Bear School Astartes

Chapter 1018 - 1000: Shapeshifter (Celebrating One Thousand - s!)

’Dandelion’ ran blindly, breaking into a sheep pen.

This was a place butchers used in the market to temporarily store their goods, killing and selling on the spot.

The pen was covered with a layer of straw, and as he rushed in, the messy footsteps caused the light straw to fly around.

Lann blocked the doorway.

"Dandelion, why are you running?"

The Demon Hunter didn’t call out to Dudu, because he wasn’t sure if it was him. Nor did he call out to the Shapeshifter, because this city was where the Eternal Fire originated and the Divine Hall was located.

The Eternal Fire was originally a symbol of the power to survive, eternal, bright, dispelling darkness, leading to a promising future...

However, with the development of the church and doctrine, extreme ideologies and rhetoric always attracted more attention and followers.

So during the expansion process, the Eternal Flame Faction, which used to be somewhat inclusive, has now become increasingly radical.

To say a Shapeshifter appeared here, is to assume this city would set up stakes for burning at once.

"Haa~ who, who are you?"

’Dandelion’ said, panting as he spoke.

The Shapeshifter, while mimicking Dandelion, also inherited his poor stamina.

"I’m Dandelion’s friend, calm down first, take a breath... Damn!"

Lann stood blocking the sheep pen’s exit, trying to gently coax the person opposite to calm down and have a good talk.

But as he bent down, lowering his body to seem less threatening, the Roaring Bear Head Pendant on his neck slipped out.

Simultaneously, the pupils of the ’Dandelion’ opposite suddenly shrank, and so did his body.

He squatted first, burying himself within the bleating flock to hide.

Next, as if turning a human body into a bag of flour mixed with water.

The sticky dough quickly shaped, and in the blink of an eye, a human of average height turned into an agile Half-Elf!

Lann had never seen such a scene, or perhaps very few people in this world have ever witnessed a Shapeshifter’s entire transformation process, not even someone as knowledgeable as Vesemir of the Wolf School!

This race is rare and hard to spot; encountering one is hard enough, let alone witnessing the transformation.

The enclosure was tricky enough for a physically inept Dandelion, taking him over ten seconds to clamber over, yet it held no such challenge for the nimble Half-Elf.

Lann now completely understood how astonishing a Shapeshifter’s disguise could be, and he instantly realized: if the Shapeshifter were to escape his sight now, there’d be little hope of catching him.

Seizing the moment while the Shapeshifter-turned-Half-Elf hadn’t run far, and the angle was perfect.

[Alder’s Rune]!

With a "bang," the air exploded with a swirling force.

The physical push converted from Magic Power whipped up a gale, propelling the Half-Elf into a tent at the side.

Lann crossed the sheep pen in a few strides, taking the opportunity to block the tent’s entrance.

This was a tent butcher used to keep raw meat refrigerated and shielded from light, filled with the smell of raw meat as soon as one entered.

Inside was dim but the Demon Hunter’s cat eyes still shone faintly in the dark.

In a creepy way.

The Shapeshifter who had turned into a Half-Elf stood inside the tent, which had been sealed well by the butcher, with the edges of the canvas staked to the ground.

The Shapeshifter, panting and swallowing, clung to a sheep hung on a tent pole, skinned and gutted.

"I am truly a friend of Dandelion’s, sir... Shapeshifter."

Lann spoke calmly, hoping his calm tone could influence the other person to also regain reason.

The recent series of movements didn’t even count as a warm-up for him.

"If you have Dandelion’s memory, you should know."

Although Lann’s large size made it harder for him to move among people, the Shapeshifter’s panting was heavy and loud inside the tent, as if he was the one who spent a great deal of effort.

"S-spare me."

He barely swallowed the thick saliva from the exertion and gasped as he spoke.

"Don’t kill me, Demon Hunter."

He obviously didn’t believe it as Lann’s emblem was of a bear, and he’d heard the tales of those cold-blooded and ruthless monster killers.

Seeing it scared him, thinking it was coming to kill him.

"Don’t you know I’m friends with Dandelion? Didn’t you say Shapeshifters can replicate memory and thought?"

The Shapeshifter blinked. Once at this inescapable situation, he seemed to clear up a bit from the panic brought on by seeing the Bear School Pendant.

Lann’s tone and words seemed... genuinely not that of a cold-blooded guy.

"I-I copied Dandelion two or three years ago."

The Shapeshifter’s voice got quieter as he spoke.

Evidently, the Shapeshifter’s copying of a person’s memories and thoughts was limited to what was recorded at that time.

"Uh... you’re really not here to kill me?"

"I have a crossbow arrow, Dudu."

Lann showed the mechanical device on his left arm guard to the Shapeshifter, explaining it was a crossbow arrow for better understanding.

