bookbashuk Chapter 85 Rescue Dandelion
Chapter 85 Rescue Dandelion
Chapter 86 Rescue Dandelion (4000 words)
At dawn, in the Kingfisher Tavern, sunlight streamed through the lobby, casting dappled patterns of light.
Erwin stood in the center of the hall, holding a whiteboard and pen. Beside him were seven or eight burly dwarves wearing aprons covered in sawdust, listening attentively to his explanation.
"This area needs to be widened and expanded to accommodate stage performances," Erwin circled on the blueprints. "The ceiling needs to be redesigned to better match the tavern's elegant style."
Ron came down from the second floor and raised an eyebrow. "Erwin, what are you busy with?"
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Erwin looked up. "Good morning, Ron. I'm planning the tavern's renovation. The promotion of blackberry mead needs a more fitting atmosphere. Although the original decor is nice, it feels like it's lacking something special."
Erwin pointed to the dwarves who were taking measurements. "In addition to the main tavern, the expansion of the underground wine cellar is also underway, and that part is being done using workers from our own territory."
"Regarding the dwarven demolition master you mentioned, I've already sent someone to make contact. Based on the salary standards you mentioned, we should get a response soon."
Just then, a clear voice came from the direction of the stage, "Oh right, this needs some more adjustment. Be careful not to tear the curtain!"
Priscilla was standing in the center of the stage, one hand on her hip, pointing at the workers who were hanging up the curtain.
Workers are hanging up the new backdrop decorations, and two rows of brass oil lamps have been added to both sides of the stage. The brass lampshades are polished to a shine, making it much more impressive than the original.
Ron looked around, then turned to Erwin with a hint of doubt. "Even the stage needs to be rearranged?"
"Ms. Priscilla brought it up herself. She said that a stage is an essential element for a high-end tavern that can attract nobles and wealthy merchants. She plans to hold poetry appreciation and music salons regularly to make Kingfisher a cultural landmark in Novigrad. Moreover, she herself has a good reputation and can promote the opening of the tavern."
Priscilla jumped off the stage. "Mr. Ron, for your wine to make a name for itself in aristocratic circles, taste alone is not enough. We need to create a new experience. Imagine guests sipping mead while enjoying a meticulously crafted play and discussing the latest art trends. That's the kind of social occasion they're willing to pay for."
Ron's lips twitched, but he didn't respond. Just then, the tavern door opened, and Geralt walked in, covered in dust and looking slightly tired, but his eyes were still sharp.
His gaze lingered on the workers for a moment before landing on Ron, whereupon he nodded in greeting.
"You're back," Ron said, holding two glasses of mead, placing one in front of Geralt. "Is the beef burger matter settled?"
Geralt pulled out a chair, sat down, picked up his glass, downed half of it in one gulp, wiped his mouth, and said, "There have been gains and troubles. Let's go upstairs and talk."
The group went up to the second-floor room. Triss also arrived, leaning against the window with her long red hair falling over her shoulders, while Geralt leaned back in his chair.
Ron spoke first, "We've found out about Dandelion. Reuven has extracted all the information from Mange. Dandelion is currently imprisoned on Temple Island and is still alive. Mange originally planned to send him to Cowburg for execution, but we captured him before we could carry it out."
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Geralt nodded and poured himself a glass of water. "I went to the Blue Iron Guard's guerrilla stronghold and met Roche. He agreed to help and take me to see Redania's informant."
He paused, a wry smile playing on his lips, and looked at Ron. "Ron, you'll never guess who this informant is."
"Oh?" Ron raised an eyebrow. "Who is it?"
Radovide V
Ron picked up his glass, took a sip, and set it down. "Oh, that's quite unexpected. So, how did you two discuss it?"
Geralt put down his water glass, his eyes becoming deep. "He didn't make any demands at the time. Instead, he revealed Hawthorne II's residence to me first. Hawthorne II was no longer of any use to him. I guess Radovid thought it would be easier to get rid of Hawthorne through the Witcher than to dirty his own sword."
I found his hideout and broke in. You can't imagine the horrific scene inside. That guy was a complete scumbag. The room was filled with the corpses of prostitutes he had tortured to death. After getting the information, I couldn't hold back and sent him straight to meet his dead father.
He took a deep breath and lowered his voice even further.
