Astartes of the Bear School

Chapter 95 95. Waiting for the Rabbit
Berengar hated witchers.

Because he was fed up with the discrimination and suffering brought about by his identity.

Enough of having to confront and fight monsters in the wild to earn food money.

Not everyone is good at fighting, and not everyone has fun fighting swords.Some people just can't handle it.

So he tried his best to hide his identity, even if he worked as a coolie in Vizima, he had to maintain the life of an ordinary person.

His hatred of the witcher largely stems from the fact that he was handed over to the witcher from his parents like a slave.

From now on, I can no longer control my own destiny.

Today, he learned that he once worked for a group of slave traders.

He clearly sensed that there was something weird in that batch of goods, but because he didn't want to cause trouble, he did it anyway.

The betrayal from the moral sense made him feel like vomiting.

He had seen what a slave was like, and because of that, he could now clearly visualize what a group of children would look like.

Humiliation, domestication, loss of dignity, and even loss of cognition as a person.

Like a dog, like a fucking. Mutant him!
Berengar staggered past Lane and flung himself at a tile.

He hammered on the masonry with his bare hands, and at the same time as the blood spattered, he pulled out a sharp steel sword!

"You're looking into this, aren't you?"

The old witcher gritted his teeth and turned to ask Lan En, who was watching.

Two pairs of cat eyes face each other, one is calm and determined, the other is furious and bloodthirsty.

"Take me one."

When Lan En first met, he thought that Berengar's face was a bit long. At this time, he clenched his teeth furiously, and the muscles on both sides of his jaws exploded.

Kind of like a baboon going berserk.

But not even the strongest baboon could kill a warrior with a sword, and Berengar had killed enough men to form a large village.

"If you go out with a sword like this now, you will be beaten up by the security forces and thrown into a prison in less than an hour, or hacked to death on the spot. You are blinded by anger, old man."

A hundred-year-old witcher talks to a teenage witcher, but the younger one seems to be an experienced veteran.

Lan folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe of Berengar's house.

The opponent's palm holding the hilt was still bleeding, but the opponent didn't seem to feel it at all, instead he kept holding the hilt with a "creak" sound.

"Now is the search stage before hunting monsters. You should be familiar with it, right? At this stage, long swords are useless."

"Besides, you're a runaway from your profession. I'm not saying there's something wrong with your morals, because I don't think it's unforgivable not to want to be a witcher. But to be honest, I can't say Trust in your courage on the battlefield."

"You don't dare to face the minions of monsters, so you fled the profession of a witcher, but do you dare to face the glaring knife points, arrows, and war hammers? The enemy's power is huge. If we get scared and run away, we will do too much damage."

"so."

Lane straightened from the doorframe, shaking his head at the panting Berengar.

"Forget about it, man. You gave me information, and you didn't know enough to work for them. Just keep being your normal guy."

After that, Lan En opened the door behind him and walked out.

This is a backward era, and human beings have a cruel way of living because of the cruel environment.But at the same time, the ancient era also had simple morality that modern people cannot understand.

Berengar's rage and remorse for the slave trade did not conflict with his own low moral standards.

"Unfortunately, if it wasn't for 'deserters', there would be more helpers."

Putting on the hood, Lan En shook his head while walking to the depths of the temple area.

There are too many people in the big warehouse now, so it's best to wait until nightfall.

But in the room behind him, Berengar's furious and annoyed expression didn't lessen in the slightest.

He pulled out the scabbard from under the floor tiles he had broken, put the long sword back into the scabbard, but did not put it back.

Instead, he pulled out a whole set of light leather armor with the leather strap of the potion set
He worked for the traffickers when he was already aware of half of it. When Berengar thought of the timber he had transported, several young children were terrified and helpless and buried in it.

His hands are shaking!
His moral sense is pricking his heart.

"People of the Wolf School always have such cumbersome things! Vesemir, look what you have taught!"

While Berengar spurned his own morality, he prepared to wait until nightfall and rush to the big warehouse where the goods were delivered.

He agrees with Lane.

Lan En has already said that the opponent's power is huge, so avoiding detection is the key.

Berengar's cat's eyes seemed to be on fire.

He took out the whetstone and slowly began to sharpen the blade that had not been used for a long time.

Then bottle by bottle to confirm whether the potion on the strap is still usable.

After finishing all the preparatory work, he changed into the leather armor he had worn for combat, knelt and sat on the ground, and entered a state of meditation and adjustment.

Time flies by in a meditative state.

Berengar opened his eyes at the right time at night, and his vertical pupils shone brightly in the dark.

He is the most diligent coolie in Vizima, and he knows the working rules of the storage market better than anyone else.

The Bear School cub might wait until late at night to pass, but he was different.

He knew that this warehouse would be deserted after nine o'clock in the evening, except for rush work and unloading under special circumstances.

"bring it on."

Finally looking at the hut he earned as an ordinary person, Berengar gritted his teeth and walked out the door.

If this matter is not resolved, then every day in this hut will be torture for the rest of his life.

The night in the Temple District is still full of stench. In the chats of the ladies in the trade district, this smell is jokingly called "the stench of poverty" by them.

But a person who has really been to the temple area in the dark knows that the most unbearable thing in the temple area at night is not simply the stench.

The thieves with daggers climbed over the wall and entered the house, and they didn't mind making gestures to passing witnesses.

The gangsters are showing off their power and making loud noises. Except for the workers under their hands who want to save money for tomorrow, they all want to kick the wild dogs when they pass by.

Berengar moved through the darkness, acting far more professionally than Lann had done when he broke into camp in Velen.

For a witcher who was over a hundred years old, his experience alone was a fortune.

He may not be able to beat Lan En in a frontal battle due to his lack of talent in battle for a long time, but he has to talk about these fragmented skill reserves.

He was much stronger than the young witcher.

Skimming the low buildings and climbing over the towering walls, Berengar came to the large warehouse in the temple area without a sound.

He has a good memory and knows exactly where the cargo was unloaded five days ago.

If he didn't have this kind of memory, it would be impossible for him to memorize the hundreds of monster knowledge tomes in Kaer Morhen Fortress.

Turn left and right in the row of warehouse sheds, and then stop.

The wolf sent the demon hunter to look around first, but found no one, then he squatted down and searched carefully.

At that time, the piles of wood had all been removed, and there was not even a little sawdust left.

Berengar was not surprised. After learning about the great power of the opponent, he was still mentally prepared for this.

His nostrils twitched, and he tried hard to find the human scent he had smelled on this land.

But then, there was a crisp sound of "pop"!
A layer of golden magic shield shattered from his body, and what fell to the ground along with the magic debris were two crossbow arrows!

Berengar hadn't fought for so long that his nervous reflexes had waned.

He didn't pull out his sword from behind until the crossbow arrow landed and was staggered by the residual impact.

But that doesn't make sense anymore.

Two crossbow arrows happened to hit the [Quen Seal] at the same time and landed, but there were still eight arrows piercing the air and attacking him!

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(End of this chapter)