Then, Triss and Priscilla also arrived at this small tent’s entrance.

Lann turned to look at the two beauties.

"And there’s a Female Warlock here."

Triss followed Lann’s words, her hand glowing with an orange-red magical radiance.

"If we were here to hunt you, you never would have had the chance to roll into this tent. Understood?"

"I think... I understand now." The Shapeshifter swallowed, saying weakly as he looked at the magical glow, not out of exhaustion this time.

"You are Triss Merigold, Dandelion knows you, I remember this."

The female warlock dimmed the magic power in her hand and waved at the shapeshifter.

The female singer who came along ran to the door and craned her neck to look inside the tent.

"Wait, where’s Dandelion? There’s only a Half-Elf here!"

Priscilla’s big eyes widened with surprise.

"What’s going on here?"

The Half-Elf, Dudu Bieberwitt, looked at the beautiful poet with a bitter and helpless smile.

After somewhat establishing a basic mutual trust, Lann decided to take Dudu and Priscilla to the Kingfisher Tavern to meet Dandelion and Geralt.

After all, Dudu didn’t recognize him from the memories copied from Dandelion.

Only by finding their mutual friends could real trust be established.

And Priscilla, without a doubt, was the reason for Dudu’s mysterious disappearance during this period.

The poet wasn’t repelled by such novel and interesting events; she was even looking forward to them.

Seeing her expectant look, she was exactly like Dandelion.

"You are a bit too cautious, aren’t you?" While walking, Lann teased Dudu. "When you saw my necklace, I thought you were going to faint on the spot."

"Ha, if you got hunted like a rabbit for decades by something, you’d be no better than me."

Dudu was unflinchingly direct in his response to Lann’s tease.

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

"Wake up, Geralt!"

"Huh?"

On the second-floor corridor of the Kingfisher Tavern, Geralt had occupied a dining table, sleeping while seated.

It wasn’t until Lann walked up to him and called out that his senses, alert because of the approaching dangerous creature, instantly woke him up.

The White Wolf opened his eyes and saw a bunch of people standing before him.

There was annoyed Lann, still bright-eyed Triss, an unfamiliar pretty lady, and... a Half-Elf standing there with arms crossed staring at him.

"Dudu?!"

Geralt exclaimed in surprise and then looked at Lann.

He didn’t expect that in a city of tens of thousands of residents, Lann managed to find a shapeshifter in such a short time.

Lann saw Geralt’s surprised expression.

"I can only say... it was a coincidence."

As he spoke, he took back his Roaring Bear Head Necklace from Dudu.

On the way, to prevent the overly cautious shapeshifter from slipping away, he had to use silver items to block his transformation abilities.

Despite being a Demon Hunter, Lann hadn’t worked in this world for a long time, making it hard to find a silver item with a chain shape.

He could only pull off the necklace and wrap it around Dudu’s finger.

Now, with Geralt here, their mutual friend, it was possible to establish mutual trust, allowing him to put the Bear School Pendant back on.

"You look really relaxed, White Wolf."

Upon hearing Lann say this, Geralt waved his hand and stood up from his napping spot.

"What else could I do? Dandelion writes the scripts without needing me to get involved. Once he finalizes them, then it’s time to deliver them to the theatre troupe and discuss the performance."

He spoke in a raspy, deep voice as he pushed open a door on the corridor.

This was the room Triss had booked for them on the second floor.

Upon entering, everyone saw Dandelion leaning on the table, with the feather of a quill in his hand hanging over his shoulder, ’swooshing’ as he wrote.

"I told you, Geralt. If you feel bored, just hang around. We’ve reminisced enough about our past battles; you don’t need to help. Of course, with your artistic sensibilities, you probably wouldn’t be able to help much either."

Geralt turned and gestured to the few people behind him.

Indicating that Dandelion was in his working state.

Lann, Triss, and Dudu didn’t react; after all, it wasn’t their place to meddle in the business of a playwright.

Nevertheless, the shapeshifter who had turned into a Half-Elf felt more at ease.

Priscilla, on the other hand, was full of interest.

She looked at Dandelion, who sat at the desk furiously writing.

In her memory, this bothersome man should have been melodramatically singing by her side just an hour ago.

Yet, now, he hadn’t even seen her.

This strange and fresh feeling made the poet feel excited.

"Your homeland is shrouded in snow

Frost covers the river and lake

Such things are only natural, so

Don’t let longing and sadness shroud your heart... heart?"

Standing beside Dandelion’s desk, Priscilla recited the sonnet the poet was writing for the script, but was puzzled by the last word.

"It’s not rhyming; you should use ’shroud your face’.

"Who said that?!"

Dandelion jumped up as if his tail had been stepped on, shouting.

"Who is questioning me, questioning the Northern Territory’s greatest poet, Dandelion?!"