Astartes of the Bear School

Chapter 305 304. Entering the Forest
"Aha, what a pity. I heard that Fanier of the Brugge court is a great beauty."

Brugge, like Verden, is a country bordering the Great Forest of Brokleon.Geralt and Lann were riding on the road outside the forest.

For some reason, the milky-white-haired witcher had a bit of sarcasm in his tone, but there was also a little jealousy in the sarcasm?
"It's always like this, Geralt, you've been acting weird since you found out about my partnership with Aretuza. I'm their long-term hired witcher, and I'm here to work! Every witch goes to bed!"

Lan En looked suspiciously at the seniors around him.

"I said you are so sensitive, maybe you have been hurt by a witch"

Having said that, the young man judged decisively that he should end this topic based on his senior's expression.

Geralt's face now smells like the shit of his horse Carrot.

Lan En was in a hurry to make amends, so he wanted to brag about the old man.

"Hey Geralt, there's nothing good about witches. A witcher lives a free life. Witches are just more respected in society, have more money, are more beautiful, and have more magic power, uh."

After talking for a long time, Lan En found that Geralt's face was becoming more and more ugly, and then the young man himself got stuck.

"Just do me a favor, Lane." Geralt's voice sounded like he was gritting his teeth, squeezing them out. "Can we run quietly for a while?"

"...You have the final say, Boss."

The young man who knew that he had broken the defense immediately went down the slope.
-
Geralt is the kind of person who looks cold-faced and tough on the surface, but in fact, he is a bit fragile and sensitive in his heart.

Based on the old witcher's expression just now, Lan En judged that this guy must have been emotionally hurt by the sorceress.

And the reason for this injury is probably because his self-esteem was stung when interacting with the sorceress.

Demon hunters are people who are discriminated against. Lan En didn't feel much because he had only been a demon hunter for a few months, and then he made a name for himself.

Farmers despised him and would not take him seriously.The nobles, who knew what he was capable of, had no reason to despise him.

So even though Lan En often stayed in the sorceress's college, he didn't feel that he was inferior.

The knowledge and fighting power of female sorceress apprentices dare not look at his face in class!
In addition to being relatively poor, he even felt that the sorceress was a little politically immature.

In this way, he is the one with a sense of superiority.

But for Geralt, maintaining a romantic relationship with a female sorceress all year round will put him under psychological pressure and worry about gains and losses.

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

If Geralt didn't want to talk about it, they wouldn't.

Lan En couldn't discuss himself as a standard sample of a demon hunter. He knew that he was different from these peers.

He has always known.

After walking for another morning from the city of Brugge, the two demon hunters came to the edge entrance of the Brokleon Great Forest again.

They couldn't simply rush into the forest directly, they came to find the great master of the wolf school.

They have to find the right trace before they can follow it.

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

That corpse was not surprising, just like the farmer that Lan En once saw on the side of the road and was shot and killed by the dryads.

A very young boy.

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

The dryads' bows were still accurate, but patience seemed to be fading fast.

"Vesemir will not bring ordinary people into Brokleon, but this is indeed his entry point."

Geralt picked up a handful of dirt from the side of the corpse and sniffed it, the pupils in the cat's eyes dilated.Lan En knew that he had activated the witcher's senses.

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

"It's not the Brugge badge on this man's clothes, but the Verdon badge."

"The news that Verdon wants to push the forest line inward seems to have made the dryads angry. Now they even have one less shot to warn them away."

"The situation will intensify as the war actually begins. But it has nothing to do with us, the witchers have always been neutral. We just hunt monsters."

The old-school witcher upholds the old-school thinking. Geralt got up from a half-squatting position, held the sword on his back, and walked into the forest.

Lane followed behind.

This was the mode of action they had agreed upon: Geralt was familiar with his teacher's tracks and was responsible for tracking them down.And Lane is responsible for fending off danger in his twisted vision that unlocks the witcher's senses.

It was the second time for Lan En to enter this dense and prosperous forest since ancient times, but he didn't seem to be very nervous about Geralt.

"I have been here a few times, and I have lived in this dryad city in the 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 dryad and nymph put down The hostility towards us is an interesting phenomenon, right?"

Geralt explained flatly.

"You're still too young, Lann. When you live longer, you will naturally have relationships with many long-lived creatures."

"Okay, okay, build up relationships. It seems that in places where there are intelligent creatures, this method is always easy to use."

Lan En responded casually, while splitting the shrubs and dead branches blocking the way with the long and beautifully curved knife in his hand.

During the day, Brokleon under the sun is more vibrant than at night, with a wild and unrestrained vitality.

Even in winter, the evergreen trees can still starve the understory of the forest from sunlight, and woodpeckers peck at the trunk, eager to find a few frozen bugs.The grouse twittered all the time.

Brokleon is alive and well.

But neither of the two witchers let down their vigilance, because they both still remembered the corpse of the boy whose skull had been nailed through the eye sockets, and the carnivorous ants that had already crawled on the boy's eyelids.

All the way to the interior of the forest, they encountered several corpses one after another.

If it weren't for the steel sword and armor on the corpses reflecting the cold light of metal, the two demon hunters wouldn't even be able to spot them from the dense lichen in the forest.

On their shields or on their clothes, Verdon's black and yellow checkered shield pattern is printed.

Apart from the part where the arrow pierced into the flesh, there were no more stains or damage on the clothes, which was enough to tell that this group of people were not ordinary servants or soldiers.

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

With a swipe of Lan En's hand, the dense and swaying branches and leaves in front of him were all cut in a smooth incision in an instant.

Geralt, who had the sense of a witcher, saw the swordplay so that the corners of his mouth twitched.

He was a little suspicious that Arethusa had enchanted a new type of rune on the elven long knife.

At the same time, Lann, who had finished swinging the knife, and Geralt, who was squatting halfway, raised their heads at the same time, looking in one direction.

"Is it my illusion?"

"No, I heard that too."

Two pairs of cat eyes look at each other. The abundant xylem in the forest is the best natural sound-absorbing material. Even a witcher will wonder if he is hallucinating here.

But the answers obtained by comparing the two people with each other are probably not wrong.

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

Lane had heard it once on the night he entered Brokleon, and it was the ancient tongue spoken by the dryads.

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(End of this chapter)