Bear School Astartes

”Hello, boss.”

Darkley first greeted the innkeeper.

The Sintra Family, however, showed a reserved and resistant expression. Although they bowed in return, it was clearly insincere.

Strangely enough, in the past, when Darkley had no official position, if conditions allowed, he would decapitate the innkeeper and have his way with the innkeeper’s wife or daughter when passing such an inn.

Afterward, he would kill them and set the inn on fire.

But after becoming a commander, he instead began to enjoy playing by the rules.

Just like now, not only did he refrain from cutting the innkeeper’s throat with the dagger in his boot, but he also didn’t question him excessively.

Instead, he always wore a smile that was soothing and comforting.

Though he occasionally sighed to himself.

Ah, if only policies didn’t forbid... Taking a group of thugs to neighboring countries to plunder and burn—wouldn’t it be just like the good old days of youth... Ah, if only policies allowed, how wonderful that would be!

Darkley’s eyes swept over his subordinates he had brought.

Andres Verne, a mass killer from the north of Redania. Stigward, a pirate and defector from the Skellig Islands. Dade Vargas, a ruthless assassin, no one knows where he came from.

The names of these people didn’t matter; after all, Darkley wouldn’t have bothered remembering these scum if it weren’t for expanding his connections to recruit manpower.

They were all similar, as if carved from the same mold.

This wasn’t referring to their appearance, but their actions, expressions, aura... and so on.

Once someone has killed more than five people, there’s no difference.

The same actions, the same gestures, the same speech, behavior, attire, and temper. And the same gaze, silent and cold, devoid of vitality, yet as calm as a serpent.

Even when committing atrocities, their expressions wouldn’t change in the slightest.

And the ability to gather this group of skilled, ruthless killers was what made Darkley valued by prominent figures!

Darkley, bored, dealt with the innkeeper couple’s perfunctory greetings, and casually gestured to those behind him.

Finally, a woman from the five-member team turned around with a light laugh, feigning interest in the shabby, filthy decor of the countryside inn.

Joanna Selburni.

A beautiful lady classified as a Type One Spiritual Master by the Empire.

Spiritual Master was the Empire’s term for individuals born with supernatural mental abilities.

Being a Type One Spiritual Master meant Joanna possessed telepathy, mental commands, and foresight while under hypnosis. However, she lacked the ability to affect the material world through telekinesis.

Her whites of the eyes started expanding, compressing the pupils until they were nearly invisible.

An invisible spiritual force seeped into the innkeeper couple’s minds, passing through the scalp, skull, and cerebral cortex...

At this moment, if it were a wizard, demon hunter, or someone else with chaos magic power, they would distinctly feel the sensation of a foreign object invading the mind.

Skilled, experienced individuals could even easily counter it.

But unfortunately, the innkeeper couple were just ordinary people. They didn’t even notice their memories being perused.

No bloodshed, not even fighting or threats.

In the innkeeper’s eyes, Darkley merely brought people to make a round and left without any entanglement.

When they got outside, the five of them each mounted a horse and began trotting along the main road. Only then did Darkley speak to Joanna.

”So, what did you see?”

The Spiritual Master, unconcerned, wiped away the two lines of nosebleed with her elbow.

”Not much value. The two of them first encountered a local gang that day, then our people arrived. The gang didn’t get along with him, so he drew his sword and cut them all down.”

Darkley nodded, indicating there was no issue.

He was well aware of the level of his recruits.

Taking on multiple opponents without heavy armor was something almost legendary for common folks, but for his subordinates, it was just standard performance.

”Following that, the couple was confined to a small room the entire time. The only information they could provide was sound.”

”In their impression, there was laughter and banter outside at first, then it seemed two people arrived, and after a silence, the sound of fighting erupted.”

”Just two people?”

”Just two people.”

Darkley frowned as he confirmed with Joanna, receiving an affirmative response.

”And those two, when clashing with our people, produced a torrent of blade-on-blade sounds like raindrops. Their swords were vicious and quick.”

”That shouldn’t be,” Darkley shook his head. ”Even if they really encountered two demon hunters, so what? There’s a warlock in the team, right? The tricks of demon hunters are just farts that won’t even blow in front of a warlock. How did they manage to deal with three skilled swordsmen?”

”That’s something I’m not sure about. That’s all the innkeeper knows, and I’ve said everything.”

Joanna shrugged.

”If you ask me,” the Skellige strongman behind them chipped in, grinning, ”why not just catch up and take a look?”

”Our people were taken down after dealing with a few rats out to gather supplies, meaning the two demon hunters aren’t traveling alone. They’re definitely trying to flee Sintra with others. Give me the map and the action records, and I can guess which way they’ll head next.”

After listening, Darkley turned on his steed to face the strongman, sizing him up.

This was him recalling the man’s background.

This fellow used to participate in the Empire’s suppression of rebellion in Nasser and was once part of the Jemolan suppressive forces.

Ah, what a ruthless and creative group of skilled hands they were.

”Can you guarantee your guess is right? Can you intercept them ahead?”

”It’s simple, sir,” the strongman grinned, revealing bloody red gums.

”Refugees don’t have many choices, they can only pick the least bad option in the already dead-end squeeze. And these choices... are obvious to me.”

With the strongman’s statement, Darkley slapped his thigh, making a decision.

”Then it’s in your hands. Block those two and let me see what they’re worth.”

His eyes revealed a look like selecting dishes at a meal.

”Lord Vatier has given us so much support. If we don’t deliver a few worth-their-weight heads, I doubt the lord will be pleased.”

And if Vatier was unhappy, Darkley wouldn’t have to bother with being a commander anymore.

Benefitting came with the requirement to prove value.

Darkley was very clear-headed.