Bear School Astartes

The three demon hunters reached a decision quickly, partly due to their brisk personalities, and partly because of the increasingly impatient gazes from the dryads nearby.

Lann felt that the task Vesemir received from King Venceslav was likely not too difficult, as the old man appeared quite relaxed at the moment.

After the three decided to travel together for a while, Vesemir once again communicated with the brick-red-haired dryad in the ancient tongue.

The old man’s proficiency in the ancient tongue was much smoother than Geralt’s rather mediocre level.

After a string of convoluted words, the brick-red-haired dryad unconsciously plucked at her bowstring, then nodded silently after a moment’s pause.

”Bryan, take the demon hunters to Dun Kanar, and see Aisne.”

Bryan nodded, stepped out from their ranks, and approached Vesemir.

Picked up two long swords buried in the dense grass and handed them to the old demon hunter.

Lann suddenly realized; he had thought that Vesemir seemed a bit out of place, only to understand now that he had disarmed first to demonstrate sincerity and trust during the conversation.

Apparently noticing the young man’s gaze, Vesemir fastened his sword belt back on and chatted with Lann smilingly.

”You young ones have quick tempers, might not understand this approach, but you’ll see in the future—avoiding bloodshed is always preferable.”

”When you enter a noble’s castle to take a job, you must lay down your swords. After all, you live off the bounty that the nobles assign for such tasks, and the employer has no incentive to harm us before a problem is solved. It’s the same in Brokilon.”

”The dryads have no reason to harm me, and if they intend to, holding two swords wouldn’t change a thing. It’d only add hostility.”

Bryan paid no mind to the demon hunters’ conversation and just glanced at the three of them before heading deeper into the woods.

Lann and the others followed, the young man telling Vesemir.

”I’m not quite as fiery-tempered as you think, I’m pretty calm actually. I also agree with you: avoiding bloodshed is best.”

The old demon hunter laughed heartily, raised his hand to pat Lann’s shoulder.

Geralt stayed right behind the dryad, hearing Lann’s words made him smirk.

The movement abilities of the three demon hunters and the dryad in the forest were beyond ordinary people; once they set into motion, they could maintain a speed in the primeval forest comparable to brisk walking on a flat surface.

But after advancing at this speed for roughly two hours, Bryan was the first to suggest a break.

Her chest was rising and falling under the patterned outerwear, a sign of her effort to adjust her breath.

The dryads possessed an affinity for trees, but the physical endurance of the demon hunters made her tire first.

The demon hunters didn’t oppose this, slowing their stride appreciably to let their muscles rest.

As the speed decreased, they had leisure for conversation.

Drawing near to Lann, Bryan said: ”We all thank you for granting that twisted soul neighboring the forest peace.”

The honey-haired dryad naturally distanced herself afterward.

Geralt followed her, making Lann find it curious that the White Wolf didn’t seize the chance to tease him in terms of male-female relations.

”What do you want me to say?”

The White Wolf cast a peculiar glance and retorted.

”Dryads have no love, nor lust, Lann. Even with your looks and physique, they harbor only a simple reproductive urge towards you. But once they learn you’re a demon hunter, unable to sow life’s seed, their desire for you disappears.”

”We’ll spend several nights outdoors in this grand forest, Bryan might huddle up to you on chilly nights. But that doesn’t mean she desires you...she only sees you as a blanket, nothing more.”

”Honestly, you might as well just consider her a blanket at that time.”

Lann felt curious about the dryads’ markedly different emotional nature compared to humans, but Geralt’s words still earned him a rolled eye.

”Am I just a perpetually amorous beast to you, Geralt?”

”Anyway, no proper demon hunter would go to a female warlock’s academy to mingle.”

”Yes, yes, and proper demon hunters probably wouldn’t have romantic entanglements with female warlocks, right?”

Logically speaking, this comment should wound at least two people present, but unfortunately, one felt no hurt at all, leaving the entirety of the damage to be borne by one.

”Damn!”

A slightly hoarse deep male voice murmured sotto voce.

Geralt was struck down!

Vesemir naturally overtook Geralt, whose steps had grown heavy.

Like a father to Geralt, he was long clear on his student’s emotional setbacks with that female warlock, now too indifferent to intervene.

Instead, the obviously complex Bear School youngster piqued his interest.

”Are you looking for work around Airetusa now?”

Vesemir moved with ease, though under the armor, his belly showed signs of rounding out. Yet Lann doubted Geralt could match him physically.

Since the grandmaster might well be his future mentor, Lann chose not to conceal anything.

”Yeah, I have a research project in Airetusa now...hey, Vesemir, don’t look at me like that! I’m not a subject; I’m a researcher! Engaged in serious alchemical research using knowledge and inspiration!”

Once Lann elucidated definitively, the elder demon hunter’s furrowed brow and sharp gaze returned to calm.

Subsequently, Lann seized the opportunity to describe to the ’living relic’ demon hunter his alchemical talent, and the advice from Belengar about wanting to learn the entire alchemical knowledge of the demon hunters.

Bryan walking ahead listened intently. She apparently had little understanding of what Lann’s mentioned talent meant, or its significance in the outside world, but was just enjoying the tale.

However, two seasoned demon hunters were discerning figures.

The Wolf Sect grandmaster’s mouth opened and closed repeatedly, yet he couldn’t voice a word.

And Geralt even emerged from the despondency of the mental strike.

”You mean...you improved upon the magic potion formula upon first contact?”

Geralt smacked his lips as he spoke.

While Vesemir focused on another aspect.

”The crystalline cultivation project you participated in has already reached limb regeneration-level results?”

Lann raised his brows at the two seniors.

The relic-level demon hunter focusing on academic innovation, while one active had yet to reach that acuity.

It must be said, the saying ’old and wise’ suited Vesemir perfectly.

And as Lann expected his talent to garner Vesemir’s recognition and allow him entry to Ker Morhan.

The old demon hunter laughed and diverted the topic.

Despite outwardly heaping praise on Lann’s alchemical aptitude, the young man faintly sensed his goal of obtaining recognition growing increasingly distant.

An illusion?

Lann furrowed his brow, unsure what went amiss.

Vesemir obviously was broad-minded and caring of juniors.

He was the oldest among all current demon hunters, even upon first meeting Lann, he began advising him to ’avoid bloodshed’.

However now, facing a young demon hunter with remarkable alchemical talent, potentially highly promising, he instead concealed his knowledge.