System of the Beast Slayer [litrpg Adventure]
Copyright© 1999 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 298: Under the Eyes of Fire
After Dandelion finished speaking, the atmosphere in the room turned extremely strange. Orin’s eyes widened, envy written plainly across his face.
Priscilla curled her lip, her expression full of disgust and revulsion.
Seeing this, Roy silently mourned the bard for half a minute.
This fellow had revealed his true colors in front of Priscilla. Could he still end up with her in the future?
“I was not mistaken, Master Dandelion. You truly are a master of seduction, a wanderer of the love field...” Orin winked at the poet.
“Er...” Seeing the Witcher’s expression soften, Dandelion let out a breath and defended himself. “Pursuing inspiration is a poet’s nature, and all beautiful things can offer inspiration, including beauties. So I merely dedicate myself to art...”
“Fine. Whether your original intention is art or loving the whole world, tell me the addresses of those six beauties first, Master Dandelion.”
“I have a condition...” Under the immense pressure from the Witchers, the bard gritted his teeth and said, “The masters must first promise me that you will not use unlawful methods of interrogation on those six beauties.”
As Geralt’s close friend, the poet naturally knew of Witchers’ marvelous ways of questioning people. “Though several of them were only one-night affairs, I do not want to drag them into suffering.”
“So you do still have a little conscience,” Priscilla said sarcastically from the side, while the three Witchers agreed readily.
“Let’s do it this way. When the time comes, you lure them out,” Roy lowered his voice while paying attention to the movement around them, “and we will quietly slip into the houses to search for the map.”
The bard thought for a while, then finally nodded.
His six old flames included two serving girls working at the Golden Sturgeon and the Kingfisher, respectively, the wife of a minor noble, a tailor, a brothel madam who still retained her charm, and even a cultist of the Eternal Fire.
His tastes were varied indeed: humans, half-elves, girls as lovely as flowers, and mature women ripened through and through.
Roy looked at the bard for a long while, making the latter uncomfortable all over. “Quite the blessed man.” More popular with women than the walking pile-driver Geralt. Roy suspected Dandelion was the true chosen protagonist of this world.
The young Witcher asked himself honestly, then shook his head. Not everyone had the ability to fall in love with every person he met and handle a whole swarm of chattering women at the same time.
“Do take care of your health, Master Dandelion.” Orin patted the poet’s shoulder earnestly. The latter did not feel ashamed, but instead grew secretly pleased.
“No need to trouble yourself over that, master. There are always men born with strong needs and outstanding ability, men who enjoy being surrounded by ‘flowers and butterflies.’ I happen to be one of them.”
“Daring to flaunt your ability before Witchers. You have confidence...”
“No, no. Compared to the masters, I am probably a little lacking. After all, I have not undergone the Trial of the Grasses. That organ still belongs within the range of ordinary men.” He offered a modest line, then thickened his face and asked, “So our plan is settled, yes? When exactly do we begin? Also, I ask the masters to be generous with coin. Dates that move beautiful women require no small cost to prepare...”
The three Witchers opened their mouths, inexplicably feeling as though they had been tricked.
Priscilla covered her mouth and gave a light laugh.
“I am also very curious what the masters discussed with the steward just now.” Dandelion could not imagine what a high-ranking gang member and Witchers could possibly have to talk about.
“Bogart wanted to contract us, but we refused.”
...
The group left the Vanilla Inn.
Two hours later.
The bard in the feathered hat walked in the middle with an arrogant stride, winking at a young girl by the street whose braid hung down to her hips. The girl immediately covered her reddened pretty face and fled.
The three Witchers guarded both sides of him like bodyguards.
Behind them was a young Witcher, his gaze calm, thoughtful.
A beautiful lady with golden hair and blue eyes followed, fixedly observing the backs of the three Witchers. In her hands, she also held a pen and a roll of paper, walking slowly while writing without pause.
“Hair like raven wings, like moonlight in the night.
“In dark-gold eyes, lightning sleeps.
“His expression is like the pendant at his throat, hard as steel, cold as iron, sharper than diamond, cutting open the enemy’s artery...”
...
“I must remind you, Master Dandelion. Do not swagger through the market relying on our protection. Rein yourself in a little.”
In just two hours, the group had searched the rooms of the two serving girls from the Golden Sturgeon and the Kingfisher, as well as the madam from the “Passionflower.” Unfortunately, the thing was not with them.
As for the process, roughly, the bard used the Witchers’ money to invite the target to another room for food, conversation, and amusement.
Each time, it ended in less than ten minutes, during which he still had to ask about the map. The true time of battle was even shorter. It was completely opposite to the prodigious talent he had claimed.
Roy very much doubted how this bard had managed to seduce the duchess of Toussaint.
By his glib tongue and silver mouth?
“Do not rush.” The poet laughed dryly twice. “I feel we are getting close.”
Before long, the group reached the pink-painted house and hid in the alley. Dumbstruck, they watched an elf cross-dresser in a towering fury stand on the balcony and curse the poet for a full ten minutes with a string of filth that did not repeat a single word from beginning to end.
After his anger faded, he took the quail-like Dandelion by the arm and swept away.
The Witchers took the chance to sneak in.
They did not find the map, but they did discover an entire room of new clothes: lawyer’s robes, princess dresses, noblewomen’s attire ... Every kind of outfit was present, enough to leave one astonished.
And all of them were women’s styles.
“I never knew this fellow’s tastes were so heavy...” Priscilla’s pretty face changed color.
“Are all artists so open?” Roy admitted, the bard’s taste in women was not poor. Whether the two serving girls or the madam, all were full, fiery types. But as for men...
What in the hell was a man doing there?
“Orin, why are you stealing someone’s short skirt? Where did you hide it?” Kael seemed to have discovered something remarkable and shouted it out in broad daylight.
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