"So sour! No wonder the owner told us to drink it slowly."
Seeing Dick's embarrassment, Xiya couldn't help covering her mouth and laughing again.
After that, the two chatted about this and that, and Xiya never brought up the earlier subject again.
Dick secretly breathed a sigh of relief as well. There were no disagreements between them at present, so the coming mission should go smoothly.
Right now, his mind held nothing but monsters, commissions, and Energy Points. Surviving in this world came first.
As for everything else, that could wait!
A little while later, they finished their meal, and Dick walked over to the vendor, ready to pay.
The vendor hurriedly waved his hands. "Master Dick, this meal is free."
"Free? Are you letting me dine and dash? Owners like you are hard to come by," Dick teased.
The body's original owner had often forced the vendor to serve him food and drink for nothing, and after Dick's soul transmigrated here, he hadn't directly paid off the original owner's outstanding bills either.
After all, someone else had caused that trouble.
Of course, every time Dick ate here, he gave the vendor a little extra as compensation.
"Yes-ah, no, that's not what I meant. I'm not charging for this meal because those Jatu are coming. Ah..." By the end, the vendor had buried his head in his hands, his expression pained.
"I was once a refugee from the Bacchus Empire. My whole family crossed the outskirts of Noldor Forest and the Jatu Great Plains, but in the end, the rest of my family were still captured and tortured to death by Jatu Ghouls.
"I came here all alone, and I'd only had a few good years before those damned demons came knocking again. I hope you and Miss Xiya can defend Odinburg when the time comes, Master Dick.
"Only with full bellies will you have the strength to fight those Jatu Demons.
"As for this meal, just consider it..."
The vendor looked at Dick and ventured cautiously, "How about considering it my payment for commissioning you to defend the city?"
Dick smiled easily. "Sure. Just stay home and put your mind at ease. Once it's over, I'll still be coming here for breakfast every day."
"Yes, your cooking is really good. Apart from the wild grape juice being a little too sour on the teeth. Improve that, and I'll come eat here with Dick again next time." Xiya looked at Dick.
He nodded. "Next time, put a little more honey in the juice."
"All right, got it. I'll make sure you're both satisfied next time." The vendor beamed.
With that, the two pushed open the door and left.
The vendor called after them, "Take care, Master Dick, Miss Xiya."
They reached the intersection again, and the apprentice sorceress lifted her head. "Dick, I'll head back first, then."
"No, I'm coming back with you."
Xiya tilted her head and looked at Dick, her face full of questions.
Some time later, in a brightly lit laboratory.
"Dick, you've improved so much. Yes, that's it, move your hands a little faster. Yes, faster still.
"You're much better at grinding ingredients than last time. With you being so capable, I feel comfortable all over."
The corner of Dick's mouth twitched. Ever since he had rescued Xiya, she seemed to have become much friendlier toward him.
Still, his hands didn't stop. Only after he had finally ground the ingredients for several more bottles of Swallow Potion, carefully mixed them in the proper proportions, and put the finished products into his potion pouch did he look at the apprentice sorceress.
"Xiya, how's your Dimeritium Bomb coming along?"
"I can only mix it slowly. The dandelion is almost stirred now. Next, I need to blend these ingredients together in the right proportions.
"By the way, Dick, this Stammelford's Dust and the finest base preparation are expensive. You owe me a big favor. How about trading the fat and glands from that Cockatrice you hunted for them?"
"Of course."
Dick nodded seriously. He knew that however valuable the Cockatrice materials were, they couldn't compare to a Dimeritium Bomb that cost around a hundred Kelang to make.
Xiya had merely found an excuse to help him.
As for why Xiya was doing it herself rather than letting Dick do it, that was simply because he hadn't yet grasped the basics of making Magic Bombs.
And this Dimeritium Bomb was both expensive and dangerous. The slightest careless imbalance in the proportions could damage a great many things in the workshop.
"Come to think of it, Dick, why did you ask me to help make a Dimeritium Bomb?
"You know we're going to be facing the Jatu army. At most, this bomb will work on the priests among the Jatu. Using it against anyone else would be a complete waste of its spell-silencing effect."
Dick considered for a moment. "I keep feeling that what comes next won't be so simple. More preparation is still necessary."
"All right, we'll do as you say." Wearing special gloves, Xiya scooped up a spoonful of pale yellow granules with a metallic sheen and slowly tipped them into a beaker before letting out a light breath.
"This Stammelford's Dust is the core substance of a Dimeritium Bomb. If I touch even a little, I won't be able to communicate with the magical elements in the air. It really is dangerous for sorcerers.
"They say the authorities use Dimeritium handcuffs against sorcerers who've fallen into evil ways. Dick, do you know what the core element in those handcuffs is?"
"Stammelford's Dust?"
"That's right. So clever."
Xiya sounded as though she were coaxing a child, leaving Dick rather speechless, but considering the work she was putting in...
Hmm... worth it!
"Sometimes, I really envy you witchers," the apprentice sorceress said as she worked with the equipment.
"Envy us? Why?"
"Although witchers can't communicate directly with the magical energy in the air, your bodies slowly absorb those mischievous magical elements, which then hide within your organs.
"That means you don't have to fear Dimeritium Bombs or Dimeritium handcuffs.
"Unlike us sorcerers. Our bodies can't store mana directly. If we lose the ability to communicate with the magical energy in the air, we become as frail as ordinary people."
"But we witchers are inherently short on mana. We can only use Signs that are a little stronger than your sorcerers' cantrips."
"Dick, a greedy snake tries to swallow an elephant. Witchers have physical abilities beyond ordinary people, and you're still not satisfied?
"Besides, sorcerers' spells are powerful, but our physical abilities are average. Once a skilled warrior gets close, we're basically doomed.
"That's why some people call us sorcerers siege crossbows made of glass. Tremendously powerful, but we shatter at a touch."
"When you put it that way, being a witcher really isn't bad." Dick rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"Don't get too pleased with yourself, Dick. I'm about to start mixing the ingredients in earnest now. I'd suggest you head back first." Xiya chuckled.
"It takes a long time to prepare a Dimeritium Bomb. I'll bring it over tomorrow morning. If I work quickly, bringing it over in the early hours tonight isn't out of the question either."
"Thank you, then."
After being captured, Xiya had traveled all that way. Although she had eaten now, she hadn't rested, and her eyes were already a little bloodshot. Yet she was still making a bomb for him.
Dick didn't dare disturb the apprentice sorceress, fearing that she might get the proportions wrong.
Touched, he saw that Xiya had already begun working with complete concentration, so he quietly closed the door and left the laboratory.
Along the way, Dick pondered how to deal with the impending siege:
Ever since his Swordsmanship had improved again, he could effortlessly perform many moves he would never even have thought of before.
Once he got back, he had best practice in the courtyard again to let his body grow fully accustomed to those movements.
He should also replenish his crossbow bolts while there was still time.
Thinking this over, he reached his courtyard, opened the gate, and closed it behind him.
After another two steps forward, Dick suddenly stopped. He sensed something unusual.
Apart from his own footsteps, everything around him was silent.
Even though he lived in a detached house with its own courtyard, there should have been some insects chirping, whatever the hour.
What was more, it was nighttime, when flying insects were at their most active.
At that moment, the medallion around his neck began to vibrate slowly, its frequency steadily increasing.
The witcher's medallion was warning him, and the direction the danger came from was...
In an instant, Dick drew the silver sword from his back, turned around, and assumed a fighting stance.