Bear School Astartes-Chapter 871 - 854: Caravan and the Archbishop

As the two of them continued their intermittent conversation in this deathly quiet atmosphere, they walked towards the Undead Settlement that Fodolink had mentioned.

After traversing a few more treacherous and peculiar hills, a cacophony of sounds suddenly reached them from the distant horizon.

The terrain of this mountain was quite unique, with frequent changes in elevation and a ground pattern that was hard to decipher.

Lann had previously stayed in Yan’an, where the terrain was equally complex, and he felt that this mountain was a match for the one on which the Mountain City in Yan’an was located.

Thus, on such rugged and peculiar mountain paths, the transmission of sound was also hindered.

Even in this quiet environment, those noisy sounds only appeared on certain routes where sound could travel.

Fodolink raised his hand without turning his head, signaling Lann to stop with him.

Meanwhile, Lann discreetly gestured with his right hand in a place the old knight couldn’t see, signaling Rong Buqiu and Qilin, who were following from afar, to remain hidden.

Although the distant sounds were noisy, they lacked the panicked screams and cries of agony, seeming instead to be the result of a crowd of people and vehicles causing a lot of noise.

Judging by the sounds, this appeared to be a caravan.

"Should we hide first?"

Lann whispered, tilting his head to inquire of Fodolink.

After all, from the mouth of the old knight, it was now rare to find trust between people due to the dwindling flames and harsh times.

Meeting face to face on these narrow and rugged mountain paths wouldn’t be wise.

But after a brief thought, Fodolink shook his head.

"Don’t act rashly, just wait by the roadside. In times like these, a caravan of this size must have some standing. This is Losric City below, no one dares defy King Ausloes."

"If they were just passing through and we hid on the side, if the experts in the caravan discovered us, it would be hard to explain."

In Lann’s eyes, Fodolink was a local guide, so he merely heightened his alertness without protesting.

As the noisy sounds drew closer, it was as Fodolink had predicted.

A large caravan, though numerous, was well-organized and disciplined, steadily making its way forward.

The leader emerged first from the side of a small hill, followed by a long line of personnel and carts.

The narrow terrain was not suitable for horseback riding, so except for a few large carts, everyone traveled on foot.

The way these people moved matched Lann’s initial impression of this world.

They spoke little, and their expressions seemed naturally gloomy and calm.

As they walked silently, sounds of armor pieces clashing resonated, along with the collision of long halberds and spears against their shoulder pads.

Individually, each person’s sound was faint, but together, they became clamorous.

"Is that...?"

Fodolink seemed to recognize the person leading the way, murmuring.

"Archbishop Klimte?"

Lann stood with arms crossed, leaning against the mountain wall behind Fodolink.

His cat-like eyes, slanted, peered through the silver hair falling over his forehead as he looked at the caravan approaching.

The leader wore very distinguishable attire.

It was similar to what Christian bishops from Lann’s homeland would wear during formal rituals.

A deep blue silk robe, so smooth it reflected light and shone.

Various ceremonial ribbons hung from the robe, with ornate shawls symbolizing being ’under divine protection.’

Most notably, there was a tall white hat with gold patterns.

Unmistakably, he had the appearance of a cleric, and one of considerable rank.

Unlike common religious figures in peaceful worlds who advocated non-violence, he carried an exquisite bifurcated spear tucked in his arm.

The sleek silver spear was sharp, but the intricate openwork carvings on its head, and the way he held it in his embrace, left Lann unsure if it was a religious item or a weapon.

Archbishop Klimte also noticed the two by the road.

With a gentle, subtle movement of his non-spear-holding hand, he left the procession and approached the two by the roadside.

Two tall, barrel-like knights followed in his wake.

The rest continued along their route.

"May the flame guide your path, Fodolink."

The old knight adeptly bowed, and the archbishop skillfully gestured with religious signs, lightly tapping on his shoulders.

As he spoke, he drew a deep red cloth from his wide robe and placed it on Fodolink, tying it securely.

Lann observed these actions and, in this world where the {flame} held special significance, covering oneself in deep red fabric seemed to imply ’being under the protection of the flame.’

Only after all these formalities were completed did the conversation begin.

"You’re still wandering around here... unfortunate soul. The Undead curse has no remedy other than reigniting the flames."

Archbishop Klimte whispered softly.

Fodolink’s bowed figure trembled slightly, yet he remained silent, appearing both stubborn and unwilling.

Upon hearing this, Lann observed the old knight.

As expected... Fodolink himself was also Undead.

This explained the emotions he expressed during their previous idle chatter.

Archbishop Klimte, though appearing of average height, was also elderly, with a short but grizzled beard around his chin.

A beard that should have looked gallant instead appeared somewhat somber on his face.

The knights behind him were of similar stature to Lann, towering above the heads of ordinary men, who barely reached their chests.

They wore barrel-like helmets and heavy-looking armor that seemed exceptionally sturdy.

Beneath the plate armor, chain mail and leather armor provided protection, and a voluminous clerical robe was worn to indicate their status as Church Knights.

The cumbersome armor tightened the robe around the chest and abdomen, leaving the voluminous sleeves to hang freely. 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Previously, Fodolink had remarked to Lann, ’Seeing the lumberjack’s abnormal physique and still approaching, not knowing whether it’s foolishness or bravery.’

This indicated that the physique of ordinary people in this world was considered ’normal standard,’ yet when he met Lann, he showed no particular reaction.

These abnormally tall Church Knights followed the archbishop openly.

This world held many mysteries for Lann, but it seemed solving them would take time.

Lann was not in a hurry; he could be extremely patient when necessary.

"Sir, I haven’t seen you leave the Profound Church for a long time."

Fodolink’s aged voice carried respect.

"What brings about such a grand procession this time...?"

The caravan continued along the mountain path beside them, the cluttering of armor and footsteps creating a dense noise.

If the ground weren’t so damp, dust would have surely been kicked up by their steps.

"We... must welcome back a little-known Goddess. She has encountered misfortune and now only the Profound Church can offer her a period of respite."

Klimte’s lips, under his grizzled beard, murmured vaguely, his eyes instinctively flitting aside.

It was a clear ’saying only half-truths and hoping the questioner would stop’ expression.

And just when they mentioned the divine, the most luxurious and solemn carriage of the caravan passed by them.

In that carriage, a tall female figure sat with knees drawn under dark, shadowy veils.