Bear School Astartes-Chapter 587 - 590. Death
The secret journey of the refugee group began.
They couldn’t be discovered, so even in the bitterly cold winter, they had to advance through the dangerous forests rather than the main roads.
Everyone was panting, but due to the limited warmth in their bodies, the mist they exhaled was thin and pitiful.
Walking through the forest required more than twice the energy compared to walking on the main roads.
As people constantly adjusted their leg movements and speed, their calf, ankle, and foot muscles could never relax, maintaining a high level of grip.
Walking was an activity, but walking in the mountains and forests was a sport.
And for these refugees, they had been weak for a long time.
After Hacksaw took control of the caravan and resources within the refugee group, food was actually quite ample.
But the group had been struggling in the quagmire of war for weeks, suffering irrecoverable physical and mental damage.
Even with abundant food and a safe, warm environment, it would probably take half a year to restore their vitality.
They needed rest more than anything.
But now, in the war zone escaping urgently, in the harsh winter, the environment outside the forest could reveal and unleash massacres by black-clad troops at any moment.
Such constant fear and shock day and night were enough to turn a strong man into a quail within days.
In the refugee group, a large portion were Sintra People with their families.
Lann had seen emaciated men and women many times, forcing themselves to smile and care for their elderly or young family members.
The sense of responsibility and simple moral feeling of caring for family made them bear more psychological and physical pressure, consciously or unconsciously.
Without the responsibility and obsession of ’caring for family,’ Lann suspected that these people, long exhausted, might collapse at any second.
So even though Hacksaw had greatly relaxed food distribution after that night, people still collapsed by the snow-covered tree roots, often with no chance of getting up again.
Lann saw human corpses killed by day Demon Spirits or night Demon Spirits in Velen.
They were emaciated, as if drained of their energy, and died exhausted.
The refugees falling on the road resembled those killed by Demon Spirits.
Even the fiercest Demon Spirit could kill twenty people a month?
But even the minor ripples outside the battlefield of war cruelly and steadily harvested human lives in this refugee group.
Three Demon Hunters walked at the end of the refugee group, handling the corpses of the deceased.
To prevent them from becoming traces leading back to the refugee group.
At first, the three of them could still speak. But as time went on, they became increasingly silent.
Lann had just finished dealing with a woman’s corpse, dressed only in a coarse linen shirt, with no signs of struggle, indicating she wasn’t robbed and froze to death, but someone took her clothes after her death.
Into her death-relaxed hands was tucked a crude, poor-quality straw doll, onto which facial features were clumsily drawn with charcoal.
The strokes were very childish; it wasn’t a curse tool; it looked more like a child’s toy.
Like a gift from a child saying goodbye to their mother...
Lann thought to himself.
"How long have we been in the forest, Geralt?"
Suddenly, Lann lowered his head and asked the old master who had also just finished his work.
Although he could get accurate time to the millisecond from the biological brain in his mind, he still asked.
As if resisting the dead silent atmosphere, deliberately finding something to say.
"Four days."
After a moment of distraction, Geralt finally replied.
"You have rich experience and knowledge, Geralt. Are you accustomed to this situation? I mean, seeing so much, does your heart remain steady... without fluctuation?"
"I know what you’re asking, if we, who live longer than ordinary folk, become accustomed to suffering and ignore it... But that’s not the case, Lann."
"This is the closest I’ve been to war. I’m almost a hundred years old, living cautiously, never entering a war zone during its stalemates, only taking monster hunting missions after wars end. So my mood is just like yours... crap."
Later, including the silent Ged, the three fell silent again.
-----------------
Meanwhile, at the inn where four skilled individuals were wiped out, a group of people arrived.
This time, five individuals calmly entered the inn, now reopened.
Dakley Sirifant was the leader of the group, or more precisely, the leader of all special force members scattered across Sintra.
Ah, thinking of this identity and the power behind it, Dakley couldn’t help but take a deep breath.
Status, this wonderful thing, brings pleasure. Even the stench from a latrine seems refreshing.
Earlier, he was mostly a thug, gang member, murderer, smuggler in the Niflgaard Empire...
Generally, such people faced gallows for sure, but if one had skills and certain figures required them, exceptions could be made.
He was first noticed by Stephan Skellen, the Grey Heron.
This significant person was a Royal Coroner of Niflgaard and an assistant of the great Emperor Enshir.
Thanks to his friendship with the Empire’s Chief of Intelligence, Vatier de Liddos, his career swiftly advanced to becoming an important agent under the Emperor.
Initially, Dakley thought being noticed by the Grey Heron was the greatest opportunity of his life.
But surprisingly, nearly half a year ago, he was summoned by the person who promoted the Grey Heron!
Vatier saw promise in him as a broker to gather vicious individuals due to his connections with them.
And in alignment with the Emperor’s will, funded him to form an experimental troop.
The purpose was to leverage elite flexibility and small target assault advantages to specifically wipe out certain enemies.
On the Sintra battlefield, he was specifically instructed—to eliminate Demon Hunters.
He understood why such command existed, because Sintra’s Lann did something significant years ago.
Bearing the title of ’Sintra’s’, of course, caution was warranted.
Yet he didn’t quite comprehend if such emphasis on a mere Demon Hunter was worthwhile.
Although stories were exaggerated, Dakley believed there was no one capable of surviving encirclement by dozens of swordsmen.
The guy likely relied on terrain to achieve impressive results.
Thus, upon receiving the command, Dakley kept a stern face of ’the mission is dangerous and critical, but with no hesitation for the Empire’.
However, internally, he wasn’t very tense. He even pondered extending his commander’s term by sparing Sintra’s Lann upon encountering him.







