Bear School Astartes-Chapter 789 - 772. Obsession

Faced with Lann’s question, Lincoln showed an expression not much different from what he had on the battlefield at that time.

They would fanatically follow Lann into battle, but at the same time, they would sometimes independently choose not to listen to Lann.

"We all believe that the body of an ordinary human is too weak to follow your path."

Lincoln spoke calmly, his youthful face daring to meet Lann’s gaze.

"We need to become more resilient!"

"Most of the Demon Hunters aren’t stronger than you."

Lann crossed his hands, resting on the desk.

"I’m special. You’ve followed me tirelessly on the battlefield, and you’ve lived with two other Demon Hunters for a while. You should be aware of this."

"Yes, we are well aware," Lincoln answered without hesitation.

"But that doesn’t change the fact that ’Demon Hunters are tougher than ordinary people.’ Those Demon Hunters might not even beat us in a direct fight, but that’s just because they’re not good enough. It’s their own problem."

"And we are the best, my lord. Even if we weren’t before, after experiencing those things with you, we are the best."

"And after we undergo the mutation, we’ll become ’better.’"

"From ’the best’ to ’better’... trust me, the gap is not as earth-shattering as you think."

Lann shook his head.

"The cost is too heavy. Your family’s bloodline will end, you’ll endure seven days of pain worse than death, and more importantly..."

Lann looked up at Lincoln and the others outside the tent, their eyes blazing.

"The Trial of the Grasses has only a thirty percent success rate in the most moldable children, ten percent for adults, if you’re lucky."

"It’s not worth it."

"Some of us think it’s not worth it, but some think it is," Lincoln said with neither arrogance nor humility. "We don’t intend to force everyone to undergo the Trial of the Grasses and respect each individual’s decision."

"And the one most determined to undergo the trial... I think you’ll want to meet him."

Lincoln stepped aside, and a figure walked into the tent from behind him.

The person knelt on one knee after entering, then removed his helmet.

Lann furrowed his brow and pressed his lips.

He recognized the person and softly said a name.

"Sir Lynn."

Stuart Lynne, son of Hacksaw Lyn.

"Yes, my lord."

This young man with brown and gold mixed hair calmly responded to Lann.

Just by looking at him, Lann was reminded of that mountain fire, and within the fire, the courage and sacrifice, the ferocity and ugliness of humans...

During that mountain fire, the Lyn father and son both endured the torture of the Niflgaard people until the last moment.

The staff from Hacksaw, inherited from a friend who had fallen, was used as a torture tool by Adal Epp Darcy. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

He smashed half of Stuart’s ribcage with the steel staff, and the decorative relief on the staff head scraped off half of the young man’s face.

But in the end, he survived staunchly.

And before the Battle of Sodden Mountain commenced, Lann had entrusted him to Geralt to be taken north.

"I remember notifying Geralt to take you to Airetusa, where the Female Warlock Academy would pull you back from the brink of death."

Lann looked Stuart up and down, this knight who had been cold and efficient among the refugees, yet prepared to face death alongside Lann’s led refugees.

"Stand up, sir. I do not require anyone to kneel to me."

"But it has nothing to do with your need for me to kneel. This is simply my gratitude."

Stuart seemed to have already been infected by the ’bad habits’ of the Ashen Knight Order.

Under Lann’s words, he did not immediately stand but instead held his helmet in his arm, placed a hand over his chest, and bowed his head in salute.

"Thank you for not letting my father’s efforts and sacrifices go to waste. Nor letting the cries of those who suffered disappear on the battlefield."

"That’s all."

After the salute, Stuart then stood up on his own.

"Because of this gratitude, even though I didn’t follow you in that epic war, I will always be your loyal blade."

"Under the witness of all gods, all blessings and curses, this is my oath, my lord."

Stuart’s cold expression met Lann’s gaze.

The Demon Hunter frowned, but in the end, could only sigh and shake his head.

"You’ve already endured enough, why not rest? With your story alone, you could live a stable and prosperous life in any northern country."

"Enough or not, that’s for me to say, my lord."

Stuart put back on his helmet, covering his hideous half face.

"I didn’t let the Female Warlocks fix this face because I’m waiting for the Trial of the Grasses. Bones become stronger after healing, muscles grow tougher after being torn."

"I have always been waiting, for the Trial of the Grasses will make me better."

"But if you go through the Trial of the Grasses, whether you succeed or fail, it will only intensify the research trend on Demon Hunter mutations."

Lann shook his head.

"Give it up."

Stuart remained unruffled.

"If that’s your order, I will execute it. But my opinion will not change, my lord."

-----------------

After reconnecting the command of the Ashen Knight Order, Lann left the camp.

The knights in the camp also began packing, preparing to break camp.

The only reason they had been lingering near Gos Velen was to be the first to welcome back their commander.

Now that they had reestablished contact with Lann, under Lann’s command document, they would head to the official castle residence awarded by Veltrest.

The castle was located at the southernmost part of Velen, also the southernmost part of Temeria.

But the key now was not that castle.

"Ah~~ a bunch of disobedient bastards!"

Lann held his head in exasperation, letting out a muffled complaint.

And beside him, Belengar, who had also just come out of the camp, was laughing gleefully.

This opinionated group, although Lann knew they would loyally carry out orders, their obsession with the Demon Hunter’s resilient physique would surely not change.

In all likelihood, in the future, they’d continuously pile reports requesting to undergo the Trial of the Grasses onto him.

But what else could he do?

Lann couldn’t just cut them down, could he?

In the end, it’d only give him a headache.

Looking at Belengar, who was laughing beside him, Lann’s mouth twitched.

Immediately, he took out a huge, dark sword from the alchemy pouch at his back waist.

[Turbulence Annihilator].

As soon as Lann shouldered the sword, the tremendous whooshing sound of air made Belengar involuntarily turn his gaze this way.

At first sight, the Master Blacksmith was attracted by the raw and fierce sword.

But at second glance...

"What the hell! Who messed with my craftsmanship! Do you hear me? Damn it!"

Belengar rushed, red-eyed, towards the sword.

The smile shifted from the Demon Hunter’s face.