Bear School Astartes

Continuous stealthy movement is inherently a very difficult task for these Sintra refugees, whose bodies and minds are already pushed to the limits.

But only after these few days of action did they realize that the anxiety-ridden journey was, in fact, a rare stability in these tumultuous times.

On a frosty, windy dawn, the sound of Stuart’s horse hooves echoed once again.

He brought with him terrible but expected bad news.

”Ahead of us, there’s an estate.”

The young knight spoke calmly as ever, but now his eyes were bloodshot, and his unshaven appearance was starkly contrasting with his demeanor.

In these few days, the scouts led by Stuart have been the most exhausted and at risk, and he himself never skipped a shift nor missed any recon missions.

”Continue,”

said Hacksaw with a smile.

Lann watched from the side, suddenly feeling that this man’s smile held something more... anticipation, and relief?

Was it an illusion?

And the young knight seemed oblivious, simply continuing his narration.

”A militarized estate, which originally was a vineyard used for winemaking, now seems to have been transformed by the Niflgaard people into a small checkpoint for rest along a patrol route.”

”Seems?”

”I dared not get too close; the estate has at least two to three hundred Niflgaard soldiers stationed there rotationally.”

The mention of this enemy number dropped a solemn silence in the air.

It was a number enough to massacre this group of refugees.

”Go around! Before they discover us!”

Immediately, someone proposed this.

But it was quickly met with opposition.

”Go around? Where would we go around to now? Haven’t you taken this route before?”

The borders are not easy to cross, especially with such a large group.

Lann could sneak into Sintra from anywhere without drawing any attention, simply because he was alone and resourceful; he could take any route.

But for the refugee group, with nearly a thousand people, their daily need for fresh water alone pretty much restricted their route options.

After all, those water sources are only located in certain places.

So the border guards of various countries only needed to deploy forces along the necessary routes.

These border checkpoints were not meant to stop solitary roamers like Lann; they couldn’t stop them, nor did they need to.

”If we turn back now, it’ll take us at least another month to find an exit! Would we still have enough scouts during that time? In just these few days, we’ve already lost nearly ten scouts, both men, and horses!”

Another officer chimed in agreement: ”The food supply won’t last another month.”

”And most importantly...” Finally, Hacksaw ended with a subtle tone.

”Beyond this estate, we probably only need a little over a day to exit Sintra’s borders.”

As soon as this sentence fell, the atmosphere subtly changed.

In this war’s gruesome mud pit, staying even an extra minute felt maddening.

Detouring, extending the journey by over a month.

But behind this estate, it’s just a mere day... just one day!

People are inherently greedy and hopeful.

What if they could rush past? What if... it wasn’t them who would die?

Bringing over so many refugees, wasn’t it precisely with this thought?

”Then...” someone licked their lips, a gleam of hope flickering in their eyes as they tentatively looked around at the others. ”Why don’t we give it a try?”

”Everyone’s had enough of detours!”

”It’s the scouts’ fault for guiding us wrong; we’ve come this far, whoever wants to live has to make a final stand!”

As blame was shifted to the scouts, the last psychological restraint was lifted.

Conclusively, everyone began agreeing with the resolution in a cacophony of voices.

”It’s virtually impossible to sneak past under the nose of that temporary garrison, everyone.”

Striking the ground with his iron staff, Hacksaw fell silent for a while.

”Distribute the weapons and equipment to everyone who can wield them.”

”Whether we succeed or not, whether we live or die, depends on this final attempt.”

Everyone agreed and dispersed.

Their eager emotions seemed contagious, as within a short time, news of ’almost having made it out’ and ’being safe soon’ began to spread throughout the refugee group.

Hacksaw himself, however, stood motionless in his tent.

His son stood beside him, facing someone’s scrutiny.

Lann’s slightly narrowed cat eyes swept up and down over the father and son.

”Tell me, Hacksaw... what are you really thinking?”

”To arm a group of refugees who are nearly drained of energy? Plus that boy behind you who keeps recording tirelessly.”

Lann approached them, looking down with a serious expression.

”You’re making me think you want to use these refugees as cannon fodder to execute a brilliant breakout battle for yourself.”

The massive physique exuded immense pressure.

A normal person should be like the quivering young scribe behind Hacksaw, shaking with fear.

But Hacksaw and his son remained calm.

”I never thought of gaining heroic accomplishments through these refugees, Master Bordeaux.”

Hacksaw spoke softly.

”Never thought of it that way. You know very well yourself that if you want to escape from the war zone, you’ll eventually have to face the Niflgaard forces, sooner or later. And we’ve tried hard to postpone this encounter to the very last resort... which is now.”

Stuart also calmly said, ”I can vouch for it with my honor, Master.”

”The scouts head out each time with their lives on the line. I’m the one leading them, and I can swear that our reconnaissance has been as comprehensive and far-reaching as possible. The current outcome is the ’best’ we could achieve.”

After speaking, the young knight gazed directly into the eyes of the Demon Hunter without flinching.

”We’re just a group of ants maneuvering through the cracks of the battlefield, Master. The paths we can take... have never been numerous. Even if you wield a sword against my neck, I can say without shame: we’ve done our best.”

”I know your skills, Lann,” Hacksaw said abruptly and bluntly broke the tacit understanding between him and the Demon Hunter.

”But you should understand, saving lives is different in difficulty from taking them, isn’t it?”

The former Royal Steward of Sintra said, deep and low.

”This is a group of over a thousand people, even if you defeat those in the estate, so what? Scattered Niflgaard soldiers will still kill, kill widely; can you stop them all? Can you handle it alone?”

”In chaotic times and chaotic armies... these refugees I’ve led all the way need to organize and empower themselves to fight out of this mire!”

”People... when all is said and done.”

”Can only save themselves!”