Amidst the knowing chuckles of the group, Ciri suddenly spoke. Her voice was completely different from usual, carrying a distinct metallic quality:
"The cold gleam of sword and axe illuminates the path ahead; the land is soaked in blood…"
"That's terrifying!" Dandelion shivered dramatically: "Then we'd better take the western road! What a pity, though. It's still thirty miles to Verden from here!"
At the mention of 'Verden,' Ciri snapped out of her peculiar state. She shrieked, clutching Geralt's leg: "Not Verden! I don't want to go to Verden!"
She screamed for a full half minute, then saw the amused looks on everyone's faces and realized she had been made fun of. She clenched her fists angrily, but finally didn't strike anyone:
"I'm not going to Verden! I don't want to marry that ugly, fat Kistrin. Why does a princess have to marry a prince? He's even more cowardly than Dandelion!"
"Little sister, you are a princess. Of course, you can marry someone you like." Maria leaned down from the horseback, trying to comfort Ciri. But Ciri was not so easily fooled:
"My grandmother is a Queen, but she still married Ragnarr for the throne everyone said he was the most incompetent King of Cintra. "
"But your grandmother eventually found Eist, and he treated the Queen as his sun and his deity," Geralt chimed in. Arthur wondered, Has the party been this lively the whole time I was lost in thought?
"Quiet! Someone is nearby!"
Kolgrim's abrupt warning interrupted their laughter. Zoltan grabbed his axe, and Maria reached for her bow and arrows. Arthur looked left and right but found no suitable weapon, so he simply materialized two fireballs in his palms, planning to experience combat the way a mage might. This was a poor decision. Both the brightness of the fireballs and the inherent magical threat caused Arthur's perceived danger level to skyrocket in the eyes of onlookers.
"Everyone freeze, especially you, the one conjuring fireballs with both hands! Move, and I'll put a hole in your throat!"
Accompanied by a grating, reedy voice, soldiers emerged from all directions, surrounding them.
"Where do you come from, and where are you going?" a short, stout man bellowed at Kolgrim, gesturing for his men to aim more crossbows at Arthur.
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