Bear School Astartes

Chapter 424. The Same Pendant

A grown Sintra man, even if he’s relatively slender, must weigh at least seventy kilograms.

And a man who can lift seventy kilograms with one hand, holding it steady despite the other’s struggling, not even seeming to break a sweat... Sintra People are indeed brave, but these few weren’t prepared to wrestle a human-shaped ’bear’ without weapons or armor.

Lann held the man’s neck and lifted him up.

His hood turned towards the people who stood up at the table, the shadow of the hood was so dark they couldn’t see anything, and they were filled with unease.

Gradually, these people swallowed nervously, steadied the overturned chairs they had knocked over, and sat back down.

Only after they had settled down did Lann lower his arm.

The man, who had been struggling like a fish hung in mid-air, finally didn’t look like he was about to die after his feet touched solid ground again.

By now, apart from most of the people around the boxing ring, everyone in the pub had their attention drawn by the commotion Lann had caused.

And under everyone’s watch, Lann grabbed the neck of the pockmarked man and dragged him toward the Anger Fist tournament.

The man struggled, but his strength didn’t even qualify to slow Lann down a bit.

Lann dragged him just like dragging a dead duck that had already been bled.

Within the boxing ring area, the organizer was using a wooden-backed parchment to record the spectators’ bets and the changes in the odds for the fighters.

"’Deacon Hook’ won! That’s his third victory! A triple win! Let’s congratulate him! By the way, his winning rate has changed, please be mindful when betting."

The organizer’s tone didn’t change at all. Professional and skilled at creating an atmosphere, as if like those spectators who had placed bets on the boxing match, his attention was entirely elsewhere.

...That is, if sweat wasn’t sliding down his temples beneath his small cap.

Heavy footsteps approached from behind him, accompanied by the sound of a person being dragged leaving marks of struggle on the ground.

Finally, all the sounds in the pub ceased when those heavy footsteps came to a halt behind him.

"Thud!"

A man’s body, like a rag doll, flew past him, hit the wall, and bounced off before landing on the ground.

The pockmarked man gasped for precious air, clutching his throat, while the pain from his back twisted him into silence.

Squirming like a fish on land.

"You two exchanged glances at least three times just now, and now you want to pretend nothing happened?"

A tall body projecting a deep shadow, for some reason, the organizer only felt that shadow was terrifyingly profound.

"Why provoke me?"

The organizer swallowed uneasily, kept licking his lips, but couldn’t speak.

A man, surrounded by spectators in the center, shirtless and slightly bruised, cursed loudly at this moment.

"Damn it! Who are you? This is my ring, my arena!"

Lann thought he had heard something about ’three wins in a row’ and ’Hook.’

The shirtless man aggressively charged towards the Demon Hunter.

"Come on! Fight me if you’ve got guts! Bare fists! Come... Thud~"

Another instant where no one reacted.

The local boxing champion, nicknamed ’Hook,’ was like he was suddenly jerked violently by invisible air, and then his entire robust body flipped in the air, spinning and crashing to the ground.

He was dumbfounded, lying flat on the ground, and only then did his body react.

He desperately wanted to curl up his back because the sudden hit was just too quick, too painful.

The abrupt impact on his back made him momentarily unable to catch his breath, only able to twist on the ground like a big shrimp.

Exclamations of "Magic!" "Witchcraft!" echoed continuously, as the crowd, initially lively, suddenly retreated a great distance.

As if merely hearing these words in their ears was enough to make one feel unlucky.

But this had nothing to do with Magic.

This was a martial arts technique.

Iwami Yixin had once demonstrated his martial skills on Lann, and during that spar, Iwami the Sword Saint merely grabbed the Demon Hunter’s hand and threw him directly from the front to the back!

No matter the speed or strength or points of force on the human body, he shouldn’t have been able to do it.

Yet the old man had forcibly used his pinnacle skills to make Lann seem as if he was being thrown by air!

And now, the Demon Hunter who once got thrown out could also perform this move.

His progress was even faster than Iwami Yixin had anticipated!

After two men lay on the ground, the organizer finally seemed to face reality.

"Sorry, sir. I only wanted to recruit more participants for the contest, as this is a newly organized tournament, and I can get commissions from the rounds... Gulp."

For Sintra People, whether it’s an official match or a drunken brawl, it doesn’t affect their interest in a spectacle.

As long as there’s a fight, the organizer shouting on the sidelines and urging the bets counts as a tournament.

Lann tilted his head, eyeing the Anger Fist organizer before him.

"Then I’m telling you now, I’m not interested in your tournament, and I don’t want to be disturbed in this pub, do you understand?"

"Y-yes."

After saying that, Lann shook his head helplessly and turned back to his table.

At the table, Regis was already giving a light ’clap’ to applaud.

The sound was especially piercing in the silent pub.

But neither of them cared.

"Brilliant technique, brilliant!"

Regis placed his hands down and poured Lann another cup of mead.

"Oh, sorry, I got excited watching and drank a couple more cups."

"Hey, I’m not earning a living by boxing tricks," Lann pursed his lips, grumbling to Regis.

"Of course, of course, you’re a Demon Hunter, a righteous one supporting yourself by protecting humans and slaying monsters."

The vampire let out a deep, magnetic chuckle.

"To be honest, I thought you were going to kill them just now... Your aura was quite fierce, wasn’t it?"

"It’s their problem if they’re scared, I can’t control how they feel. Also, I wouldn’t kill someone just for being insulted, otherwise I’d have to wipe out everyone who’s read ’Freaks, or a Description of Demon Hunters.’"

"Haha!" Regis actively clinked glasses with Lann even before he raised his, "That truly is generous of you."

Lann shook his head helplessly.

As he grew familiar with him, this high-level vampire seemed to reveal his true nature—

Though gentle, he always instinctively aimed to tease others.

This personality made Lann unable to resist imagining: if Regis were to meet Geralt, their back-and-forth exchanges would surely entertain him for quite a while.

And as Lann and Regis each took another sip, the organizer, who Lann had just intimidated, timidly approached their table.

The man took off his small cap and tightly clenched it to his chest, nervously swallowing his saliva.

"Sir, please forgive my offense again, but if I guessed correctly, you’re here to take... that mission as a Demon Hunter?"

Before Lann said anything, the organizer spoke quickly.

"I saw the pendant you revealed earlier during your movement, the roaring bear head. Silver, vividly realistic, unforgettable after seeing it once."

The organizer’s previous words didn’t pique Lann’s interest.

But his following statement made both the Demon Hunter and the vampire turn their heads toward him.

"You mean..."

Lann cautiously inquired.

"You’ve seen a pendant like mine before?"

The nervous boxing match organizer nodded.