Chapter 122: The Strength of the Monster Deck
As [Scorch] was played, the skull icon on the card's upper-left corner emitted a faint halo that swept across the entire table. Zoltan's cards, all with a strength of '2,' instantly dimmed, signifying 'defeat.'
"Duvvelsheyss! My cards!"
Zoltan glared at Dandelion in a fit of pique, looking ready to grab something and strike the poet. But he finally just huffed and roughly swept the dimmed cards into the 'Graveyard.'
"I pass this round." Dandelion said with a cheeky smile, taking the first round with a 1-point strength advantage.
Zoltan slumped in his seat, dejected, like a beaten rooster.
"Cheer up, you still have a chance there are two rounds left!" Arthur tried to encourage him, but it seemed to have little effect.
"Zoltan has no chance." Geralt said, rubbing his chin. "Accounting for the round-win bonus, Dandelion has nine cards to command in the second round, while Zoltan only has seven. And he must win both remaining rounds…"
Even Koglgrim shook his head: "Too difficult."
The progression of the game went exactly as Geralt had predicted. Using unit-limiting Weather Cards and unit-recalling Decoy Cards, Dandelion easily exhausted Zoltan's hand. By the time the second round concluded, Zoltan's hands were empty, while Dandelion still held four cards clearly, all four were powerful combat units.
Before the third round even began, Dandelion was confident of victory: "Let me think, what prize should I demand this time?"
The rewards for a Gwent match were always flexible. It could be the best card from the opponent's deck, but more often it was just the finest wine from an inn. It was, in short, customizable.
"Ha, I've got it!" The light in Dandelion's eyes glittered with mischief: "If I win this time, you have to let me touch your bald head I've never had the pleasure of touching a dwarf's bald head before!"
"You!" Zoltan was so angry that the fontanel on his head flushed red. He looked like a red-skinned egg. He cried out in vain: "If I win, I'm taking that lute of yours, no question!"
Dandelion laughed dismissively: "You win first, then we'll talk."
After trading insults for a while longer, the third round finally began.
Zoltan reached for the top of the draw pile with a funeral-like expression. As the winner of the second round, Dandelion got to draw one extra card, but this was clearly not enough to reverse the situation.
The change happened in an instant. The moment he saw the card's illustration, Zoltan shouted in excitement:
"Ha! I'm going to win your lute this time!"
Amidst his excited roar, the dwarf slammed his only card onto the 'Siege Unit' row. It was a Medic card with a strength of 5:
[Medical Student: I don't care what nation he's from, I only know I'm a doctor.]
The white cross and black spade on the card's left side pulsed gently. The 'Graveyard' on Zoltan's side faintly lit up, indicating he could select one card from it to resurrect.
"…" Dandelion's laughter abruptly ceased.
Zoltan roared with laughter: "Ha! I knew I wouldn't go down so easily!"
The card he resurrected from the Graveyard was exactly the one Dandelion least wanted to see [Prince Stennis]. Although its combat strength was only 5 and was added to Dandelion's side, as a Spy card, it also granted Zoltan two extra cards.
"It won't be that easy to turn the tables!"
Dandelion stiffened and played a Catapult with a strength of 8, but Zoltan immediately countered with a Giant Crabspider of strength 6 which also pulled three Crabspiders of strength 4 onto the board, shifting the strength score to 13:18.
"Can we negotiate a change in the winning prize?"
Sweat beaded on Dandelion's forehead. He tried to use persuasion to get the dwarf to change the bet: "Look, I still have three cards left, and you only have one. Technically, my chances of winning are still higher…"
"Stop running your mouth, play your card!" Zoltan rubbed the cards in his hand like they were his favorite axe.
Dandelion sighed heavily, playing an Archer of strength 4 with a look of resignation. Now he only had two cards left.
"Come on, let's see where the Goddess of Luck is truly standing!" Zoltan spat fiercely out the window, then slapped down his last card, [Smuggler's Support].
"I have no more cards to play."
Zoltan's gaze was fixed intently on Dandelion's two remaining cards. He now had a total of seven Melee cards on the board, with a total strength of 33. It looked like a solid win, but it wasn't entirely stable. Although Dandelion had used a second Biting Frost in the second round, what if he had another? If he threw down that card, the poet could reverse the entire game, even without doing anything else.
Fortunately, Dandelion ultimately failed to turn the tide. His last two cards were both Blue Stripes Commandos. Although their strength doubled due to the Fraternity effect, he was still four points shy of Zoltan's score.
"I should have saved the Biting Frost for the end!" Dandelion exclaimed in frustration.
"You shouldn't have wasted that first Blue Stripes Commando at the start you drew three Blue Stripes Commandos and played the hand this poorly. You took a perfect hand and ruined it." Geralt mercilessly pointed out the flaws in the poet's strategy.
"I didn't want him to get suspicious!" Dandelion hugged his lute to his chest, his face crumpled. He looked pitifully at Zoltan: "Please, can we change the condition? I'll agree to anything else!"
Zoltan grinned like a theatrical villain: "How can we? Once words are spoken, there's no backing out!"
Dandelion's face went white as snow. His chest heaved rapidly a few times, and then he suddenly grabbed his lute and lunged for the carriage door to jump out!
"Hey, what are you doing?! It's just a card game, are you trying to kill yourself over it?!"
Luckily, due to his lack of physical training, the poet's strength and speed were far inferior to the other passengers in the carriage. His hand barely reached the door handle before Arthur and Geralt scrambled to pull him back, pinning him firmly to the floor.
"Zoltan, how about you change the prize? It's just a card game, there's no need to go this far," Arthur quietly negotiated with the dwarf while holding Dandelion down.
The sudden change of events had left Zoltan a bit stunned, too. He answered in a low voice: "I was just trying to scare him, to vent some anger. I didn't think he valued that lute more than his own life…"
With that, his eyes gleamed. He subtly told Arthur, 'Don't worry,' then sat opposite Dandelion with a theatrical flourish:
"Great Poet, we are men of our word. What has been said cannot be unsaid."
Dandelion's body trembled violently again, his lips turning blue. Zoltan quickly finished his statement:
"However, understand this: I only demand ownership of this lute. The right to use it still remains with you meaning, you can keep holding it and carrying on with your life."
Hearing that the dwarf would allow him to keep the lute, Dandelion let out a long, shaky breath. He sagged against the carriage seat like he'd had his bones removed, completely drenched in sweat as if he'd been pulled from the river.