Bear School Astartes

"No, no, no! I won't run! I won't run!"

He curled up in the corner of the doorframe, clutching his head.

The handsome face once renowned throughout Temeria now revealed deep panic and confusion.

Just a moment ago, he was merely a step away from a guard whose neck had been pierced by a fragment of plate armor!

One step!

Will he be this lucky next time? Does he dare to bet on it?

... He's already been scared out of his wits.

Lann crouched beside him, gently brushing the wood chips off his shoulder.

"Whether or not you should escape isn't up to you to decide, Lord Earl. That's up to me."

"This is the repayment for showing me 'Hell'."

Lann's actions were gentle, his words were gentle, but the eyes gazing down at Count Steza... were chillingly cold.

"Lord Earl, there's a parable about Hell from my hometown. The exact details don't matter, but in brief, 'Hell is a cesspool where ordinary humans, driven by greed and malice, torment each other if they can't personally benefit.'"

"Seems rather commonplace, doesn't it?"

Crouching, Lann chuckled softly, but this light-hearted tone caused Steza to shiver involuntarily.

"Until... I saw everything you did in the basement of this manor, then I understood what it means, Lord Earl."

The lightness in his tone gradually turned cold, calm.

But this calmness certainly didn't bring comfort; on the contrary... it felt like a blade drawn from still, icy water.

Lann described what he'd seen in this tone.

"Your basement isn't very bloody or filthy, and the method for intimidation was merely hanging a child to bleed. Just one child, just one basin of blood. But what truly terrified me was what?"

"It wasn't those little toys for training bedroom skills... it was how you arbitrarily divided the children into superior and inferior categories."

"The children who were obedient and excelled in the training of servility, you provided them with better clothes and food, treating them with a kind attitude, granting whatever they wished. You gave them a sense of superiority when they saw those who didn't perform as well, that is, the ones with more rebellious spirits..."

"A truly brilliant example of management science, Lord Earl!"

At this point, Lann seemed unable to contain his admiration for this method, and lightly clapped his hands.

"You made a group of slightly better-off slaves feel superior to those not as privileged!"

"I know one of those 'outstanding students,' no... I should say I've seen them."

"That child was once in a frail condition at the beach camp in Velen, their two arms together allowed me to grip them with one hand. Yet even in such a state, when a riot broke out, he would still open his arms to comfort those smaller children, holding them, even if he might die the next moment. But now..."

"Lord Earl, do you know what he was like when I saw him again in your basement?"

Lann, like a host seeking audience interaction, questioned the count curling in the corner.

Count Steza merely buried his head deeper into his arm.

"That child is now well-nourished, his face delicate and beautiful. His clothes are exquisite and elegant, making him look like the son of a noble. I was even pleased to see him like this until... he stood outside the cage, spat at those ragged, poorly-fed slave children inside it, as if taunting a pack of dogs."

Lann's hand reached into the count's armfold.

His hand gripped the lord's skull, lifting him upright with a look of agony and panic on his face.

Those cat-like eyes were as ruthless as a predator.

"I could have been slicing armed and skillful warriors into pieces without them having time to sound an alarm, but standing on that floor paved with flesh and blood, my feeling of dread was far less severe than when I saw that scene."

"... That is 'Hell,' Lord Earl."

"Please... spare me..."

With his skull in searing pain from the grip, Steza stammered.

Lann heard his plea and released his hand.

But those eyes, still in hunting stance, clearly told the count that it wasn't over.

"Go run, Steza."

"The range is the entire manor; as long as you don't run outside the manor's grounds, I won't lay a hand on you."

"Go find the power you think can kill me, seek their help, let them prepare their arms, and unsheathe their swords."

"I will chase you, and I'll kill all those who wish to save you..."

Lann backed away slowly into the dense shadows in front of Steza.

His upper body vanished into the shadows, then his legs, his feet, leaving only those dimly glowing cat eyes sparkling in the dark.

Finally, even those eyes submerged into the shadows.

Steza stared blankly at this scene, his legs trembling uncontrollably.

"Now, run."

A small knife flew through the air, landing at his feet with a whooshing sound.

Only then did he, like a frightened rabbit, scream and run away.

~~~~~~

Butler Morgan's fireball explosion stirred the entire estate's defense forces awake in the dim night.

All the guards on duty tensed simultaneously, moving toward the direction of the explosion.

Those guards on rest were abruptly awakened, immediately donning helmets and armor, equipping themselves with sharp swords and war hammers. Cоntеnt prеsеntеd by МV|LЕМР|YR.

For a while, the entire manor was filled with calls to organize teams and the "clash" of armor plates as they collided during motion.

The clash of iron, killing intent rising sharply!

The main building of the manor was a large fortress with a three-story structure.

Steza's bedroom and study were on the top floor.

The most elite, loyal, and trusted warriors enjoyed a large collective dormitory on the first floor.

These warriors were the direct bloodline underlings in Steza's faction.

They were encouraged by Steza from a young age, and due to their family background, were well-nourished, guided by renowned teachers, and equipped with superior arms.

As such, each carried a standard outfit of fully covered plate armor.

Just this suit of armor was worth several years' entire income of a village.

The group consisted of twenty-five members, each equipped according to habit with morning star hammers, spiked maces, or sword-shield combinations.

In combat strength, they were not on the same level as the remaining fifteen fully armored wandering knights.

After starting his escape, the first thing Steza thought of was rushing here.

Although there were only twenty-five of them, the superior armor and physical fitness allowed these knights to wreak havoc among hundreds of ordinary soldiers.

The moment they finished equipping themselves, they immediately organized a formation, moving toward the location of the earl upstairs.

Eventually, in a corridor twenty meters long, the panicked, running earl met with the tightly-defended knight battle formation.

The earl, running as if being chased by something, frequently glanced back in alarm.

The knights, however, upheld excellent battlefield discipline, with a tight shield wall in front, each watching and supporting their comrades.

Yet, this dense defense had difficulty holding when they encountered the earl.

Firstly, because of their surprise, they thought the earl was already in peril but unexpectedly, the lord had run out himself.

Secondly, to include the running lord into their protective formation, the tightly-knit battle formation had to... temporarily break apart.