Astartes of the Bear School

Chapter 423 422. Sintra

“The Amer Mountains can be regarded as the north-south junction line in a sense.”

During the journey, the high-level vampire used a gentle and magnetic voice to introduce the destination of his trip to the witcher.

"When dividing north and south, in addition to the Yaruga River we are about to arrive, there is also the Amer Mountains. In many books, the meaning of 'North' means: from the north of the Amer Mountains to the Dragon Mountains. This vast expanse of land in the south.”

 Vampires are alien races that mistakenly entered this world due to the intersection of the heavens and the earth a long time ago.

 But their long lifespans allow these creatures to understand the world better than most native inhabitants.

 Regis is currently riding a colorful mare under his butt. The standard and skilled riding posture shows that during long journeys, even high-level vampires prefer to ride horses.

Maybe it’s to hide himself, or maybe it’s because it saves energy. Lan En guessed cautiously.

 “Well, thank you for the explanation.”

 Lan En pulled the hood on his head so that his silver hair was completely covered.

“Although I have already learned this knowledge before setting off, I would like to thank you again for your teaching.”

"If I understand correctly, you are saying that I seem to be a bit too good at teaching others?"

Regis thought for a while before reacting.

"No, this is not a problem. If I had as much knowledge as you, I would probably talk endlessly when I find the opportunity. After all, it feels pretty good, I understand."

 “Ah, thank you for your understanding.”

Regis twisted his upper body on horseback and bowed grandly to Lan En.

The witcher discovered that this high-level vampire had a desire to perform.

Completely different from the cold vampires he had imagined before.

 “If we go further, we will enter the country of Sintra.”

 Cycling in the shade of trees on both sides of the road, thanks to the fact that it didn’t rain these days, the road was quite comfortable.

And once the weather gets gloomy, this road that can stir up loess smoke and dust may turn into a potholed mud road in an instant.

While the two were riding, every once in a while they could see the wreckage abandoned on the roadside because the wheels were broken or the axles fell apart.

 The goods on it were either taken away by the cargo owners or by nearby residents, leaving only worthless remains with dried mud scabs remaining.

 “Did it rain heavily in this place some time ago?”

Lan En asked the vampire next to him who was enjoying the sun with his face raised.

"Yes, the rain came suddenly, and it was not too light. In those days, the road almost turned into a market. Many merchants with broken carriages were soaked in the rain on the road, trying their best to get their goods out. Get rid of it as soon as possible. Otherwise, if the horse's hooves are soaked in the mud and become useless, they will lose even their capital."

Regis talks eloquently.

“I made a small profit in those few days. Those businessmen’s feet were soaked in the mud, and the athlete’s foot medicine I prepared was sold out.”

　　Okay, this high-level vampire is still good at doing business.

 Lan En clapped gently on the horse, while Regis smiled reservedly.

 The dry road surface provided convenience for riding, and the demon hunters and vampires did not stop in the middle before nightfall.

They went all the way directly to the largest city in Sintra - the capital of the country with the same name, Sintra City.

—

 The cost of entering the city is not expensive, which means that the country is relatively stable now.

When the vampires and demon hunters entered the city, the sun had already set, and most of the shops on the street had closed. Only places that did all-night business began to light up. Such as taverns, casinos, and brothels.

“Oh, if you need anything, please don’t worry about me.”

Of the two people leading the horse, Regis suddenly seemed to remember something and said to Lan En.

The young man’s hooded head tilted in confusion.

"what are you talking about?"

“Well, I mean you witchers have more hormones, don’t you? Unlike ordinary people, that’s what the book says.”

"That doesn't mean we're all a bunch of nymphomaniacs who have to have **** day and night, okay? Oh, I get it. Did you read that book called "Freaks, or Descriptions of Witchers?" "

 Lan En shook the arm holding Poppy's reins, his tone helpless.

"It's a book of slander and conjecture. If you read enough, you'll find that it not only calls witchers freaks who only know how to kill, but also compares us to people who must engage in obscenity every day or else they will die. Meat bugs who cannot vent their anger, infertile people who covet other people's children. To be honest, do you not make any distinction when you are studying?"

"Maybe." Regis smiled gently, "Maybe this is the 'fallacy' that inevitably occurs in the process of dissemination of knowledge. After all, for most people, having a book is good."

“But fortunately, this world will always correct incorrect knowledge. For example, I met you, a real witcher.”

Lan En shook his head indifferently: "Then I am truly honored to help you correct your wrong impression, Regis."

As he said that, the two of them happened to pass by a fairly lively pub.

This pub is not as popular as the "Mermaid Singing" that I just passed by, but it is more lively than the small hotel in the corner of the corner that doesn't even have a light on.

 The level of neither upper nor lower is just suitable for the combination of witcher and vampire.

 “I’ll tie up the horse first.”

Regis took Poppy's reins and led him and his pied mare towards the stables of the inn.

Lan En nodded and opened the door directly to enter, and walked to the bar of the tavern.

Under the not-so-bright light, the boss, who had just gathered a pile of wine bottles, raised his head and saw an unusually tall hooded man standing in front of him.

 But he did not show surprise.

This is Sintra, and there are countless good guys!

A charming man who is loved by everyone in Sintra should at least look like this: his head should touch the roof and his shoulders should reach the door frame! He curses people more fiercely than a dwarf and roars like a buffalo! Day or night, the smell of horses, sweat, and beer was at least thirty paces away.

The guy in front of me is in good shape, but he looks ghostly with the hood on, and he doesn't have the smell of a man at all.

 So this is not considered a good man by Sintra's standards.

 “What do you want?”

The tavern owner said coldly.

 He habitually wiped his hands with the canvas apron around his waist, then lifted it up and wiped the bar table.

The old grease on the bar has been mixed with dust, turning into a solid layer of black mud.

　　When the apron brushed against it, Lan En could even feel the considerable stickiness.

“Two rooms and two horses to take care of.”

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 (End of this chapter)