Bear School Astartes

Their distance from the city of the tree spirits—Dun Kanar was no longer far.

The next day, their group arrived at the forest of giant trees. Bryan knelt before this forest, burying his forehead into the lichens.

The three demon hunters involuntarily followed the sturdy trunks with their gaze, and even when their necks were bent at the maximum angle, they could not see deep into the canopies.

The trees here, just by age alone, inspired awe in sentient beings, even those like elves who belonged to the long-lived species.

Ciri’s reaction was simple; she just sighed enviously, seemingly lamenting the absence of such magnificent trees in her royal gardens.

Lann recognized that most of these robust and majestic trees were oak, along with purple cedar, white walnut, and more.

Their diameters were generally over ten meters, and just the twisted, thick roots gathered together and turned into trunks were already taller by two heads than the tallest of their group, Lann.

They moved swiftly because between the giant trees the ground was free of annoying vines and shrubs, as these plants could not find the resources to survive under the giants.

Between the vast gaps among the trees, there was only a thick layer of decaying leaves.

Though the pace was lightened, the group was not very talkative. Even Ciri, who couldn’t stay idle and would often reveal a mischievous grin when safe, was silent with her head lowered.

Between these giant trees, they seemed small and insignificant.

Lann was grateful there was no one suffering from a fear of large objects among them, or else this few hours’ journey would be tough to endure.

Ciri’s cold was worsening, evidenced by the increasing frequency and force with which she sniffled, yet a trickle of mucus still escaped, prompting her to repeatedly take out a handkerchief and wipe clean.

Geralt, bearing the princess as a ”steed,” was the first to be unable to tolerate it. He taught Ciri the method of blowing her nose with her fingers. Ciri seemed very pleased.

With a smile and her bright green eyes, she ran towards Lann. Seeing her approach, the young man immediately knew this imp wanted to perform in front of him, perhaps even deliberately fling the mucus onto his boots.

So he waited with a smile for Ciri to come running, but behind his back, his hand was already poised for a head flick.

Unexpectedly, halfway through her sprint, the little girl saw Lann’s smiling expression, and suddenly her smile faded, her face turned red.

Then she swerved back to resume her place on Geralt’s back.

After Geralt once again carried the princess, for some reason, his eyes that looked at the silver-haired youth narrowed slightly, carrying a hint of danger.

Lann was oblivious to this, merely regretting that the head flick didn’t happen.

The guide Bryan suddenly halted, turned around, and spoke to the three demon hunters.

”Demon hunters.” she said while pulling out several strips of cloth from her person, originally prepared as blood-stopping bandages.

”Come here, I have to cover your eyes to lead you into Dun Kanar.”

Vesemir and Geralt, familiar with such occurrences, stepped forward to let Bryan blindfold them. Lann then nodded to show his willingness to follow local customs.

The only thing that caught his attention was that Ciri was not asked to wear a blindfold.

After having their eyes covered, Geralt could no longer carry Ciri. This lively imp was now almost recovered with her ankle enough to walk, hence she volunteered to guide the demon hunters forward.

She chirped along the way, exclaiming at the animals and plants she’d never seen outside, as well as the magnificent scenes made up of these things.

She tried hard to use her learned grammar to describe everything to the demon hunters.

But a nine-year-old girl couldn’t be expected to be perfectly eloquent, and Lann only felt warmth on his face, which was the sensation of sunlight piercing through the tree clusters landing on his face and blindfold.

Then, twitching his nose, he felt the moisture thickening, the silver pendant on his chest began to tremble continuously and incessantly.

Chaos Magic Power was gradually thickening.

”We’ve arrived, you may remove your blindfolds, demon hunters.”

The mist formed by moisture reached Bryan’s knees as she proudly introduced the place to the demon hunters who were removing their blindfolds and rubbing their eyes.

”Dun Kanar, this is the Land of Oaks, the Heart of Brokilon.”

Both Geralt and Vesemir had been here before, whether for missions or other reasons, they’ve been here.

Whereas Lann and Ciri were genuine first-timers.

This was a settlement established within the Waterfall Cave, with the cave’s opening above concealed by vast green canopies, mist and steam emerged from soil and rock crevices. There seemed to be geothermal hot springs here.

The settlement’s buildings were entirely grown naturally from trees, spread like climbing vines within the Waterfall Cave.

The tree spirits possessed supernatural abilities to interfere with plant growth, they could acquire a set of desired architecture without the need for blades and axes.

They only needed to have the patience for the trees to grow.

And fortunately, the long-lived tree spirits had no lack of patience.

Between the vertically arrayed houses in the space, large umbrella-shaped porous mushrooms were used as steps and passages.

Upon their arrival, the Waterfall Cave was initially dead silent, with not a single shadow.

But after Bryan let out a clear and pleasant whistle, a tree spirit stepped down from a slightly higher house on the mushrooms.

After a few exchanges in the awkward yet beautiful ancient language, Lann heard Vesemir beside him breathe a sigh of relief.

”Whew, Aisne agreed to meet, that’s good news.”

The old demon hunter lightly murmured to himself.

This confirmed for Lann that murmuring was indeed an occupational habit among demon hunters.

The tree spirits did not have the complicated etiquette akin to human courts; no need to bathe before meeting the king, shave, change into tight-fitting formal attire, wait for the king’s summons to enter and pay respects, then queue to speak.

In Dun Kanar, Aisne said they could meet, and that meant meeting straightaway.

After receiving confirmation, Bryan directly led the group to a large building’s entrance.

”Go in, demon hunters, you can meet Lady Aisne now. Vá fáill, poor little thing.”

”What?”

Ciri, puzzled, turned to Vesemir; she already found out who among the three was the most knowledgeable and her relationship with the old demon hunter progressed swiftly.

”It’s a farewell, Ciri. She’s saying goodbye.”

”Ah! Goodbye, Bryan.”

They went inside; nothing unusual with Geralt and Vesemir, but as soon as Ciri entered, an irritated and nearly frenzied male voice suddenly burst out.

”Little rascal! You’re here, huh! Finally caught you! Lucky you, I can’t get out of bed, or else I’d make your backside bloom!”

Ciri pouted.

”You want to hit my backside?” she comically wrinkled her nose, ”I’m a lady… one shouldn’t hit a lady’s backside! That’s not right.”

Lann followed Ciri inside and confirmed the man lying in bed, with bandages seeping blood on his shoulder, wasn’t truly intent on harming Ciri.

The tone resembled more of an admonishment to a misbehaving child running away.

”Sir, before you educate this... ’lady’” calling Ciri a ’lady’ certainly tied Lann’s tongue briefly.

The little girl proudly smiled at Lann for that.

”Shouldn’t you announce your identity first?”

”My identity, hmph, my identity…” The man with the bleeding bandages spoke initially with indignation, but as he continued talking, a trace of bewilderment and distress emerged.

”I used to be Baron Bodrog, under the command of King Aivelle, the Governor. But now? Now?!... You little miscreant! After you ran away from my convoy, what do I have left?!”

”I turned from a Governor into a wanted fugitive in Videns! On my land, awaits nothing but the gallows!”