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Chapter 159: Herb Planting

Viktor crunched his boots over the carpet of fallen leaves and brittle twigs, each step a crackle that seemed to disturb the forest’s quiet.

The woods smelled rich: damp earth, sharp pine, a faint sweetness drifting in from somewhere beyond his sight. Sunlight slanted down through the canopy in long, golden shafts, catching motes of dust that danced lazily in the air.

Somewhere ahead, Mandragora’s hut was waiting.

And when he finally caught sight of it through the trees, he couldn’t help but chuckle. After all, it had been absurdly squeezed into the narrow space between several trunks, pressed so tight into their embrace that it looked less like a structure built by human hands and more like some fungus that happened to grow there.

The thing’s walls were crooked. Its thatched roof sagged in places, patched with layers of leafy branches that blended it further into its surroundings. Under the eaves, small, rounded windows peered outward, their shapes uneven.

“Couldn’t she just cut down a couple of trees instead of doing, well, whatever this is supposed to be?” Viktor asked.

“I told you, didn’t I?” Renee replied, glancing at him. “She doesn’t like felling trees unless she absolutely has to.”

Ah yes, of course. Druidesses were tree-huggers, through and through. Why bother clearing the land and shaping it to your needs when you could just bend yourself around it instead?

“Then why didn’t she build a treehouse up there? At least that way she’d get some fresh air and still live properly among the branches.”

“Well... I don’t know. I never thought to ask.”

His amusement lingered as he stepped closer to the hut, careful not to trip over the protruding roots. The trees around the building stood thick, but their branches had been trimmed back just enough to let the light spill through in broad, shimmering patches. And beneath that carefully managed canopy, the forest floor was bare, cleared of undergrowth and debris. The tilled soil looked rich and inviting, ready for seeds to be sown.

A soft rustle announced Mandragora before she fully appeared. The Druidess emerged, stepping out of the hut with a serenity that made her seem almost part of the forest itself. She was tall and poised, carrying a small basket with her tattooed left arm. Her raven hair fell loose around her shoulders, while her eyes—a piercing, sharp green—found his instantly, measuring, assessing.

Well yes, this was the cautious one of Ekon’s little band, the opposite of the bubbly girl who had led him here without asking any questions. Also, it looked like she was quite close to that bald man, so if he wanted to go anywhere near him, he would need to gain her trust first.

“Quinn, huh?” She walked toward him, softening her gaze with a polite smile. “Renee told me that you were interested in planting herbs?”

“Actually, I’m more curious about how a Druidess brews her potions,” Viktor said, and it was not really a lie. “But, of course, I wouldn’t mind helping you with the planting.”

Mandragora’s laugh was soft and melodic. “So you’re just like Fiora,” she said, a spark of amusement in her eyes. “Well, while I can’t really reveal the secrets of my Circle, sharing a few elementary techniques shouldn’t be a problem.”

Fiora?

That was when Viktor saw another figure that came out of the hut. She was a short girl with long, curly auburn hair. And someone he knew.

“Ah, Quinn,” she said, her voice carrying a note of surprise that mirrored his own.

So this is the other helper Renee has mentioned, huh? To think it would be a member of Cedric’s party.

After their disastrous encounter with the gnolls, the whole group had stopped showing up, neither in his dungeon, nor at the Guild. The last time he saw Lucian, the boy was attempting suicide by fishing, before a certain green man talked him into murdering trees with rocks instead. And now Fiora... had apparently developed a sudden urge to become a tree-hugger. That gnoll encounter was really a life-changing experience, wasn’t it?

“Long time no see,” Viktor said with a smile. “Haven’t seen you guys for a while. How’s Cedric doing?”

Even though he had shared the table with her party so many times before, he usually only spoke with Cedric or Lucian. In fact, he couldn’t recall a single instance where he and this girl had a direct conversation.

“Well, he’s... fine...”

Still not much of a talker, huh? Viktor wouldn’t say she was shy, but she rarely engaged with anyone outside of her own group. Which made her presence here all the more curious. Why did she come all this way just to help some stranger plant herbs in the middle of nowhere? Was it because, just as Mandragora had said, she wanted to learn how to brew magical potions?

“So you two know each other?” the tattooed woman asked, her sharp green gaze studying them in turn.

“Yes,” Viktor replied. “I’ve met her and her friends many times before at the Guild. Haven’t seen them lately, though.”

“I see.” Mandragora nodded. “Well then, we may as well begin. Quinn, would you prefer I show you how to do it, or would you rather follow Renee?”

