The Witcher: Astartes Of The Bear School

Chapter 43: Sudden Change

Lan and Bernie continued their daily routine. The previous night in the tavern, Lan had considered whether to stop White, as his need for white verbena petals wasn't urgent. However, he realized that the area around the village, excluding the forest, was relatively safe, so he let White go about his task.

The two resumed their search for monster traces along the shore of the lake. Lan sat at the bow of the boat, his weight and armor causing the bow to sit lower in the water than Bernie's stern.

Lan was pressing his temples, trying to ease a headache. The previous night had been another "Shaking a cola bottle" kind of night. After nearly half a month of cooperative hunting, Lan's skill in [Tracking] had reached 87% proficiency. This, combined with the witcher's extraordinary senses, made Lan's tracking abilities surpass the limits of ordinary people.

While his knowledge of monsters was still lacking without a teacher, his tracking skills were far from the worst among witchers. With Mentos's computational support, Lan could even replay a week's worth of events at a location in his mind to some extent. He was like Sherlock Holmes.

What concerned Lan the most was the [Surgery] skill, which was crucial for his personal combat upgrade. Thanks to practice on drowners, water hags, and occasionally nekkers and ghouls, the skill had soared to 55% proficiency.

Although the number seemed small, Lan's goal wasn't to become a reliable surgeon. His primary objective was to perform surgery on himself to implant the gene seed into his chest. Stable hands, precise cutting, and suturing were more than sufficient for his goal.

"So... it's just the potion that's missing from the plan," Lan thought, rubbing his face to stay alert.

At that moment, a bump came from beneath the boat, causing it to shake and then stabilize.

"We're here, let's get to work. Didn't you sleep well last night?" Bernie jumped off the boat and began adjusting its position.

"Not really...," Lan grumbled.

The previous day, Bernie had detailed his experience hunting a pack of wolves, explaining how he tracked, identified traces, lured, and separated the wolves. He claimed to have used all his knowledge and ingenuity in that hunt. The atmosphere had been good, and Bernie's enthusiasm led to a detailed recounting.

This detailed explanation triggered Mentos's analysis prompts non-stop. By the time Lan lay down that night, a whopping 20% increase in proficiency flooded in, making him feel more overwhelmed than on the first day.

Their cooperation had become seamless. Bernie, holding his sword hilt, crouched to examine traces. After removing his bandages, he had sewn himself a long leather glove, replacing the one torn by a drowner.

"Over here, let's go," Bernie said, leading them to a group of monsters.

There were no water hags, just four drowners picking at dead fish and crabs on the mudflat. Lan handled these opponents swiftly and efficiently. In a minute, his silver sword pierced the last drowner's mouth, the tip emerging from the back of its head. He didn't bother dissecting the corpse and trudged through the mud to join Bernie. The monster materials from drowners were piling up, and unless there were unusual deformities or diseases, they contributed little to the [Surgery] skill's proficiency.

"Let's go. Wearing heavy armor, I don't want to stay on this mudflat any longer," Lan said, grimacing as his feet sank into the wet, sticky mud.

Bernie, unencumbered, teased Lan as they prepared to move to the next battlefield. But just then, a shout came from the nearby dry ground.

"Hey! Please wait!"

The voice was accompanied by the sound of hooves. Lan raised an eyebrow. The people were close, but he and Bernie had heard them simultaneously. Considering the environment, Lan found it understandable.

Velen was by the sea, and the province often experienced strong winds. The temperature difference near the lake made the wind even stronger. The salty breeze rustled the trees, and the wind's howl made it difficult for Mentos to filter out the noise.

Within seconds, a well-dressed young man with brown hair appeared, riding a horse matching his hair color. His bear fur cloak, tightly woven clothes, and leather hat indicated wealth. Generally, wealthy individuals were less likely to engage in violent activities. Lan and Bernie weren't too tense.

"Thank you for waiting," the young man panted, seemingly struggling to catch his breath. His friendly smile made him appear more approachable.

Bernie, seeing the witcher still preoccupied with mud on his boots, stepped forward. "No need to come closer. Just stay there. We help those in need on the road, as we might need help ourselves one day. But these are troubled times, so we must be cautious. This distance is fine; I can hear you."

To show friendliness and trust, the young man controlled his horse and stepped back a little. "Who isn't cautious? First, Melitele was desecrated by cannibals, and now children are missing. I understand your caution."

The young man smiled and tightened his bear fur cloak, covering his chest.

"Call me Willis, son of a Novigrad merchant. I'm just asking for directions, nothing more. I traveled from Novigrad to Lindenvale, entering Velen. But my guide fell ill and died there. My destination is Heatherton Village, where a powerful witch doctor resides. I seek his help." 

The young man rubbed his nose, inadvertently showing three gold rings with gemstones on his fingers, reinforcing his credibility as a Novigrad native. Everyone knew the wealthy there were genuinely rich.

Bernie believed most of the young man's story but was still puzzled. "Lindenvale? Why go through there to reach Cinder Village? Couldn't you have taken the inn at the crossroads? We're in southern Velen, and Heatherton is northwest. That's quite a detour."

Lan, initially uninterested in the query, suddenly felt something was off. Mentos keenly captured this feeling, and in an instant the biological intelligent brain laid out several logical chains for reference. The direction was too far off. He had just entered Velen, yet he knew about events from days ago. And the hoofbeats... there were more than two horses. Where were the others? What were they doing?

A sudden heartbeat made Lan's heart race. He couldn't draw his sword in time, and he didn't care that his feet were completely buried in the mud as he sprinted towards Bernie.

"Quen!"

"Clang!" Lan realized his Quen sign had deflected a crossbow bolt. But it wasn't enough. There were more than two horses. Where was the other person? What were they doing?

Lan's cat-like eyes scanned the area but found nothing. Then, he heard a body fall into the mud behind him. His pupils contracted as he turned sharply. Bernie lay on his back, dazed, with a crossbow bolt in his stomach. The so-called Willis, laughing, drew a sword from his saddle.

His bear fur cloak no longer covered his chest, revealing a necklace of human hand.

***

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