Bear School Astartes-Chapter 876 - 859: Darkness

"So to this day, although it has been hundreds of years since the Undead Team lit the fire, those mages still want to find ’scraps’ in these ruins."

Leonard let out a slightly sarcastic chuckle as he spoke.

"They even want to please the Crystal Elder who remains here, voluntarily guarding his gate, thinking that doing some foolish things will fulfill their desires."

Lann had no comment on Leonard’s statement.

He could already sense it; Leonard was the type who becomes extreme and cynical after experiencing a blow.

This blow might be due to his personal circumstances, or the misfortunes experienced by the Goddess he served.

In any case, there was a problem with his character.

So even though Lann could only talk to Leonard, who hoped to convince him to serve the Goddess, due to the silence of the others, he had no intention of taking his words at face value.

[Pheim Dragon Academy], [Undead Team Ally—the Crystal Elder]...

Facing things familiar to the locals but utterly unintelligible to Lann as an outsider, he decided to let Mentos create a document in his mind first, filling it with content through investigation and inquiry later on.

As the sky grew darker, the entire group halted at a hand signal from Archbishop Klimte.

"We’ll rest tonight."

After the Archbishop turned and said this briefly, the entire convoy moved again according to his command.

At this point, the yellowish tint of the sky gradually began to dim.

For some reason, this change in the sky made Lann feel a bit at ease.

In this world, he saw many things and events he had never encountered before.

Though these things also happened in other worlds, as Fodolink said: this is a world of decay.

The feeling brought by the atmosphere of decay was a heaviness other worlds lacked. It was as if everything was irresistibly sliding toward the endpoint of decline.

In the New Continent, Ancient Greece, and the Reed Country, Lann could admire the unique ecosystems, distinct powers, and beautiful lives as if he were on a trip.

But here, in Losric... he was oddly comforted by the normal change of the sky.

Archbishop Klimte’s role seemed quite prestigious.

Exiles guarding the gate at Fort Fran would salute from afar.

So setting up camp here for the night was absolutely no problem.

However, the mages from the Pheim Dragon Academy, as Leonard mentioned, seemed to have no regard or respect for religious status.

That familiarity, that slight comfort: religious figures and mages were always at odds.

Lann saw a few broad-brimmed, pointy hats flickering by the remnants of the fortress near the camp.

It was a very traditional mage attire, the pointy hat and robe.

In the Magic Middle Ages world, such attire in the warlock circle was ’outdated enough to be collectible.’

Now, male warlocks preferred puffed sleeve tight shirts, breeches, and other noble attire.

While the females preferred... more open styles.

The mages with the wide-brimmed pointy hats only peeked out from the ruins and had no intention of interacting, even setting up sentries on purpose.

This spot near a pond allowed easy access to water with a few steps, making it a decent campsite.

People began to busy themselves, preparing for the night ahead.

Rosalie’s carriage was placed in the center, the Goddess still seemingly lost in her thoughts, motionless and silent.

Archbishop Klimte served at the sides of her carriage.

He seemed quite fit, and the double-pronged spear cradled in his arm might not just be for show. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

After a whole day’s trek, this priestly elder showed no signs of exhaustion.

One by one, small fires lit up, often accompanied by followers in deep-red hoods joining hands in prayer before the flames.

The warriors of the convoy scattered in various spots, ensuring responsive action in case of unexpected events.

Lann carried a bucket beyond the illuminated area, seemingly intending to fetch water from the pond.

But as he passed by the center of the camp, Archbishop Klimte kneeled by Rosalie’s carriage and the fire, praying with his head down, yet spoke without looking up to the Demon Hunter.

"Don’t go too deep into that pond, young man."

"Although the pond isn’t deep, years of accumulation have left it filled with sludge. And dangerous creatures live within that muck."

"To stray from the flame is to plunge into darkness, to confront danger... especially now, as the flame wanes..."

With that final phrase, whether prayer or reminder, Archbishop Klimte pressed his folded hands to his grizzled chin and bowed deeply.

Lann offered a slight bow to the Archbishop, indicating he’d understood, then continued moving beyond the light of the fires.

This world’s night seemed particularly deep, leaving only a small area illuminated by the flames.

Lann had taken just a few steps outside the camp before being completely enveloped by darkness.

Instead of heading to the pond, he turned and walked the other way.

He gently rubbed the Magic Ring on his finger.

Connections between magical equipment were established, as a faintly lit figure dashed towards him from the distant shadows.

Rong Buqiu and Qilin came running toward Lann as if in a hurry.

Their urgency made Lann slightly furrow his brows.

"Neigh!"

Qilin, under the loose-fitting runed cloth, opened its mouth to snort.

But was promptly silenced by a gentle hand from Lann.

Rong Buqiu quickly hopped off Qilin’s back, walking toward the hunter he followed, glancing suspiciously into the darkness with his little feline face.

"What’s going on with you two? Encounter enemies?"

Their unusual demeanor made Lann ask with a frown.

Yet the usually brave and optimistic Elu Cat, uncertain how to express it, quickly leapt onto Lann’s shoulder.

Finally in this position, Lann could feel with his cheek the prickly fur of Rong Buqiu gradually smoothing out from reassurance.

"I don’t know meow..."

Rong Buqiu murmured with its lips.

"It’s just, just a feeling, like there’s something in the darkness, but it can’t be found, so tormenting meow!"

"What about Qilin?"

Lann shielded his left hand with his body, then slightly flickered the magical light of Chaos Magic to connect with the Ancient Dragon.

Whether in terms of life force, perception, or combat strength, the Ancient Dragon wasn’t on the same level as ordinary creatures.

So Lann thought perhaps he might learn something from Qilin.

But still no success.

Even Qilin’s words were more unfocused than Rong Buqiu’s, seemingly deeply frightened.

After all, the truly nerve-honing tough battles, Rong Buqiu surely had more experience than Qilin.

"This darkness... it’s not a peaceful night... different from the night!"

Qilin pawed the ground incessantly, panting nervously through its moist large nostrils.

It continued to repeat this statement persistently.

The tension between them caused Lann to furrow his brows deeply.

Was the world’s darkness something so spiritually dangerous, so oppressively powerful?