Astartes of the Bear School

Chapter 581 582. It should be possible, right?

As the witchers returned here, they were faced with a dirty yellow tent.

Many people in this dark forest barely opened their eyes or struggled to stand up.

Pairs of eyes were watching them. There were old and young, male and female in the crowd.

There were people wearing Cintra clothes, there were Skellige people wearing tattered furs stained with blood and scabs, and Temerians with the emblem of Bai Baihe on their clothes.

There was trust and dependence in their eyes, but also uneasiness and panic.

The former is mainly given to Geralt and Gerd, while the latter is given to Lan En.

Until Gede stood up and explained what he had said once before: "This is a friend from my classmate. He is here to help me."

After that, Lan En cooperated and pulled the roaring bear head emblem around his neck out of the bearskin collar of his armor and showed it to them.

Then Geralt, Gerd, Dandelion, and even Ciri walked among these people and said some useless words to them, such as 'Are you okay?' and 'Have you eaten today?' .

Then the panic in these people's eyes slowly disappeared in these seemingly meaningless conversations.

Lan En's handsome face, which usually attracts attention wherever he goes, and his silver hair that shines like an elf, will definitely not attract more attention here than Gerd, the bearded uncle, or Geralt, the dead face. More attention-grabbing.

They are much more dazzling than Lan En at this moment. They are the focus of everyone here.

The refugees cast their eyes full of hope and hope on the two demon hunters.

Nowhere else would a witcher have been looked at like this.

"I'll bet a thousand orens that Gede wasn't so nervous when he was fighting the bat-winged brain demon."

Lann whispered to Dandelion beside him.

Compared to the two demon hunters, the poet and the little girl were obviously much freer.

He separated a section of the blanket on Dandelion's shoulders and covered Ciri's head next to him.

"This group of people are displaced and have no hope of survival in the process."

"They are not like soldiers. They have been trained, know how to use weapons and armor, and know how to form an organization. They are scattered and weak. In this world, they can only drift with the waves like water plants in the river."

"They can't even believe in themselves, because they also know that they are weak. So they can only believe in others, stronger people. And all they can do is actually believe."

The poet spoke to Lan En in a rare tone that was no longer glib or showy.

"Geralt and Gerd are 'capable' people in their eyes, and they are probably the few people in this refugee group who really care about them, so these people choose to believe them."

"Although we all know that the demon hunters can't actually deal with a few Nilfgaardian soldiers, but... let's just give them a thought."

It's dark and foggy, and words coming out of your mouth at this time will bring out precious heat.

But these refugees still whispered "Master" and "Master Witcher" when facing Gerd and Geralt.

There are emotions in those whispers, and people's fear, helplessness, and dependence are all conveyed through these voices, pressing on the demon hunter.

The two demon hunters, who could face the daytime demons calmly, couldn't help but take deep breaths to calm their minds and spirits.

There was nothing on them to give the refugees, no food to fill their bellies, and no clothes to protect them from the cold.

But it seems that just by talking, they also gave these refugees some invisible support.

After walking into the tent, Lan En looked at Gede who was sitting on the ground with his knees propped up, and suddenly asked.

"You didn't tell them my name because you didn't want me to get stuck here. But..."

"Gede, where are you?"

"You, can you still leave when you should leave?"

In the lightless darkness, Geralt was arranging Ciri to sleep. His hand covering the quilt froze for a moment, then returned to normal.

Dandelion seemed not to hear anything, wrapped in a blanket and playing with the lute he had placed in the tent.

"able."

The bearded witcher wiped his face blankly.

"It should be possible, right?"

Lan En said nothing more.

——

Early the next morning, everyone in the tent woke up and found that they were leaning against Lan En without knowing it.

The warmth of his body attracts people who sleep at night.

When you wake up in the morning, the first thing everyone sees is the hot breath wafting from their nostrils or mouth.

It can leave your hair and face wet and cold.

After a little tidying up, the three demon hunters took advantage of the dim sky and left the grove.

This is a hunt for that special force, and the opponents are all top-notch players.

In addition, the decisiveness shown by Haxor last night at least convinced Geralt that he would not do anything bad to Ciri at this stage.

So Dandelion and the mouse-grey haired girl remained in the camp.

Geralt and Gerd were riding horses, but their shoulder height was no more than that of Lan, who was walking on the ground.

"You two have met those special forces, right? Give me a description. It can be considered as some information."

Gerd and Geralt sighed together on their horses and frowned deeply.

It seems that he thought of his opponent's difficult appearance.

"I can't say that I have met him before." Geralt said slowly in a magnetic and deep voice.

"The two of us sneak attacked one of their teams, four of them."

"Ged and I had just rushed out from a group of Cintra rebels before that, and we each drank a bottle of [Thunder] for this."

"At that time, the four men dismounted from their horses to urinate. The two of us used meditation techniques to slow down our heartbeats and breathing, and then suddenly jumped off their heads and hacked them, killing two of them on the spot."

"But even if there are only enough people left for a duel, they are not easy to mess with. The gap in my mouth was left after accidentally stumbling in front of my opponent. If I had to choose, I would rather Against a dozen regular Nilfgaardian soldiers.”

"They are different from those slow-moving soldiers. They wear leather armor or medium-weight armor instead of heavy full-body armor. Their movements are fast and accurate, and the calluses on their hands must be at least as good as those who have practiced swordsmanship for decades. .”

"Sounds like an old swordsman who has been in the market for more than ten years?"

Lan En expressed his judgment.

Gede added next to him: "Not only an old swordsman, but also a ruthless old mercenary."

"Those guys get joy out of torturing people, pure joy. This twisted state of mind is all too familiar to me."

"I don't know what kind of devil could bring these guys together."