Crow's Perch.
The Baron woke up from his drunken stupor.
After hearing the news from Harry, he immediately sent people to Oxenfurt. But despite its proximity to Velen, it wasn't a place you could travel to and back from in just a day or two.
He climbed out of bed, dressed himself, and cursed under his breath.
Today, he still had to meet with the Nilfgaardians.
His wife and daughter were gone, but life went on; after all, it wasn't impossible for them to come back.
Grabbing the half-empty bottle of liquor from his bedside, he grumbled and walked out of the room.
When he reached the ground floor, two people suddenly appeared—people who had also suddenly disappeared the last time.
"The witcher... and your companion," the Baron said, surprised. "You're back so soon? Did you already find that little girl, Ciri?"
Harry shook his head. "Not quite, but we've found her trail."
"Then you can finally handle my business?" The Baron set his bottle aside. "Don't worry, I'll pay you in crowns. I understand witchers."
"Not yet," Harry replied. "I need to fully find Ciri first."
The Baron was momentarily stunned, then clicked his tongue. "So, why are you here? Just to give me a heads-up?"
"We want to take Uma," Harry said plainly. "Of course, we'll pay for it."
The Baron stroked his chin. "I'm not exactly in need of money."
"Bring back Tamara for me."
"As for Anna, I can wait."
Harry shook his head, rejecting the idea decisively. "I think I made it clear—the time and situation don't allow me to do that right now."
"I'll accept your request after I find Ciri and handle the trouble."
The Baron hardened his stance. "And what if I refuse to hand over Uma unless you bring Tamara back?"
Harry's face remained expressionless, his tone calm. "Baron, I don't think you'd make such an unwise decision. Do you really believe your little army could stop me?"
"I'm only asking because you took care of Ciri."
The Baron stayed silent, staring directly at him.
Harry snapped his fingers.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
The Baron turned around, his face turning pale with shock—a table behind him twisted and transformed into a towering giant, its head nearly touching the ceiling.
Its surface was no longer wooden but shone with a metallic sheen, cold and sharp.
The Baron was a battle-hardened man.
He could easily recognize it: top-quality steel, at least masterwork craftsmanship.
A wooden table turned into a steel colossus.
Magic?
Witchers weren't supposed to be able to use magic, right?
"I can make it even bigger," Harry whispered. "Do you think I have the ability to wipe out your army?"
The Baron's face went pale.
His voice, normally so gruff and commanding, softened: "Witcher, are you threatening me?"
Harry shrugged. "You know I'm a witcher."
"You win," the Baron admitted after a long pause, clapping his hands. "Three hundred crowns. You can take Uma."
"That's a fair price."
Harry waved his hand, and a small gold coin flew out of the Sorting Hat, landing neatly in the Baron's hand.
"Generous, aren't you?" the Baron said, surprised as he weighed it in his palm.
Harry rolled his eyes. "You need to give me change."
"That coin is worth far more than three hundred crowns."
Gold was just as valuable in this world.
Most so-called "golden jewelry" was just a bit of gold mixed with a lot of brass. Even so, a gold ring would sell for more than ten crowns.
But this? Pure gold, at such a high purity.
"Such a penny-pincher," the Baron grumbled.
"When the price of a drowner's head goes up to two crowns instead of one point three," Harry shook his head, "then maybe money wouldn't matter so much."
The Baron bit into the coin and even broke it open, his eyes widening. "This pure?"
"How about I give you six hundred crowns for it?"
Harry stayed silent, just staring at him.
"Six hundred and thirty?" the Baron immediately upped his offer.
"Baron, there's no need for this haggling," Harry shook his head. "We both know the value of this gold coin. Seven hundred and ten crowns—that's a fair price for both of us."
"As for Uma…"
"Since I'm giving you such a high-purity gold coin, two hundred crowns for Uma. You owe me five hundred and ten crowns in change."
The Baron shook his head vigorously. "Witcher, you're the one who's robbing me blind."
"Two hundred crowns? There's not another freak like him around. If I sold him to other merchants, I'd get at least four hundred crowns."
Harry reached out his hand, palm open.
He didn't say a word, but the message was clear.
Go ahead and try. See if anyone's willing to pay four hundred crowns for that thing.
The Baron scratched his cheek, feeling a bit embarrassed. "I might have exaggerated… but two hundred's too low. How about three hundred? That's a fair price."
"But I'm not paying you in crowns; I'm paying you in gold," Harry gestured with his hand, and the gold coin in the Baron's hand floated up. "If I went to Novigrad, this coin would be worth at least seven hundred, maybe even eight hundred crowns if I made it a bit more ornate."
The Baron retorted confidently, "But you're in Crow's Perch, not Novigrad."
Harry didn't speak. He just made a snap sound with his fingers.
That sound reminded the Baron.
These two people in front of him had teleportation magic.
"But it still hasn't been turned into a work of art," the Baron grumbled.
Harry waved his hand.
The gold coin transformed into a miniature but lifelike wolf.
The Baron was at a loss for words.
He could even transfigure it.
"Alright, seven hundred crowns. For Uma, I can take a step back—two hundred and sixty crowns?" the Baron took a deep breath.
Harry waved his hand, and the gold turned back into its original form. "Deal."
"Wolf," the Baron muttered a single word.
Harry glanced at him.
The Baron sighed and didn't continue.
He held the gold coin and went back to his room to fetch the money. Four hundred crowns weren't a small sum. For the average farmer, a few crowns were enough to live for a month. When they pooled together a hundred crowns for a witcher, it was always scraped together painfully.
Though he was the "Bloody Baron," he was still just a lord in Velen. His castle was little more than a glorified village.
Hermione looked at Harry with surprise and delight. "Harry, I didn't know you were such a good negotiator."
"It's one of the essential skills of a witcher," Harry said lightly, a hint of satisfaction in his smile.
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Powerstones?
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