Bear School Astartes

This sword is indeed good, but Geralt isn’t the type who would take a friend’s belongings without returning them.

His weathered yet still handsome face showed only a hint of reluctance, but he nonetheless turned the longsword around, offering the hilt to Lann.

”No, there’s no need to return it to me.”

Lann shook his head, instead pulling out a scabbard that matched the longsword, along with another silver sword, and handed them over.

”This is a gift from the Master Blacksmith of your Wolf School for you. In a war zone, having the right tools is essential.”

”Master Belengar?”

Ged wiped the blood from the last Niflgaard soldier’s neck and came over to ask.

This drew Geralt’s attention.

I wonder why it seems like your Bear School knows our school’s Master Blacksmith better than I do?

Given the current dangerous circumstances, Geralt didn’t say much but accepted the two longswords, strapping them to his back.

”Yes, Belengar. He also prepared a set for you.”

Lann handed Ged the twin swords from the Bear School and hugged this friend as well.

A bit more comfortable than with Geralt, at least he didn’t have to bend over as much.

”Thank you, mate. You faithfully fulfilled my request, even putting yourself at risk.”

As Lann patted Ged’s back, he spoke with a sense of gratitude.

”Haha, let’s not say such formalities between us.”

The poet, who had been crawling in the pit with the heron feather pressed on his hat, appeared lightly beside the three.

He first poked Geralt’s side with his finger, nodding towards Lann, who was noticeably taller and stronger than everyone else.

Geralt brushed away his hand with a slight disdain, then nodded to indicate Lann was indeed their friend.

Finally relieved, Dandelion still felt as if he had experienced an avalanche when Lann charged past him!

Geralt would dare to take on over twenty Niflgaard soldiers, and Dandelion might dare to follow along, but to fight with someone like Lann...

He could only promise not to leave him and run away, risking death together but definitely not daring to fight.

At this moment, the poet, having calmed down, noticed the unusual longsword in Geralt’s hand.

And let out a low exclamation.

”Valerian steel! You’re holding a Valerian steel sword!”

”Valerian what?”

Seeing Geralt’s deadpan face, despite being used to his friend’s behavior, Dandelion still felt the frustration of expressing emotions without response.

The poet fears this most.

”Valerian steel! The hottest new material on the market! Even dwarves are buying it in bulk! When have you seen those dwarfs not sell steel but actually buy it instead?”

Having said this, the poet spoke with the tone of a hymn.

”’Like waves, like smoke! Forged in dragon fire, unyielding to common iron!’ This is the weapon description prepared by my friend for the protagonist of his poem, though I feel it’s inferior, but at least the features are accurate.”

”It’s said that weapons made from this are all crafted by renowned craftsmen, and any base price is this much!”

Dandelion made a ’six’ sign with his hand to Geralt.

Geralt silently went ’wow’: ”No wonder I don’t know this stuff, because I rarely focus on things I can’t afford.”

From afar, Ciri stumbled her way over from the small hill where they had originally hidden.

”Are you all okay?”

She had rushed over after the battle ended.

Geralt waved her away, indicating not to come too close, given the presence of smallpox here.

Beside the small thatch hut, a girl with long braids propped herself up, kneeling. She stood shaky, futilely tugging at her torn clothes with trembling hands.

The girl, with awkward movements, wiped her face and staggered to the small wooden house, directly through the mud and blood on the ground.

”Hey, wait.” Ciri, feeling a responsibility as the only woman present, called out, ”Hey, do you need help? Hey!”

The girl didn’t turn her head, stumbled over the threshold and almost fell. Fortunately, she caught the door handle in time and walked into the room, slamming the door heavily.

The joy of friends united in adversity was extinguished by that heavy closing door.

The few present fell into slight silence.

”A shame, I thought she’d say thanks for our righteous act in coming here at risk.”

The poet tried to liven the atmosphere with a quip.

But Ciri whirled around, glaring at Dandelion.

”What would she thank us for?”

”Indeed,” Lann added faintly from the side, ”what should she be thankful for?”

Having gone through all that, the girl surviving and not going mad was fortunate.

”Thank those soldiers’ horses.”

Geralt stood before Dandelion, meeting Ciri’s gaze.

”We’ll take what we need, but will leave some. She could slaughter them for meat, thus avoiding killing cows. She evidently has immunity to smallpox and doesn’t have to starve now.”

”She’ll survive because the later arriving Niflgaard people will see the corpses and realize smallpox isn’t a lie or an excuse, then keep their distance.”

”After a few days, she’ll realize it was us who stopped the Niflgaard people from further ruining her and prevented these houses and her family’s belongings from being burned. Now, before we contract the plague, let’s leave quickly.”

”Dandelion, go get that guy’s boots. They’re about your size, and since you didn’t go in and ’enjoy yourself,’ you won’t have to complain about how unsuitable your party shoes are here.”

The seasoned White Wolf quickly handled everything in an orderly fashion.

They chose the horses Lann had brought over during the surprise attack and also took the twenty horses from the Niflgaard scouts.

It looked somewhat like a small cavalry from afar.

Ciri now realized that the ’giant’ who had helped them was actually someone she knew—Lann.

She struggled to ride a smaller horse, occasionally sneaking glances at the now much larger Lann and subtly moved closer to him.

The rather matured little princess opened her mouth several times, but before she could speak, Lann interrupted her.

Good news: Lann was still the good friend she knew, unchanged by his giant-like size.

Bad news: This guy, like before... easily saw through her!

”You want to greet me first, but unfortunately... what you should do now isn’t talk to me, and you know it yourself, don’t you?”

Lann glanced at the little girl with ash-gray hair and smiled as he spoke.