Bear School Astartes

Chapter 112: 112. Growth of Skills

Lann lightly vaulted over the wall.

The sound of landing on the lawn was as soft as a cat touching the ground, with no clink of metal armor clashing.

Before coming in, Lann removed the plate armor components from his gear.

He looked just like when he first arrived in Auridon, wearing a cotton armor outer cover over chainmail.

This was different from the clumsy infiltration at the Velen camp.

The enemies weren’t at the shore with the crashing waves and strong sea scent.

In terms of defense alone, they weren’t just a bunch of weapon-wielding rabble.

But a group of elite warriors trained through rigorous practice and real combat.

The situation facing Lann was undoubtedly a thousand times more perilous than the camp battle at Velen.

But... Lann’s growth during this time was undoubtedly even more exaggerated than these changing circumstances!

At the corners of his retina, two data points were faintly glowing.

[Stealth] Proficiency -9%

[Assassination] Proficiency -6%

These two skills, after several nights of deep memory immersion, equated to personal training by the Son of the Emperor warriors.

Those warriors, near perfection in excellence, weren’t of the sneaky assassination type in the first place.

However, as a legion upholding the combat concept of ”perfection,” a combat skill need not be mastered, but cannot be completely unknown either.

Thus, in the full names of these two skills of Lann, there should actually be a prefix with a lengthy and ornate aristocratic title from ancient Europe.

Those were the names of the Son of the Emperor warriors from whom the skills originated.

The proficiency of these two skills was no longer based on human standards, but on that of the Celestial God Warriors!

9% and 6% indicate that apart from basic qualities, Lann had already reached nearly ten percent of the level of a Son of the Emperor, a Celestial God Warrior who had battled various interstellar races in the eternal star seas for centuries, in pure skill!

Like a phantom shadow.

In the brightly lit luxurious estate, Lann could instantly spot the dark dead angles between the interlacing flames with just a glance.

And those were his ideal points of approach.

A patrol of guards wandered along the estate’s cobblestone paths.

A Long Halberd Soldier, two Sword and Shield Soldiers, and a crossbowman, accompanied by a hunting dog.

This was the standard formation of the estate’s patrol.

Just by listening, Lann could identify more than ten such teams.

It seemed the entire night, the estate would be swept repeatedly by the vigilance of the patrol like a plowing operation.

Lann stood within ten paces of them, enveloped in darkness.

The typical human vision couldn’t penetrate the dark, and the hunting dog’s nose wasn’t an issue either.

When Lann drank the potion, he deliberately sprinkled a bit on the cotton armor outer layer.

The potion’s scent was strong enough to mask his own scent.

Moreover, because the Demon Hunter’s Potion was made from all-natural ingredients, the hunting dog wouldn’t react to it as it would with typical magic potions, experiencing discomfort from the magical power within.

He watched the patrol team move away with mutual calm before Lann continued forward.

His primary target in coming here was the Count himself.

If he startled them, Lann didn’t believe such a high-status figure would leave no escape route in his meticulously maintained estate.

Lann couldn’t recognize the Count’s physical characteristics, so barging into the main building of the estate randomly was unwise.

But his mind worked quickly.

The slightly glowing cat eyes were searching the ground for chaotic footprints, his nose picking up pheromones in the air.

Soon enough, in the integrated vision of the Demon Hunter, he identified a scent trail.

”A disordered complexity of scents, different from the usual sweaty, stinky feet, and leather scents of the guards... blood, feces, vomit, filthy clothing not changed for ages.”

Lann murmured to himself.

The extraordinary senses of the Demon Hunter didn’t always yield results; at least Lann couldn’t achieve meticulous differentiation among these tangled aromas.

Maybe when the Interstellar Warrior enhancements were complete, he could, but purely on the power of the Demon Hunter, this was the limit.

Yet using strength requires intelligence.

He didn’t need refined differentiation in this matter.

As long as he could pinpoint the collective characteristics of the children trafficked and held captive and differentiate them from the estate’s personnel, he could identify them.

A Count of daunting high status, no matter guards or servants, would not be allowed to urinate or vomit randomly, would they?

Dignity for a noble is more important than life itself.

A servant could lose the master’s property and still keep the job, but if they tarnish the master’s reputation, death is the only outcome.

Migrating through the dark corners, Lann gradually neared the main building of the estate.

It was a three-story structure occupying a significant floor area.

Its solid stone and timber beam construction distinguished it from the brick buildings outside the estate belonging to commoners.

This architectural style was practically modeled after a castle!

Only the top of the building was tiled in the same orange-red tiles as the buildings outside the estate.

It seemed like an attempt to make it less conspicuous in the panoramic view from the imperial palace.

The Count and the King were only politically divergent at the moment.

But if the pro-Niflgaard faction within Temeria continued to grow, whether the Count could or would maintain the conflict as mere ”political disagreement” could be uncertain.

Lann touched the foundation of the fortress.

”The scent stops here... a wall?”

Both the messy footprints and the crowd-specific scent abruptly halted in front of this wall.

Lann’s extensive detective watching convinced him that this was a mechanism wall.

”For a mechanism wall... check for wear marks.”

His cat eyes narrowed slightly, scrutinizing the wall left and right. Finally, on an ordinary brick, Lann found wear different from wind and rain erosion.

This brick was frequently touched by someone.

A gentle press, and the brick sank inward.

A large section of stone wall swung open, revealing a dark, gaping entrance.

This should have been a joyous discovery since Lann had found where the captives were hidden.

He was only steps away from rescuing these pitiful souls.

Yet Lann couldn’t bring himself to smile.

Facing a goal close at hand after arduous effort, he felt unable to smile.

Because just standing at the entrance of this deep tunnel, he heard some sounds.

Sounds that absolutely didn’t bring good news.

Lann stood at the entrance, his head drooped low. Only after a long while did he take a deep breath and descend.

He already had some idea of what he’d see in this place.

And he was mentally prepared for it.

All that was left was to face it.