The Witcher: Astartes Of The bear School

Chapter 18: Seizing Power

In reality, only those truly wealthy enough to not regard money as money, or witchers, would wield such swords for battle. After all, iron could kill; why bother using such prized possessions on the battlefield?

This was also a reflection of the difficulties inherent in the witcher profession. They fought monsters with swords worth hundreds of Orens, yet could not exchange those swords for money to spend in town or invest in property. Because very few would protect a witcher's belongings.

After visiting the blacksmith, Lan's task regarding the hunting contract in Oreton had to be expanded. When equipment needed maintenance, the village would reimburse the costs, and the village blacksmith would accompany Lan to find a master blacksmith.

This was mainly to ensure there was someone knowledgeable to prevent Lan from inflating the costs. Though the young man had no intention of doing so.

"I'm not taking advantage of you; the armor I brought was damaged before I got here, and I plan to pay for the repairs myself." Lan crossed his arms and chuckled lightly, walking nonchalantly behind. 

Elder Allen, however, was grimacing as he walked ahead. Yes, he planned to pay for it himself. But what if he got gutted by a drowner before he could save enough to fix the armor?! What if a water hag slashed his throat?! What would happen to their efforts to expand the fishing grounds? Would the village still be able to make money? Damn it!

Elder Allen glanced back at the young man's tattered cotton armor, which was almost bursting at the seams, and sighed. He decided that tonight, he would have the village's skilled women work overtime to at least patch up the outer cotton layer of the armor he had brought.

Before the fishing grounds were expanded, this discounted witcher needed to stay in good health. Even a finger injury could affect work efficiency.

Before Lan's arrival, Elder Allen would never have believed he would be so worried about a witcher's safety. It was perfectly normal for mutants to hunt monsters; no one cared about their lives. But now, he had to greet Lan with a smile, fussing over him like a mother hen.

As they walked, Lan casually brought up, "By the way, what happened to the families of those two unfortunate souls?"

At this mention, Elder Allen's stride faltered slightly. Lan's keen senses easily caught that moment, and his cat-like eyes narrowed slightly.

"What, did something happen to them?" The young man's tone remained indifferent, conveying a sense of detachment. Yet strangely, Elder Allen felt a chill creeping up his neck.

"No, how should I put it?" Elder Allen said cautiously.

"One family has… been wiped out. Little Turner chased after his dog into the woods and was torn apart by a pack of rabid wild dogs. His screams were so terrible that they drove his mother mad, and she ran in after him. A few of the men who were there couldn't hold them back, and… neither of them made it out of the woods." 

The village elder sighed heavily, but that was as far as it went. The human tragedies in Velen were so frequent they had become numbing. His main concern now was whether the loss of one family would affect the Bear School's "compensation" for the village.

Lan pressed his lips together, and Elder Allen felt the chill at his neck intensify.

"Didn't you try to save them?" 

"Save them? How could we?" Elder Allen sighed and shook his head. "The pack of wild dogs no longer fears humans; they've tasted human flesh. Unless you can truly kill them, mere intimidation won't stop them. But at that time, there were only about ten men in the village, and some of them were elderly or children."

The inexplicable chill at his neck faded, and Elder Allen tilted his head, unconcerned, continuing to walk forward.

Meanwhile, Lan lowered his head and followed behind, his steps slightly heavier. He had arrived in Oreton with a sense of gratitude and a desire to compensate, having no familiarity with the two farmers who had perished while speaking up for him.

But he was a person who appreciated kindness and was determined. So, he came here hoping to provide some assistance to the widows and orphans facing hardship. To that end, he had devised a plan, striving to balance the interests of all parties involved, creating a situation that would benefit everyone.

Yet now, the village elder had informed him that one family had been wiped out. And no one could hold any hatred for that; it was purely an accident. His heart was filled with so many emotions that he couldn't quite discern how he felt in that moment.

"There's also the family just over there." Elder Allen gestured to the side as they walked.

At that moment, the winds picked up after the rain, causing the murky lake beneath the dark clouds to churn. Yet within the village, adults and children seemed to go about their daily routines, busily attending to their own tasks. Some repaired fishing nets in the rain, turned over small boats for maintenance, or carried the stinking wooden barrels filled with their catch.

A woman, dressed in tattered and filthy clothes, hurried around the village with a small boy, both looking exhausted yet diligent. They helped the other villagers patch fishing nets and moved things around. Yet after greeting others with smiles, their heads would occasionally droop, revealing a semblance of numbness until they encountered the next busy villager. The villagers naturally accepted the assistance, but they showed impatience and annoyance. However, the woman deliberately pretended not to see it.

The small boy, undernourished and with a disproportionately large head for his tiny body, struggled to push a barrel filled with fish, needing to lean heavily to maintain his balance. This was no game; the effort he exerted, gritting his teeth and pushing with all his might, was genuine toil. The child didn't understand complex matters, but the atmosphere at home had already taught him that he had to help the adults. Therefore, the innocent child's face bore a forced smile after catching his breath.

That expression sent a chill down Lan's spine. But he still didn't show it. Because if he expressed too much enthusiasm or anger, it would only make the villagers uneasy. He was here to do good, which meant he would inevitably take on burdens. He shouldn't concern himself with such matters. The villagers' limited understanding and wisdom would lead them to confusion, then panic, and ultimately turn to hostility.

To calm his emotions, Lan considered placing a hand on his chest. But the feel of the cotton armor beneath his fingers revealed a hard cylindrical object. It was the storage jar containing the gene seed. Yet this time, Lan did not let go at the thought of the grotesque shape of the flesh inside the jar. Instead, he tightened his grip on the glass container. It felt as if he were grasping power itself!

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