Bear School Astartes

Lann jumped down from a sun-bleached rock, then walked a few steps and squatted down on the road beside the rock to observe.

If he followed the normal route, he would have to take a detour to reach his current position.

The Aegean Sea is full of fractured islands, formed due to intense geological activity. As a result, these islands often feature uneven terrain.

The people of Ancient Greece began the development of their civilization on these small islands.

”The ruts are deeply pressed, but the quality of the wheels is far better than what’s available in the market... It seems, as the legends say, Spartans put all their craftsmanship into the military.”

Lann, with gloves of hardened armor plates on his fingers, picked up a pinch of soil from the ground and studied it carefully, muttering to himself.

”The soil contains barley particles; it’s definitely a grain transport cart.”

Currently, outside Mogala City, only the Spartans can be transporting grain. Their renowned army is invincible on the lands of Megaliss.

In the eyes of the Demon Hunter, his cat-like vertical pupils contracted.

His extraordinary senses activated, and the whole world became more vividly colored.

The tire tracks on the ground turned glaringly bright red.

Lann followed these marks forward.

As he advanced, the scenery shifted from the fields, cleared around the city-states, to a small forest where slender trees, nearly two-person tall, were still growing.

Sunlight from the Aegean Sea filtered through the spaces between leaves, forming patches of light.

Having only entered the small forest a little distance, Lann slightly sniffed and his beautiful eyebrows gently furrowed.

The Demon Hunter’s sensitive sense of smell captured unusual scent information.

Within this small forest, there were smells of animal droppings, body odor, and the fresh scent of crushed branches, among others.

All these smells were normal, except for... the scent of human blood mixed with the odor of decaying food.

In addition to being alert, Lann was slightly surprised.

Though he had speculated about potential issues in Spartan army logistics, he hadn’t thought he would encounter a problem on the very first day of investigation.

Was he just lucky? Or were the problems facing Spartan logistics more severe than imagined?

Lann hoped it was not the latter.

His armored boots crushed the fallen leaves and twigs as the Demon Hunter, guided by the dual markers of tire tracks and scent, finally arrived at the scene.

The situation at the scene was pretty much as Lann had envisioned.

Several bodies were gutted and placed by the roadside. Seven of them wore only a Spartan red short skirt at the waist and a brass Corinthian helmet without plumage.

The other three were dressed similarly to those Spartans on the beach, wearing wrist guards, shin guards, and a full piece of brass armor sculpted with abs and chest muscles.

In total, ten Spartan Warriors, three likely to be the rare and cherished Spartan Citizens trained day and night from childhood.

But now, these elite soldiers of their era were slaughtered like livestock.

The grain transport they once vowed to defend was now a pile of splintered wood, and the once precious grain scattered around their corpses, or rotting in uncollected, small heaps.

In the Mediterranean region during Ancient Greece, Greeks, due to their fragmented geography, had limited grain production capacity.

Greeks would produce olive oil and wine, then import grain from Egypt and other agricultural nations through ocean trade.

Thus barley, olive oil, and wine formed the maritime trade triangle of Ancient Greece.

The rotting remnants on the ground were precisely these things.

Lann squatted beside a heap of corpses, ran his fingers across their wounds, probing inward.

”The blood is decaying and attracting flies; the smell suggests they’ve been dead for... two days?”

Muttering his deduction, Lann quickly shook his head.

”No, considering the coastal climate of the Aegean Sea, this may have happened within a day. The decay of grain follows the same logic.”

Having stood up, the Demon Hunter surveyed the crime scene, feeling a sense of discord and unease.

Within his extraordinary senses, the footprints on the ground appeared glaringly vivid in color, yet their distribution and quantity were terribly chaotic.

”All ten died from the same weapon, by the same person.”

Returning to his starting position, Lann looked down at the Spartan Warriors’ corpses.

Carnivorous insects, drawn by the putrid stench, gathered on the bodies.

”Someone could pierce through the Spartan brass armor and then rip it open like tearing paper. Though it’s brass alloy, it’s legitimate armor... Without a doubt, this is yet another of those ’Gods-recognized’ individuals Cassandra mentioned. Ordinary people would never stand a chance against him.”

”And yet, such a person... didn’t cover up the traces?”

Lann’s eyebrow raised unconsciously, showing surprise.

Covering traces isn’t a difficult task, particularly in war-torn areas, especially along the Aegean coast with its climatic and geographical factors.

Even in savage times, a normal hunter knew: to dispose of a body, one needed simply to lure a pack of wolves in the wild.

Wild beasts were more plentiful than humans those days.

To maintain the original condition of these bodies outdoors was far more challenging than covering up traces.

Momentarily pondering, many possibilities swirled in Lann’s mind.

Ultimately, he shook his head to dismiss them.

”Idle thoughts aren’t as fruitful as action.”

”The carts were destroyed, those carrying the grain won’t go far.”

Lann turned his gaze towards a distant hill, where, due to geological activity, caves were prevalent. It’s a good gathering spot for bandits, and war encouraged bandit raids.

But the question was, where did the bandits gain the ability to kill Spartan Warriors?

If they had such skills, why be bandits?

”Let’s go check it out first.”

Thinking this, Lann changed direction and began climbing the hill.

Meanwhile, in Mogala City, Phoebe was playing stones with a circle of children.

This game tested the player’s speed and aim, throwing a varying number of stones and catching them, winning admiration from others.

The more stones you threw and caught, the better.

The game’s level differentiation made it even more charming.

Phoebe, with her lively personality and cheerful smile, easily blended into the local children’s game.

The fact she wasn’t hungry even led these children to believe she came from a good background.

Unlike the local children, Phoebe devoted only half her attention to the game.

The rest was used to perk her ears, listening to what they inadvertently said during the game.