Bear School Astartes

When Lann arrived on land from the Black Seagull Island on Vizima Lake, he received more attention than he had in the past several times.

Standing at two meters and six in armor was truly a spectacle.

But although such attention was normal in Lann’s mind, there was still a strange feeling that lingered in the Demon Hunter’s heart.

....Was it the atmosphere?

The black clouds in the sky and the cold wind made everything appear gloomy, and the villagers of Dark Water Village hurried by, without their usual laziness and leisure.

Their eyes were cautious and sensitive, and even the fishermen who used to sit at the docks, bargaining with Lann in their crude dialect while scratching under their armpits, now only dared to glance at Lann before quickly burying their heads and walking away.

They were in panic.

Lann smelled the scent of fear in the air.

But this panic wasn’t explosive, not like there was a band of arrogant bandits lurking outside the village, ready to rush in at any moment to kill wantonly and then laugh as they tore the skirts off their wives and daughters.

This was the outskirts of the Temerian Capital, Vizima, such things weren’t likely to happen here.

This fear felt more like being in an unstable environment, trapped in a quagmire with no escape, not even knowing where to find an escape.

Fear mixed with helplessness and confusion, along with a bit of broken despair.

Lann furrowed his brows.

This was a familiar feeling.

He had roamed and lived in Velen, his introduction to this world was in that very Temerian mud pit.

The people there were shrouded in this kind of emotion.

But as his activity range expanded, even extending to otherworldly realms, he gradually forgot about this emotion and atmosphere.

Yet now, this stifling atmosphere was once again surrounding him.

Still in the small tavern in the village of Dark Water.

Lann ducked his head and entered, his body casting a huge shadow in the candlelight.

This made the villagers drinking in broad daylight, even in their muddled state, instinctively shrink back and lower their voices.

”Give me a drink, something strong.”

The bartender lazily lifted his head and then became astonished: ”Sir?!”

”Yes, it’s me.” Lann slightly lifted the hood that covered his head of silver hair. ”Can we talk after you serve the vodka?”

Even though his stature was already noticeable, he tried to be as inconspicuous as possible.

The bottle was brought up, and the bartender, holding a small wooden cup meant to be gripped in the palm, paused after looking at Lann’s obviously oversized hands.

After a dazed blink, he still swapped it out for a large mug typically used for beer and poured for Lann.

This gentleman wasn’t short on money, so he didn’t have to fear complaints from these villagers if his pour was a bit short.

With the mug in hand, it signified entering social mode within the tavern.

”I sense the atmosphere seems tense lately; do you know what’s going on?”

Lann took a sip of the rye vodka, its superior distillation technique far exceeding that of Ancient Greece, making the high alcohol content ignite a warmth in his esophagus.

He casually asked while under the hood, his cat eyes scanning everyone’s movements around him.

”You know, I’ve been away and just came back. Everyone’s mood is baffling to me.”

The bartender clearly hesitated, then gave a wry smile and picked up the bottle to refill Lann’s just-emptied mug.

Service workers should always have a hospitable tone; otherwise, it’s hard to earn Oren Coins from picky drunks, which was the impression this bartender had given Lann before.

But now, his voice was dry and struggling.

Like he was forced to swallow a mouthful of sand.

”...War has started, sir.”

Lann’s hand gripped the mug with a barely noticeable pause.

Then he continued drinking as if nothing had happened.

”Didn’t rumors of this circulate long ago? People have been talking about it for hundreds of years.”

”Yes, rumors... but no one knew the Southern folk were this, this powerful!”

”How powerful? Did they win any impressive battles?”

”The Battle of Manada.”

The bartender almost reflexively said, it seemed he had heard this news many times.

”It’s that area south of Sintra, you know? The Sintra People took all their fighting lads over, and those are the Sintra People! Fiercer than even the pirates from Skellige Islands!”

”And what happened? It was over in one day! One day! The Niflgaard people annihilated the Sintra forces! I’m not exaggerating, if I’m lying, let the plague take me!”

Sintra’s main forces had been annihilated.

When this news entered Lann’s ears, a series of images flashed through his mind.

The lively little girl with ashen hair in the forest, the high-born yet helplessly sad queen sitting on a swing under the sunset, and the white-haired Demon Hunter entangled with their fates...

The hand holding the mug stopped mid-air, and the bartender glanced at this in confusion, tentatively calling: ”Sir?”

So Lann sighed, tilted his head back, and finished the full mug of rye vodka, placing ten glittering Oren Coins on the table.

”Thank you for the news, this is for the drinks and care for the horses.”

With that, the Demon Hunter stood up, ready to head out of the tavern.

The bartender wiped his hands on the black shiny cloth on his shoulder, then scooped up the Oren Coins from the table into an open drawer.

As the Demon Hunter was about to leave the tavern, the bartender opened his mouth and called after him.

”Sir!”

With a creaking groan of the wooden door, Lann opened a crack. He stood there supporting the door, turning his head back with a puzzled look.

”Do you have something else?”

The bartender took a few deep, intense breaths, anxiously clutching the cloth, and stammered out.

”I, I’m called Gatis, sir!”

Lann paused for a moment before realizing that he didn’t know the bartender’s name, who had served him many times.

”Hello, Gatis.”

Out of courtesy, Lann greeted him.

”But why...”

Why introduce yourself at this time?

”I can’t really say, sir.”

After stating his name to Lann, Gatis seemed to have sighed in relief, becoming relaxed as he deftly wiped the glasses.

As usual.

”I just feel like... the world is about to fall into chaos.”

He said calmly, almost numbly.

”You’re one of the few significant figures I can interact with, sir. Perhaps... perhaps I just wanted someone to know my name before I die.”

Lann was stunned for a moment, then the corner of his mouth under the hood turned upwards slightly.

”Maybe you can introduce yourself to everyone who comes to drink at your tavern from now on.”

”Ha, that’s a good suggestion, I’ll take your advice. Thank you for your suggestion, sir.”

”Just call me Lann, Gatis. Live well.”