"Regarding Ciri and Dandelion, they once asked Hawthorne to help repair a magical artifact. Hawthorne's condition was that they obtain Reuven's treasure. This is why Dandelion and Dudu planned the treasure heist. The heist failed, and the treasure was stolen by Mange. Enraged, Hawthorne kidnapped Dudu and tortured him to extract a confession. Later, Ciri rescued Dudu, who is now probably hiding somewhere in this city."
Ron nodded. "Hmm, that makes sense. So what are you planning to do next? Dandelion is imprisoned on Temple Island, a heavily guarded place. Of course, if I send in an army, I could definitely take it, but that would have too much of an impact; it would be tantamount to me declaring war on Radovid."
"That's definitely not the way to go. This time we need to outsmart them," Geralt said, leaning forward slightly.
"My plan is to find Dudu first. Dudu is a shapeshifter who can transform into anyone. Mange is currently being held captive by Dixter. We can find Dudu, have him transform into Mange, and order Dandelion to be sent to Cowburg. We'll intercept the escort team halfway and rescue Dandelion. After all, Mange's plan was to send Dandelion to Cowburg for execution, so this won't arouse suspicion."
“But there’s a problem,” Ron frowned. “Dudu has already gone into hiding. Are you trying to find a shapeshifter hiding in Novigrad, a city of over 30,000 people?”
Priscilla walked to the table and lightly ran her fingers across the surface.
"I have an idea. I can write a play about shapeshifters. Dudu loves watching plays, and he certainly won't miss a stage play about his own kind."
When Geralt appears at the theater, Dudu will definitely notice him.
She paused, a smile playing on her lips. "Of course, the safest option is for Geralt to go on stage and perform directly."
Geralt was stunned. "...Me?"
Priscilla nodded firmly. "Yes, it's you. I believe you."
That evening, the Irina Theatre was packed to capacity, with people even standing in the aisles. A huge banner hung on the stage, announcing that "The Redemption of the Shapeshifter" was being presented jointly by the Kingfisher Tavern and the Irina Theatre Company.
Ron sat in the front row of the audience, next to Erwin and Priscilla. He tried to keep a straight face, but his eyes were brimming with barely suppressed laughter. Priscilla nervously rubbed her hands together beside him, hoping everything would go well.
The stage lights came on, and Geralt walked out in an ill-fitting costume, his steps stiff. The audience below burst into laughter, and some whistled.
Puscella nervously gestured with famous hand signs from the side of the stage, guiding Geralt to the correct position. A hint of helplessness flashed across Geralt's face, but he still began according to the script.
At the climax of the performance, Geralt's keen eyes swept across the audience and landed on a person standing in the back row. The person was wearing a temple guard uniform, was thin, and had an uneasy look in their eyes.
Geralt stepped down from the stage, and the audience automatically made way for him, assuming it was part of the performance. He walked up to the temple guard and extended his hand. "You, come up on stage and help."
The man hesitated for a moment, then followed Geralt onto the stage under the watchful eyes of the entire audience. Geralt whispered a few words in his ear, and the man's eyes suddenly widened. He slowly nodded, and the performance came to a successful end, with the entire audience standing up and applauding.
Ron, struggling to suppress a laugh, said to Erwin, "I have never seen Geralt so...so artistic."
Erwin adjusted his glasses. "His delivery of lines is far inferior to his swordsmanship, but for a Witcher making his debut, it's probably... passable."
In the theater dressing room, Geralt leaned against the dressing table, Priscilla leaned against the door frame, and Ron sat on a low stool next to them.
The temple guard, who had just been dragged onto the stage by Geralt, stood in a corner, his figure slowly shrinking under the lights, turning into a half-human figure, his hands nervously rubbing together.
"Ron, this is Dudu, one of my most trusted friends."
Geralt explained to Ron, "Don't be fooled by his appearance. Dudu is not only successful in business, but he also has investments in the financial markets of Temeria. It's just that the unexpected war disrupted his plans. It's not a matter of his ability."
Ron looked at Dudu and nodded. "It's no easy feat to gain a foothold in a city like Novigrad."
"Dudu is a trustworthy partner. He has helped me and Ciri countless times. This plan to rescue Dandelion requires his special abilities."
Dudu grinned. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ron. Geralt has already told me about his plans. I've studied Mange's physique and appearance; there are no problems."
"First, Dudu will transform into Mange's appearance and order Dandelion to be escorted to Cowburg," Geralt began.
Ron added, "Yes, my army will lie in ambush at the designated location, disguised as bandits."
Dudu continued, "I'll make sure the escort team's route passes through the designated location. I remember the terrain around the old mill is perfect for an ambush."
