The Witcher: Astartes Of The Bear School

Chapter 41: Behold the Power of the Bear!

When Lan returned to Oreton on Popeye, the villagers didn't greet him with the urgency or suspicion he had anticipated. They didn't question whether he had abandoned his mission halfway. He had already earned their trust, especially after solving the desecration case. His reputation in Velen had grown, and it was well-deserved. Fergus's willingness to confess during their second meeting was a testament to this growing reputation.

Villains might live alone, but good men gain many friends. Lan's goal was to be a good man in this world. Seeing the villagers' smiling faces as he returned, he felt he was indeed on the right path.

"Yes, sir, you're on the right track, but I still suggest you don't sing while riding," the voice in his head advised. Before the voice could finish, Lan's mind silenced it.

"Hi, Old Allen. I'm back." Dismounting from Popeye, Lan greeted the village elder at the entrance.

"Ha! Our hero who upholds the goddess has returned!" Old Allen, puffing on his pipe, walked over with a smile and stood before Lan.

"'Hero who upholds the goddess'?" Lan led Popeye towards the abandoned wooden house. "Are you talking about me? A witcher?"

Old Allen followed, shaking his head nonchalantly. "Whether you're a witcher or not, the goddess teaches us to spread love. We might have been influenced by rumors and prejudices before, but now, if we don't acknowledge your achievement in catching the cannibal because you're a witcher, we wouldn't deserve to call ourselves her followers!"

Old Allen looked quite well. Upon inquiring, Lan learned that the villagers hadn't been idle in his absence. Guided by Bernie, they had started expanding their fishing grounds to the waters Lan had cleared. Although Lan hadn't worked for long, the territory of a group of drowners was quite extensive. 

As a result, Oreton's fishing grounds had expanded by nearly a fifth. Expansion meant more catches and more income. Lan's vision was gradually becoming a reality. The tangible benefits in their pockets were the most convincing proof. This made the villagers of the fishing village even more fond of the young witcher.

Lan, in turn, missed the carefree life in Oreton. Since arriving in this world, he had been responsible for his own food and drink, albeit only for a day in Gors Velen. Before that, he had been half-fed with Bordon, and then seamlessly transitioned to Oreton's free food and lodging.

But that one day had made the eighteen-year-old witcher realize the hardships of life. Damn it, paying for food! It felt like with every bite, he was eating into his own flesh!

The higher the sense of crisis, the more people yearn to save. Since arriving in this world, Lan's sense of crisis had been off the charts. So, every Oren that slipped from his pocket made his heart bleed. The night he slept at the Silver Heron, Lan clutched his money bag to his chest.

Seeing Old Allen again, he felt his eyes moisten. The old man's wife's cooking wasn't great, and the bed in the house wasn't comfortable, but the food and lodging were free!

"Hey! Lan, you're back!"

As he approached the village tavern, Bernie's voice came from the window. Sitting at a wooden table, his bandages looked like they had been changed several times. He waved and picked up his cup without any hesitation. He should be mostly healed.

Lan waved back with one hand while holding Popeye's reins with the other. "Bernie, any issues starting tomorrow?"

"Ah-ha! My bones are getting rusty. See you at the port early tomorrow."

That settled the plan for tomorrow's hunt.

***

Life returned to a stable state, eating and sleeping in Old Allen's warm home. Then, early in the morning, entering Lake Fyke with Bernie to slaughter drowners.

With a full set of Bear School armor, Lan could try fighting in a more ferocious and efficient manner.

On the muddy tidal flat, a hand in a spiked leather glove spread wide, covering a drowner's skull. Amidst the bone-chilling sounds of flesh and bone twisting, the drowner's screams, the hand holding the skull actually lifted the drowner off the ground. Then, it was thrown forward and smashed down.

"Behold the Power of the Bear!" The drowner's head deformed like mud in the witcher's hand as he roared in exhilaration.

The jumping attacks of two drowners in front were completely blocked by the "meat shield."

Quen? What Quen! Like a charging chariot, he rushed forward with the "meat shield."

With the armor and the swords and his body, the combined weight was nearly 150 kilograms, completely overwhelming the drowner's weight. Three or four drowners in the way were knocked askew just by the brush. Although they weren't directly knocked over, the force to push three or four humanoid monsters aside was far from normal.

Finally, the "meat shield" hit the water hag's mud ball, directly smashing into her wrinkled and warty body.

The water hag had just drilled into the muddy ground and re-emerged from a different direction. She couldn't understand how she had been hit in the face as soon as she appeared. The water hag's weight wasn't light, at least not enough to be directly knocked over by Lan.

She screamed "Wah!" and prepared to use her arm's length advantage to bypass the enemy's "meat shield" and tear out his heart with claws. But in reality, the "meat shield's" purpose had already been achieved as it neared the water hag.

"Swish!" The sound of cutting through the air, accompanied by a cold silver light. Even the low-intelligence water hag felt a chill from the bottom of her heart.

Unable to comprehend what was happening, she could only scream and let fear make her claws faster and more vicious. But it was too late.

"Too late, idiot."

The speaker was Bernie, standing outside the battlefield. He no longer carried a bow. Instead, learning from previous lessons, he had asked the blacksmith Ivan for a Velen longsword. Standing farther away, he had a clearer view.

"Tsk, tsk, what a sword technique." No matter how many times he saw it, Bernie felt he would always be compelled to make such a remark.

In the distance, Lan held the "meat shield's" head in his left hand, smashing it into the water hag's face. But his right hand loosely gripped his silver sword. Before the water hag could react and reach him with her claws, the silver sword, following the flow of Lan's body's center of gravity, drew an exceptionally smooth arc. It looked like Lan was swinging a silver whip.

The whip seemed to cut through flesh and bone without any resistance. Cutting through both monsters' bodies as if slicing through butter. Even from a distance, seeing the gushing blood made Bernie feel as if he could hear the sound of blood flowing.

Lan's "meat shield" had its neck and left shoulder severed, and the water hag, due to the height difference, was left with only her lower jaw. Bernie thought that was because Lan's sword had cut in and out through the cheekbones and jaw gap, creating a clean wound.

The remaining battle wasn't worth watching. Bernie felt that in the eyes of the monsters, he and Lan were the real "monsters."

***

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