Viktor shrugged. “You are the Druidess. I think it’s only proper I follow your lead.”

Mandragora let out a soft chuckle. “Alright then.”

And so they began.

Renee and Fiora grabbed their seedlings and got straight to work, hands moving with the confidence of people who had already been told what to do. Viktor, on the other hand, remained by Mandragora’s side, watching carefully.

The woman knelt down by the prepared patch of earth, her fingers brushing over the surface. She pressed a tiny seedling into the soil, cupping the dirt around it, patting it gently while whispering something that sounded almost like a lullaby to the plant. There was something... intimate in the way she moved. It was as if she were caring for a child instead of simply planting a bit of greenery.

Viktor arched a brow.

Was there any magic involved in the process? Some sort of rituals, perhaps? Or was it just a Druidess being a Druidess, talking to plants like it was the most natural thing in the world?

He glanced over at the two girls. They were working in silence, without whispering, or singing, or any theatrical nonsense. Well, that answered the questions.

“Here,” Mandragora said, holding out a seedling to him. “Place it gently into the earth. Not too deep. Feel it, and treat it like it has a heartbeat.”

Viktor stared at the thing in his hand.

A heartbeat. Of course. Perfectly reasonable.

Resisting the urge to ask where exactly one could find a pulse on a plant, he crouched down and did as instructed, mimicking her earlier movements. Well, it was pretty simple and straightforward actually, once he had tuned out the weird parts.

“Good job,” Mandragora said. “You already know what you’re doing. You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

Viktor gave a shrug. “I’ve got a small garden at home. My sisters and I plant a few things now and then.”

“Good,” Mandragora said with an approving tone. “Then we won’t have to start from square one.”

With that, they got on with the work.

It was nothing grand. Only dirt and hands and a quiet, repetitive job. The forest remained still around them; the only sound Viktor could consistently make out was the occasional lullaby that Mandragora murmured as she tended to her “children.”

“So, how did you guys end up together?” he asked, breaking the silence with a tone that carried a casual curiosity.

He didn’t look up; his hands kept moving. After all, he was not trying to gather information, of course not. Just merely making an attempt at small talk.

“Who?” Renee asked. “Our party?”

“Yes,” Viktor said. “From what I’ve seen, you’re not exactly from the same corner of the world. You and Mandragora are from the West, Ba’atar is from the East, and Ekon is from the South. That’s... a very wide spread. How on earth did you even end up meeting each other?”

Renee laughed. “Well, I suppose it does sound a bit strange when you put it like that. For me, it was simple enough. I’d just finished my studies under my master and wanted to set out to see the world. When I heard there was a new dungeon here, I figured that was as good a destination as any. I ran into Ekon and Mandragora at an inn on the way. We got to talking and, I don’t know, we just got along, I guess. So we decided to travel together and see where things went. As for Ba’atar, we met him just outside Daelin. Turned out that he was an old acquaintance of Ekon, so inviting him into the party just made sense.”

So, the girl was the newcomer, while the other two had already had some history with that bald man.

Viktor turned to Mandragora. “You and Ekon go back a long way, then?”

And she responded with a small shrug. “Not very long. Less than a year.”

“They’ve told me about it,” Renee said. “Apparently, one day she found him in the forest where her Circle is located. He was unconscious, and badly injured. She took him in, treated his injuries, and stayed with him until he recovered.”

“Really?” Viktor asked the Druidess. “What happened to him?”

“He got himself into some trouble. Upset the wrong people. Lost a fight he shouldn’t have picked. He ran, and ended up in my forest.”

Ekon’s enemies, huh? Viktor couldn’t help but think of the men from Iskora, those the bald man had instructed Renee to follow.

“Who were they?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Mandragora replied. “He didn’t tell me, and I didn’t want to pry.”

Or maybe he did tell you, but you didn’t want to tell me. Still, he decided to drop that line of questioning; pressing further could risk her growing suspicious.

“Anyway, enough about my party. Let’s talk about something else,” Mandragora said. She tilted her head slightly, her green eyes now resting on Fiora.

“Me? Well... everyone in my party is from the same city. We’ve known each other since forever, so... I don’t really know what there is to say.”

“Yes, I already know that.” Mandragora smiled. “But there’s something else, right? Something very interesting. I heard that your party found the dungeon on your very first day in Daelin. I’m very curious. How did you manage that?”

What?

Of all things she could possibly ask, she wanted to know about that?