After quickly finalizing the plan, Ron turned his attention back to Dudu.
"Dudu, Geralt says you have a good business sense, and my territory is expanding and needs a shrewd agent to handle my various businesses in Novigrad. You are Geralt's friend, so I am naturally willing to trust you."
So, are you interested in this job? If you accept this job, you will receive my support, and you can also provide help and shelter to your fellow shapeshifters in the city.
A look of surprise flashed in Dudu's eyes. "Really? Oh... I mean, of course I'd love to."
"We'll discuss this in more detail after we rescue Dandelion."
Jerome nodded. "That's perfect. Dudu can not only carry out special missions when necessary, but his business acumen can help you build a vast trading network. I have no doubt about his talent in business."
Ron nodded. "Yeah, by the way, Geralt, your performance... was actually pretty good."
Geralt shook his head helplessly. "Never make me do this again."
Ron chuckled and patted him on the shoulder: "Don't say that, Geralt. You gave the audience in Novigrad an unforgettable performance tonight."
Several days later, near the road leading from Novigrad to Cowburg.
Ron stood behind the broken window of the mill. Thirty regular soldiers were spread out in the ambush positions around the mill. Ten crossbowmen occupied the high ground beside the road, their crossbows cocked. The rest of the heavy infantry lay in ambush in the grass on both sides, their spears laid flat.
The soldiers had set up tripwires at both ends of the road to the old mill beforehand, and the wagons disguised as caravans were parked in the back warehouse of the mill, carrying medical supplies and spare weapons.
Geralt stood beside him, saying nothing.
The sound of the carriages getting closer and closer was accompanied by four mounted guards at the front, dressed in the distinctive brown leather armor of witch hunters. In the middle was a closed prison wagon with riveted iron panels, and two crossbowmen sat on the roof with their crossbows on their knees.
Behind them were two mounted guards, and at the very front of the procession was Manji, riding a gray horse, his uniform impeccable, his expression cold and hard.
"It's Dudu," Geralt whispered.
Ron nodded, and as the convoy approached the old mill, a muffled groan came from inside the carriage.
Dudu raised his right hand and gestured, "Take a break, let the prisoner have some water, don't let him die on the way."
The procession stopped in the open space in front of the mill. The guards dismounted, and Dudu dismounted as well. He took a few steps toward the mill without making a sound, creating some distance between them.
Ron raised his left hand and made a brief gesture, at which point the crossbowmen simultaneously raised their crossbows.
A guard walked toward the back door of the prison cart. Ron pressed his hand down sharply, and ten crossbow bolts were fired at the same time. The throats of the two crossbowmen on the roof were pierced at the same time, and they fell down before they could even touch the crossbow.
Geralt sprang from the roadside bushes, stepped onto the wheels of the prison wagon, used his knees to brace against the side wall of the wagon, and flipped himself onto the roof. He then grabbed the crossbow and fired an arrow at the witch hunter who was trying to approach.
The ambushing heavy infantry squads attacked simultaneously, closing in from all sides, deploying a gun and shield formation. A witch hunter, who had just drawn her sword, was pierced through the chest by a spear before she could even get close.
The battle ended quickly in a short time. All the witch hunters were killed on the spot. The back door of the prison cart was kicked open, and Geralt helped a person out. It was Dandelion, whose hair was a mess and whose face was bruised and battered, but he still had the strength to speak.
"Geralt? You're here! I knew you'd come to save me. Those witch hunters have kept me locked up for days, and they haven't given me a decent meal. The food in that godforsaken place is worse than toad legs in the swamp..."
He shifted his gaze from Geralt, swept it across the surrounding soldiers, and landed on Ron. "Is this your new friend?"
Ron nodded at him, and Dandelion, being helped by Geralt, walked toward the supply wagon behind the mill, still muttering to himself.
Geralt tells Dandelion, "Priscilla is waiting for you. She said if you dare to disappear again, she'll come looking for you with a dagger."
Dandelion's eyes suddenly lit up, and he reached out to grab Geralt's wrist. "Priscilla? She's here too? How is she? I mean... she said she was going to put on a poetry reading, and I promised to write her a new sonnet."
"She's at the Kingfisher Tavern. Go ask her yourself later," Geralt said, shaking off his hand.
At this moment, Dudu strode over, having transformed back into the halfling Dandy. "My lord, all traces have been disposed of, and the corpses have all been burned with oil."
Ron nodded. "Well done, now evacuate according to plan."
Produce