Bear School Astartes

Chapter 418. The ’Hunger’ of Bones

"Damn! My tooth!"

Lann sat atop Bopai, one hand holding the reins and the other stuffing a hard block that resembled a compressed biscuit into his mouth.

He had been traveling for several days since leaving the fisherman’s dock outside the Gos Velen City walls.

Now, the Demon Hunter had passed the border of Temeria, skirting the edge of the Brokilon Forest, and was about to cross Brugge.

This area was already close to the lands of Sintra.

"Stop complaining, sir. You could have waited until resting to cook that large ceramic-like compound ration until soft before eating it. It was you who couldn’t hold back."

Mentos sighed in exasperation.

The witty and clever biological AI spared Lann from having to talk to his horse the entire journey.

"But I’m hungry, Mentos."

Lann struggled to bite off a large chunk of the pork jerky-flavored block, then quickly closed his mouth, using his teeth to grind away the hard edges before swallowing it whole.

"It’s not hunger in my stomach; you don’t have to remind me how much I ate the last time I rested, I remember it. But my [Spiritual Vision] lets me see my bones, do you understand?"

"I can see my bones craving growth, and the more I look, the hungrier I get... [Spiritual Vision] conveys the hunger of my bones to my brain!"

Lann said, then used his teeth to gnaw off another piece and swallowed it.

This situation, strictly speaking, was a good thing.

Because [Spiritual Vision] not only allowed Lann to see the ’world’ more deeply but also to see ’himself’ more deeply.

For someone with ample biochemical knowledge, it made it easier to ensure his body’s growth and health.

Like now, without [Spiritual Vision], Lann would probably rely on the Star Warriors’ diet post-implantation of [Skeletal Enhancement Organs] to care for himself.

Mentos’ body monitoring could see that his bones were growing as planned, without any abnormalities or malnutrition.

But Mentos couldn’t see that those bones were still ’shouting’ hunger.

The diet inherited by the Interstellar Warriors for thousands of years was reliable but seemed a bit ’outdated’ for Lann.

"Maybe it’s because of my [Second Heart]?"

Lann pondered with Mentos in his mind.

"My body temperature and metabolism speed all far exceed a normal Interstellar Warrior. This should bring me faster digestion and growth speed, the original diet can’t keep up with my consumption."

"That indeed seems very likely, sir. Since you can ’see’ the needs of your bones, meeting them isn’t impossible, just a bit hard on your teeth."

The compound food mixed with ceramic-like materials had an imaginable hardness.

Following the diet of the Interstellar Warriors, the teeth would naturally get simultaneous reinforcement.

But Lann was now in a state of hyper-speed digestion, and his teeth hadn’t caught up in hardness yet, making it difficult and tooth-grating.

If there was a campfire and an iron pot with hot water, these rations could be softened somewhat, turning into a thick porridge.

But when traveling, one can’t demand so much.

As the saying goes, ’frugality at home and abundance on the road,’ but no matter how wealthy, the journey is ultimately less comfortable than a fixed abode.

The sun slowly descended, sinking below the horizon.

In the wild, mist rose from the grasslands and woodlands, spreading out and making the last rays of the sun hazy.

Lann jumped down from Bopai’s back with a block of food in his mouth.

Upon steadying himself, he took the food out of his mouth with a gloved hand.

"Tsk, tsk... what a picturesque place, how does the map I marked not even note this spot?"

The young man clicked his tongue in wonder as he scanned the surroundings in the mist.

Amidst the sunset-tinted yellow mist, thousands of graves stood as far as the eye could see.

Most of these grave mounds were covered in moss.

Some gravestones were nondescript, appearing as mere slabs of natural rock with some engravings.

Some gravestones were polished, their surfaces smooth, forming obelisks or monuments.

In the central area, there were formations of stone tables, stone cairns, and circular stone arrays.

These various gravestones and the approaching evening mist made Lann purse his lips.

At first glance, this environment was reminiscent of Yan’an.

"If there’s a full moon tonight, I’ll feel even more familiar."

Lann led Bopai forward, casually joking.

"Sir," Mentos interjected, "tonight is indeed a full moon."

The Demon Hunter paused, then took a fierce bite of his homemade alchemical ration, swallowing it down.

Had he not met the Lady of the Lake upon returning and flashed himself with [Spiritual Vision], he might have questioned: Was he still trapped in the Ancient God’s dream?

But the Aron Dite hung at his waist felt far more soothing than in that otherworld.

"Alright then," the young man mumbled softly, "at least there are no beasts here, and I can’t smell the stench of their blood... huh?!"

Just as he spoke of not smelling the beast’s bloody stench, Lann’s nose picked up a strange scent.

Accompanying the strange scent was something moving like a shadow among the tombstones!

This scene nearly triggered Lann’s PTSD!

Instinctively, there was a "click" as the mechanism on his left arm gauntlet primed, lifting to aim at the shadow.

The hand sign for [Alder’s Rune] already formed, waiting for Chaos Magic Power to charge and release a supersonic projectile into the air...

But the shadow halted in its movement.

Then, sniffing the air again, Lann’s face showed a puzzled expression.

"Is that... the smell of cilantro?"

Lann voiced his confusion.

"It’s the scent of coriander seeds." The halted shadow cautiously approached from behind the dense tombstones, maintaining a non-offensive attitude.

"To be precise, there’s also the fragrance of cloves, star anise, sage, basil, but the coriander seed scent is just overwhelming."

As he spoke, the shadow passed through the layers of mist and gravestones, entering Lann’s field of vision.

It was a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair, an M-shaped hairline, and a noble’s aquiline nose.

He was dressed in a black, traveler’s attire. From his shoulder bag protruded several rolled-up parchment maps, giving him the look of a country tax collector.

The peculiar scent emanated from his shoulder bag.

Lann sheepishly lowered his left hand. "Apologies, sir. Your scent was so strong at first I couldn’t recognize it as a herbal mix."

"No worries," the middle-aged man, relieved at Lann’s lowered hostility, replied. "Being cautious isn’t a bad thing these days. Besides, I can tell... you probably went through some unpleasant experience recently?"

Lann smiled and shook his head, not intending to elaborate.

"Lann of Sintra, sir?"

"Emil Regis Lohorek Tadjif Godfrey, sir."

The middle-aged man said warmly.

"You may call me Regis."