Bear School Astartes

After Belengar’s face twitched and his mouth opened and closed several times, the Old Demon Hunter finally slumped his shoulders and let out a sigh.

”Damn!”

Belengar cursed angrily.

”When I was young...”

”Got chased by griffins until you ran for cover? Stop reminiscing about the past; you don’t have any glorious achievements to show. You’ve already admitted as much to me, Belengar. Remember? Now, help me fit your four swords in here. Once I find Geralt and Ged, they’ll definitely find them useful.”

So, the Old Demon Hunter, whose grand ambitions had been shattered, could only follow the advice of the young one.

He stuffed the two pairs of Demon Hunter Longswords into Lann’s Alchemy Pouch.

Valyrian steel, when facing ordinary steel weapons, barely suffers any wear and tear — a precious trait.

In the midst of war, Geralt and Ged would likely consider themselves fortunate to have a shoddy Velen Longsword as a backup weapon on hand.

In high-intensity combat environments, the rate at which weapons wear out can be beyond what a layperson might imagine.

A careless clash could potentially cause the balance of the longsword to shift or its blade to bend.

Such a longsword isn’t even fit to serve as a training tool, let alone for battle. Aside from melting and reforging it, there’s virtually no saving it.

Anyone daring to use such a weapon might as well end things quickly while the blade is still sharp.

”When you give those two Wolf School swords to that kid named Geralt, make sure to remind him to be careful with them.”

As Belengar was stuffing the longswords into Lann’s Alchemy Pouch, he rambled on.

”These two swords are the first Valyrian Steel weapons ever made in the world! I was originally planning to keep them for myself!”

”Hmm?” Lann frowned, realizing things were not so simple. ”Wasn’t the first weapon supposed to be the Murky Flow you forged for me? Wow, you’re pocketing some for yourself?!”

The Old Demon Hunter countered without hesitation, ”Chefs always try the food first. You got a problem with that?”

”Oh, then never mind.”

If chefs didn’t take a taste, the grains wouldn’t be harvested.

Getting chefs not to sample their own dishes would require a societal revolution to accomplish.

Once they placed the four swords, Belengar fell into a brief silence before patting Lann’s arm with pursed lips.

”I was about to advise you, ’if things go south, run.’ But considering how you handled Steza, I know I can’t persuade you.”

Lann chuckled, ”If I could be persuaded, you’d still be stuck in that disgusting Count’s Manor. Waiting for some Sun Sect Priest with a thing for older men to buy your ass.”

”Well, that’s true. Just to save my own ass, I ought to thank you.”

Belengar smiled then turned to Lann, his smile gradually fading into seriousness.

”You’ll come back in one piece, right?”

”Yeah, I’m pretty good at this.”

Lann answered him decisively.

”Then I’ll wait patiently... Damn, if your Female Warlock finds out it was me who tipped you off, I’m in for a world of trouble.”

”Margaret will definitely find out.” Lann shrugged, ”But you can wait for me to come back and rescue you.”

”...Ha! It’s a deal then.”

-----------------

When Lann returned to Airetusa from the Valyrian steel smelting workshop, Margaret was in the cozy bedroom.

Soaking in a large wooden tub.

The warm water in the bath kept her in a semi-drowsy stupor.

Lann’s entrance was what startled her awake.

”These past few days, I haven’t even had the chance for a bath, fearing that during that short time in the wash, the Wizard Association and Warlock Council would make decisions against the academy if they can’t reach me.”

She said as she splashed water lightly over her body.

”I had to use a whole bottle of perfume just to tolerate myself those days.”

”The hardest times are behind us.” Lann sat on the bed behind the bathtub, observing Margaret’s bare-backed, unclad figure.

”The documents I’ve prepared for you will allow you a significant breather until Tishaya returns.”

”So, would the dear like a little reward?”

Margaret smiled, turning slightly. Even the small movement stirred up a wave of creamy white undulations across her chest.

”You need rest now; indulging too much is harmful.”

The Demon Hunter sitting on the bed behind her merely showed a gentle smile and shook his head.

”By the way.”

The Demon Hunter on the bed thought for a moment, then retrieved a stone marked with unknown runes from his bosom.

Once taken out, a biting cold emanated from the stone, spreading across the floor as a thin layer of frost.

Following that, Lann also produced an antimagic gold bomb, placing it with the stone so its heaviness stopped the cold from spreading.

”If you have the time, study this with Tishaya.”

Margaret rested her elbows on the bathtub’s rim and turned around with a frown.

Clearly, the appearance of an antimagic gold bomb made her uncomfortable.

”What’s that? A new toy from another world?”

The Female Warlock waved a hand.

”Lann, some of these things from other worlds are indeed fascinating, but their paths differ greatly from ours. It’s okay if you just use them, but if you want to analyze them...”

That’s a large undertaking.

At least on par with the Crystal Cultivation Project, requiring the collaboration of many warlocks from various countries to yield results worth anticipating.

Margaret didn’t finish speaking; she didn’t want to dampen Lann’s expectations.

Yet, Lann’s demeanor remained remarkably normal, as if he hadn’t grasped her underlying message.

”But this is Elven technology.”

”...What did you say?”

Margaret couldn’t help but lean her head in Lann’s direction, trying hard to listen.

Lann oriented the unrecognized rune side of the stone towards Margaret for her to examine closely.

”The Lady of the Lake told me, it’s an ancient Elven technique long lost to our elves, a magic beacon capable of spanning worlds.”

”A beacon that spans worlds?” Margaret’s reaction upon hearing this was significantly more composed than Lann’s had been then.

Seems such matters don’t upend a warlock’s worldview.

Understandably so, given Lann even found records of ’Ancient Deer-headed Spirits causing minor sphere alignments’ in the Airetusa library.

This shouldn’t be difficult to accept.

”Hmm, looking at it this way, it does have a sort of Elven style... Lost technology, perhaps there’s some breakthrough possible!”

Lann left the stone on Margaret’s vanity, next to the antimagic gold bomb.

But he retained possession of the Anka Cross from the precursor civilization.

As it was a piece of refined technological creation, magical methods could very likely lead to inner disruptions, after all.