Chapter 336: Saving the Dryads
Brokilon Forest, a land teeming with life and vitality, unfolded before them.
But none of the three let their guard down. Even if the dryads wouldn't shoot arrows from the shadows before understanding their intentions, this forest was still far from a paradise. Like all the other forests on the continent, Brokilon hid its own share of monsters.
Geralt's gaze swept the surroundings as he asked, "Lynn, I don't understand. Why did you insist on coming to Brokilon?"
Lynn replied, "Because I need the help of Lady Eithné of the Silver Eyes."
"More help?" Mousesack said, his tone full of meaning.
Eithné of the Silver Eyes was the queen of the dryads and the ruler of Brokilon. Many legends surrounded her, but most were negative. People often compared her to a female witcher. Illiterate peasants firmly believed that on every full moon, Eithné would command her dryads to leave Brokilon, sneak into villages, and abduct human girls back to the forest. Since dryads were all female and couldn't procreate, they had to increase their numbers by transforming human girls into dryads.
But that wasn't their only method. Sometimes they would abduct human men, using the most traditional methods to continue their race. While these peasants cursed the dryads and Eithné, some bachelors who couldn't find a wife would secretly hope to be abducted by a dryad. They'd heard that aside from their green skin, the dryads were absolute perfection in face and figure, and they'd be more than willing to live in Brokilon forever.
Suddenly, Geralt, who was leading the way, stopped.
"Wait. Do you hear that?"
Geralt stopped to listen carefully.
"It's a woman's voice, but I don't understand what she's saying."
Mousesack recognized the language.
"It's Elder Speech. The woman is crying for help."
"Let's go."
Without a moment's hesitation, the three of them moved in the direction of the sound. They swiftly made their way through the forest. Since they were not ordinary humans, the obstacles of the forest didn't impede them. In just a short time, they arrived at the source of the cries.
And what they saw…
A green-skinned dryad, her body clad in leaves and tree bark, was strung up by a humanoid monster on a ritual-like rack. The rack was taller than a normal stand for an IV drip and was covered in sharp, backward-pointing hooks. Several other dryads were impaled on the hooks, all of them unconscious. Beneath them, the earth, fallen leaves, and dead branches were stained with blood. Only the dryad who had just been strung up was still conscious and screaming for help.
Hearing the commotion behind it, the humanoid monster turned around, allowing Geralt and his companions to see its true form.
How could one describe it?
It was as if a human torso had been brutally ripped in two at the waist, and a centipede's body had been crudely grafted in between. It was a truly nauseating sight.
"What in the world is that thing?"
"Whatever it is, we need to kill it and save the dryads."
The instant Geralt finished his sentence, Lynn surged forward. The glint of silver from her blade flowed from the scabbard on her back.
But before she could reach the monster, the centipede-like body between its two halves suddenly elongated. The monster's upper body shot forward like a spring, launching a rapid assault on Lynn from above. It was at this moment that Lynn understood why so many dryads had been captured by this creature.
The elves of this world were the traditional elves of Western fantasy—skilled in both melee and ranged combat. But these dryads were like the elves of Japanese fantasy: delicate beauties who could only use bows and arrows. They had agility but lacked strength, with no aptitude for close-quarters fighting. This monster, unlike the human armies they were used to fighting, was far too agile for them. Arrows were difficult to land, and once it got close, a dryad's fate was sealed. That's why the dryads had been defeated one after another.
But what was fast for a dryad was still too slow for Lynn. She easily halted her charge and rolled to the side, effortlessly dodging the monster's attack. Taking advantage of the moment the monster had just completed its headfirst dive, a moment when its old momentum was spent and new momentum hadn't been built, Lynn acted.
"Aard!"
The invisible shockwave blasted the monster's upper body, sending it flying to the other side where it smashed into a thick tree trunk before bouncing back. At that moment, the witcher was already in front of the monster, gripping her sword with both hands and swinging it with a powerful slash.
The monster's head was severed from its body, sent flying into the air.
But Lynn wasn't done. She knew some monsters could survive without their heads. So, she took a Superior Dancing Star from her runic pouch, stuffed it into the gaping neck, and quickly retreated.
A moment later, flames erupted from within the monster's body. It writhed silently on the ground, trying to extinguish the fire. But it was clearly a futile effort. Soon, the monster stopped struggling.
The three of them helped the dryads off the hooks. Mousesack quickly performed a check-up on them. Thankfully, most of the dryads, though unconscious from blood loss, still had vital signs and could be saved. This was where the druid's potions came in handy. Geralt first took clean water from his runic pouch to cleanse their wounds. Then, Mousesack took out a druid potion, pouring it onto the dryads' wounds. Finally, Geralt took out bandages to wrap them. With that, the bleeding stopped.
The dryad who had cried for help and was the only one still conscious, asked, her face pale and drained of color, "Humans, why are you in our forest?"
"First, we are not human. Second, do you have a way to alert your companions? Your wounds and those of the other dryads are quite serious. Witcher potions are highly toxic, and I can't administer them to you without care."
Lynn knew that dryads possessed healing abilities and could use their power to bring life back to plants and wounds. Even though they had administered a druid potion, these were penetrating wounds, and it would be safer to have their own companions provide further treatment.
Fortunately, the dryad they encountered wasn't a stickler for tradition. After seeing what they had done, and despite her lingering suspicion, she heeded their words. It was a good thing, unlike some Scoia'tael Lynn had heard of, who would rather bleed to death than accept help from humans. That would have been truly troublesome.
(End of Chapter)
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