Astartes of the Bear School

Chapter 600 602. Drive away

When the witchers, Dandelion and Ciri came out, they saw Haxor who was still smiling but not looking friendly.

There is also Stewart, who has a bandage on his leg but still wears armor, leading a group of more than fifty soldiers.

 These soldiers were also injured.

But now, the soldiers fighting side by side at dusk were faintly placing their hands on the handles of their respective weapons.

"What does it mean?"

 Lan En stood in front, questioning calmly.

 Behind him, Ciri was held in Geralt's arms. Bai Lang pressed his head to prevent her from looking any further.

 “What do you mean?” As if he heard a big joke, Haxo suddenly raised the steel scepter and smashed it to the ground!

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　ification.

“It means that you are not the so-called Bordong at all! You are Lan En of Sintra! Right?!”

 A loud announcement is like dropping a bomb on a calm lake!

 The originally peaceful and joyful camp suddenly had a lot of people gathering towards it.

 “Lane of Cintra. Is he the [Hunter Lord]?!”

 “The hero who killed the Nilfgaardian lackeys!”

Lan En saw the little girl who had just come to deliver flowers, her eyes shining brightly.

Lane's 'trial' against Stytha has obviously spread widely in this country that is on guard against Nilfgaard.

 So much so that the little girl couldn’t believe that she had already given flowers to her idol.

 There were a lot of exclamations all around, mostly positive emotions.

 But the next moment.

 “Ah! Hero!?” Haxall emphasized the word in a sarcastic tone.

His tone obviously silenced the surrounding voices.

“We in Cintra regard him as a hero, but did this ‘hero’ do anything when we were suffering?”

"He seems to have neither appeared on the battlefield against the Nilfgaardians nor in the city of Cintra!"

"Yes, he has helped us a lot recently. But isn't the source of our miserable life still being defeated by the Nilfgaardians? Where was he at that time? According to legend, with the power of one person equal to a hundred, If you appear on the battlefield, it will surely make a big difference in the situation of the battle, right?"

 At this moment, all the sounds around him gradually disappeared.

 People looked at each other blankly, and the wind of public opinion made them dizzy.

 “And what’s more important, everyone?”

Hakthor opened his arms and turned around.

“[Hunter Lord]’s reputation is not only great here, but isn’t he great in the eyes of the people in Nilfgaard?!”

 “Think about it, ladies and gentlemen!”

“Will the enemy give up chasing a very valuable target? We are just a group of miserable people trying to make a living. The Nilfgaardians actually don’t care much whether we run away or not. If we don’t encounter them, we will treat them as if they don’t exist.”

 “But what if he is with us?”

"Look at his performance in that battle at dusk, everyone! How awesome it was! The Nilfgaardians must have recognized him. Yes, we are less than a day's journey from the border , but just in case!”

“What if the Nilfgaardians send a large group of cavalry to hunt him down?! Are we going to be unlucky too?”

 The sounds around him changed from silence to whispers again, like a swarm of bees hovering in the sky above this place.

 The eyes of the refugees changed from joyful at first to fear, terror and even suspicion.

 Lan really wanted to say something.

 But when he saw, the little girl who gave them flowers opened her eyes wide and wanted to say something. But next to her, a woman covered her mouth. The chapped hands were black and red. The black was the dirty skin, and the red was the flesh and blood inside after the skin was cracked. This looks like two hands working hard.

The woman looked at the witchers in horror.

So Lan En didn’t want to talk anymore.

 “So.” Haxo’s voice became low, like a hook that was about to draw out the whispers in people’s hearts.

“What should we do to survive without being implicated?”

There was another whisper like the flapping of bees' wings. Tension, anxiety, and fear spread like a plague in this voice.

 Finally, a tentative, timid voice said: “Let, let him go?”

The sound was very quiet at first, but it suddenly attracted the attention of the three demon hunters with sensitive hearing.

 They looked over there sharply.

 But in this case, any action may become a spark that detonates the powder keg.

 This place is very close to the border, so there should be no danger. They are still witchers, so nothing will happen to them, right?

 Perhaps it would be easier not to be with us?

This group of refugees who have been struggling to survive in the war for a long time have almost only supported themselves until now for this opportunity.

 Now, the witcher, or Lan En, has become a security risk for them across the border.

 So, with the tacit support of Haxo, and the inertial thinking that the law does not punish the public.

 The voices of ‘let him go’ grew louder and louder.

Ciri and Dandelion's faces turned red with anger, while Gerd and Geralt beside them held them back.

Lan En slowly stepped forward. His body felt extremely oppressive, and just by moving, the surrounding sounds automatically subsided.

 He was very close to Hucksol, looking down at him.

 “So, this is what you want me to do?”

Hackthor still smiled: "Yes, in order to prevent more people from being hunted, and also to allow you demon hunters to get rid of our encumbrances and be able to move quickly. Let's go our separate ways, Lan En."

 After a brief and depressing silence, Lan nodded: "If this is what you want, then I accept it. Finally, I sincerely hope that you can get out of Sintra smoothly."

I don’t know if it was an illusion, but Lan En felt a subtle twitch on Haxo’s face, but his smiling eyes narrowed even more, making his eyes invisible.

"Thank you. Thank you for your blessing, Lan En. Let's set off now. To make us all feel at ease, I will ask sixty warriors to follow you until I send you far enough."

Lane turned and left. Gerd and Geralt looked around deeply, and many people lowered their heads when they looked at them.

Ciri looked at Haxor, who was still smiling, with red eyes, spit on the ground, and followed Geralt.

And Dandelion, the poet, even though he was almost crushed to death by the crowd in the battle at dusk, did not show his current expression.

He gritted his teeth, his face stiff and contemptuous.

“Ah! Cintra! The country of warriors and warriors. Today I have really seen what ‘courage’ means.”

 After saying that, he picked up his lute and followed the witcher's back.

Huck Thor’s smiling face never seems to change.

 He nodded towards the sixty warriors who seemed to be used to drive away the witchers.

 “Go.”

 (End of this chapter)