Astartes of the Bear School

Chapter 305 304. Entering the forest

"Aha, what a pity. I heard that Fanel from Brugge's court is a great beauty."

Brugg, like Verden, is a country adjacent to the Brokleon Forest. Geralt and Lan were riding horses on the road outside the forest.

I don’t know why, but the cream-white-haired demon hunter’s tone was a little sarcastic, but was there a little bit of jealousy in the sarcasm?

"It's always like this, Geralt, you've been acting weird ever since you found out about my partnership with Arethusa. I'm their long-term witcher, and I'm there to do work! It's not like I'm going to be with someone from the academy. Fuck every witch!”

Lan En looked at the senior next to him suspiciously.

"I said you are so sensitive. Could it be that you have been hurt by a witch?"

At this point, the young man judged decisively from the look on his senior's face that he should end this topic.

Geralt's face now looks as stinky as the shit of his horse named Carrot.

Lan En was anxious to make amends, so he thought of blowing off the old man.

"Hey Geralt, there's nothing good about witches. Witchers live a free life. Witches are just more respected in society, have more money, are prettier, have stronger magic powers, uh..."

After talking for a long time, Lan En found that Geralt's face was getting more and more ugly, and then the young man himself became stuck in his words.

"Just do me a favor, Lan." Geralt's voice sounded like he was gritting his teeth and squeezing out from between his teeth. "Can we run in peace for a while?"

"You have the final say, boss."

The young man who knew that he had broken the guard immediately got off the donkey along the slope.

——

Geralt is the kind of person who looks cold-faced and tough on the outside, but in his heart, he is a bit fragile and sensitive.

Lan En judged based on the old demon hunter's expression just now that this guy probably suffered emotional trauma from the sorceress.

And the reason for this injury is probably because his pride was stung when he was interacting with the sorceress.

Demon hunters are a group of people who are discriminated against. Lan En doesn't feel much about it because he has only been a demon hunter for a few months and then he became famous.

The farmers despised him and would not take him seriously. And the nobles who knew what he could do had no reason to despise him.

So even though Lan En often stayed in the sorceress's academy, he didn't feel like he was inferior to others.

Knowledge, combat prowess The sorceress apprentices didn’t dare to look at his face in class!

Despite being relatively poor, he even felt that the sorceress was a bit politically naive.

In this way, he is the one with the superiority complex.

But for Geralt, being in a relationship with a sorceress for many years would put him under psychological pressure and worry about gains and losses.

It is not difficult to imagine a passionate and painful love.

If Geralt doesn't want to talk, then they won't talk.

Lann couldn't discuss himself as a standard sample of witchers. He knew that he was different from his peers.

He always knew.

After walking for another morning from Brugg City, the two demon hunters came to the edge of the Brok Leon Forest again.

They couldn't simply head into the forest directly. They came to find the great master of the Wolf School.

They have to find the right traces and then follow them in.

The traces were quickly found. At noon, they discovered the first body.

The corpse was not surprising, just like the farmer Lan En had seen on the roadside who was shot by the tree spirits.

He is a very young boy.

Six and three steps away from the corpse, each had an arrow from a pheasant tail feather inserted into it, while the third arrow that should have been shot at the feet was directly inserted into the eye socket of the corpse.

The dryads' bows and arrows were still accurate, but their patience seemed to be disappearing quickly.

"Vesemir wouldn't lead an ordinary person into Broklon, but this is his entry point."

Geralt picked up a handful of dirt from the side of the body and smelled it, the pupils in the cat's eyes contracting uncontrollably. Lan En knew that he had activated his demon hunter senses.

The young man glanced at the body and expressed his judgment.

"The one on this man's clothes is not the Brugger emblem, but the Verdon emblem."

"The news that Verdon wants to push the forest edge further in seems to have made the dryads angry. They now have less than one shot to warn them away."

"The situation will intensify as the war really begins. But this has nothing to do with us. Witchers have always been neutral. We just hunt monsters."

The old-school witcher adheres to the old-school ideas. Geralt stood up from a squatting position, put the sword on his back, and walked into the forest.

Lan followed behind.

This is the action pattern they agreed on: Geralt is familiar with his teacher's traces and is responsible for tracking them. Lann is responsible for fending off danger in his distorted vision that activates the witcher's senses.

This was Lan En's second time entering this forest that had been dense and prosperous since ancient times during the day, but he saw that Geralt didn't seem too nervous.

"I have been here several times, and I have lived in the dryad city in this forest for a while, and Vesemir is the same. Humans don't regard us as the same kind, but this contempt and rejection made the dryads and nymphs let go. The hostility towards us is an interesting phenomenon, isn’t it?”

Geralt explained calmly.

"You are still too young, Lan En. When you live longer, you will naturally have relationships with many long-lived creatures."

"Okay, okay, let's accumulate interpersonal relationships. It seems that this method is always useful in places with intelligent creatures."

Lan En responded casually, while using the long knife with a graceful arc to split the shrubs and dead branches blocking the road.

During the day, Broccolion in the sun is more vibrant than at night, with a wild and unfettered vitality.

Even in winter, the evergreen trees can still starve the understory of the forest of sunlight, and woodpeckers peck at the trunks eager to find a few frozen bugs. The grouse were twittering incessantly.

Brock Leon is full of life.

But neither of the two demon hunters relaxed their vigilance, because they both still remembered the corpse of a boy whose skull was nailed through the eye socket, and the carnivorous ants that had crawled on the boy's eyelids.

As they moved toward the interior of the forest, they encountered several corpses one after another.

If it weren't for the cold metallic light reflected from the steel swords and armor plates on the corpses, the two demon hunters wouldn't even be able to spot them among the dense lichen in the forest.

Their shields or clothes are all printed with Verdon's black and yellow checkered coat of arms.

Except for the part where the arrow penetrated the flesh, there were no more stains or damage on the clothes, which was enough to show that these people were not ordinary servants or soldiers.

"There are already seven bodies, they should have no survivors."

Lan En made a smooth stroke, and the branches and leaves in front of him that were dense and swaying in the cold wind, and seemed to be weak and weak, were all cut out with a smooth cut in an instant.

That swordsmanship made Geralt, who had the witcher's senses activated, twitching at the corner of his mouth.

He had some doubts that Arethusa had enchanted the elf sword with a new type of rune.

At the same time, Lan En, who had finished swinging his sword, and Geralt, who was half-crouching, raised their heads at the same time and looked in one direction.

"Is it my imagination?"

"No, I heard it too."

The two pairs of cat eyes looked at each other. The abundant xylem in the forest was the best natural sound-absorbing material. Even a demon hunter would wonder if he was hearing something.

But the answers obtained by the two people comparing each other are probably correct.

In their ears, not far away, there was a powerful old voice shouting something in an unintelligible language.

Lan En had heard it once during the night when he entered Broklon. It was the ancient language spoken by the dryads.

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