Bear School Astartes

Chapter 119: 119. Chased by Death

The battle ended quickly.

Lann flicked the blood droplets off his Bear School Steel Sword and sheathed it.

He had just taken a dose of ”Thunderbolt” and ”Blizzard”.

However, thanks to his gene seed regulating his organs, the only effects on him were a pale face and darkened veins around his eyes.

Nothing like before when even his eyeballs turned pitch black.

At his feet lay the slowly bleeding corpses of five noble knights.

Black blood.

Three of them were directly slain by his sword.

The other two were slowly poisoned to death by the ”Hangman’s Venom” sword oil on the blade.

This is a sword oil specifically crafted by Demon Hunters for humans, dwarves, elves, and other sub-human races.

The targeted poison is highly effective.

Once the sword blade opens a cut in the skin, symptoms appear within half a minute, and without effective treatment, death follows in five minutes.

Combat is a highly intense exercise, and the rushing blood flow accelerates the poison’s effects.

Lann could tell this group was elite among elites, capable of spearheading charges even in war for a Knight Order.

So, to fight a quick battle, he applied the sword oil before striking.

This action indeed helped him save a lot of trouble, just as he had anticipated.

Lann now lacked built-in plate armor, reducing his defense to medium armor level.

To lessen risks, he was more than willing to treat this as a practical exam of his Demon Hunter skills.

Lann walked over to Steza’s side.

He looked at the trembling Count lying on the ground and tilted his head.

”Continue.”

Lann said softly.

The noble on the ground trembled and raised his head.

All he could see was a deathly pale, handsome face and cat-like eyes framed by dark rings.

”Keep running.”

The voice was soft as a dream, but the Count screamed as if seeing the Swamp Witch, scrambling to his feet and fleeing past the dying flames toward the building’s exit.

It was as if being pursued by death.

No...he was indeed being pursued by death!

~~~~~~

The commotion at Steza Manor did not escape the attention of the astute.

Or rather, now that the Count, who could handle affairs, was frantically fleeing, and the steward was blown to bits by his own fireball,

nobody with sufficient influence and status could block the news in time.

The trade district, filled with wealthy and well-positioned residents, looked in shock at the city’s largest manor.

Firelight, screams, explosions...

Was Veltrest finally making a move against Steza?!

Everyone’s first reaction was this.

Subsequently, they immediately hustled home, shut their doors tightly.

In this chaotic world, everyone should know what to do when a change occurs.

Otherwise, it was better to pass away sooner.

Political conflict is like a bottomless maw, swallowing all who rashly involve themselves.

Vizima’s night patrol security forces were the first to notice the upheaval at Steza Manor.

Their Commander repeatedly confirmed with higher-ups, who then verified with their superiors...

After several rounds, it even reached Vizima’s mayor—Virelaid, confirming that the King had no emergent decree.

Only then did the security team Commander muster, though still doubtful, less than a hundred men to head for the manor.

Nobody wanted to end up as a bug crushed by the aftershocks of political conflict.

But they were unaware that this upheaval in one of the most powerful estates in Vizima had nothing to do with political conflict.

It was only a solitary Demon Hunter fulfilling his duty, which was—

Hunting monsters!

Under the night, a red-haired beauty on the royal tower viewed the ”lively” Steza Manor with an indecipherable look.

Finally, she bit her plump lips, as though making a decision, and turned to leave.

Meanwhile, inside the manor that drew the entire city’s attention, blood had already flown to extremes.

That was at the section of the wall close to the main gate.

Beneath this section of the wall, Lann was withdrawing his sword blade from a warrior’s flank.

Blood trickled down the armor, merging with more blood, flowing along the cobblestone path.

This path was originally a decorative feature within the manor, laid with cobblestones far superior to those in the outer city by tenfold.

The stones were smooth and tightly packed.

Just this road alone cost upwards of a hundred Oren.

Yet, even this expensive road could not cope with such a level of blood flow due to its absorbency.

Originally, the manor had forty Plate Armor Knights and one hundred eighty regular warriors.

This battle in the manor, after Lann had wiped out twenty-five noble knights in the corridor, had no suspense left.

It was merely a cleanup operation.

A warrior stabbed in the heart from the flank collapsed as the sword left his body.

He stared aimlessly at the sky, limbs twitching as if in a dream, hands clawing into the soil before relaxing, finally returning to stillness.

On the wall, two crossbowmen were pinned together by a longsword.

Further away lay two dogs reduced to dead meat, along with a Long Halberd Soldier with a gaping neck wound.

Lann had no psychological barriers killing these soldiers.

Because on the management system for the manor’s basement, it was a rotating shift, indicating that the armed personnel in this manor were all part of the slave trade network.

”I cannot let you run farther, my Lord Earl.”

The sword in hand was still dripping blood as Lann slowly approached the heavily breathing Steza after half an hour of frantic running.

”If I let you keep running, you’ll probably reach out to the maids and servants, right? Though you know they stand defenseless before sharp blades, you’ll think it worthwhile if they could delay your doom even for half a second. I know you, you’re that kind of person.”

”No...huff...don’t! I didn’t, I didn’t step out of the manor! I’m not breaking the rules, I just lost! You killed all my guards! You’ve won! You didn’t say you’d kill me if you won! It wasn’t in the game rules, was it?!”

The Count, slumped, tried to push his body backward with hands pressed against the cobblestone path.

Every movement of his arms raised a bloody spray.

The accumulated blood was already enough to submerge his hands.

Because in skirmishing with multiple opponents, Lann had very brief contact time with each, otherwise, it would lead to a situation of being besieged.

The sword oil was used up, but he needed to inflict sufficient damage instantly, so Lann often chose methods that caused substantial bleeding.

If a hit didn’t kill immediately, the enemy would bleed out afterward.

The Demon Hunter’s hand unavoidably grabbed the Count’s skull, lifting him.

Count Steza himself seemed to realize his life was but a flickering flame in the wind.

In the terror of life and death, he grew frantic.

First, he shouted and screamed, then desperately tried to use his pampered arms to shake Lann’s grip.

In the end, he gave up these futile actions, instead deriding recklessly as if having nothing to lose.

”See! See! This is the people of the Northern Countries! This is the vile, base nature of the Northern Nations!”

”Never honoring contracts! Never respecting noble lineage! You filthy mud Wretches!”

”Just wait! Just wait! With scum like you, for every bit Temeria gains in power, mighty Niflgaard gains ten times more! You can’t keep up! You deserve to be crushed!”

”...No, don’t kill me! You can’t kill me! I’m for Temeria! I’m the future of Temeria! We must...”

Before he could finish, Lann’s hand moved from the crown of his head to cover his face.

His hand enveloped Steza’s entire face, his mouth sealed, only his frantic, crazed eyes peered through the fingers at Lann.