Bear School Astartes

Chapter 898 - 880: Familiar Face, Departure

The residents before him hadn’t turned into wandering souls yet, but their thoughts and movements had already begun to stiffen and slow.

"I would like to ask, where is the village gate?"

The villager pressed his hat to his chest and took a while to comprehend what Lann was saying.

He turned stiffly and pointed his hand to the high ground behind him.

"From... there. Keep going... upwards, and you’ll reach it."

The village was in a mountainous area, not very large but with a significant level difference.

It seemed that the village gate connected to Lasric City’s entrance bridge was at the highest point.

"Thank you."

As Lann maintained a cautious stance, he thanked the villager.

"I still have some food, do you need it?"

"Foo...d? Yes, yes."

Lann handed over a piece of black bread, and the villager quickly took it and started eating immediately.

The Demon Hunter watched as the villager seemed to become a bit clearer in spirit after eating a few bites, as if gaining nourishment not just for his body but also his soul.

"Has the village been in a bad condition recently?"

Lann asked as if unintentionally.

"I encountered a fat woman on my way here; her appearance was truly terrifying."

While the villager ate, he answered the questions. It seemed the bread’s nourishment had reminded him of the awareness of "having eaten, no more stealing."

"Those are the instructors from the Profound Church. We used to think they were coming to take away the ever-growing number of undead, just like before."

"But now they seem different. They say we can handle those undead ourselves, however we like. They’re also always telling us stories we’ve never heard before."

He spoke while eating in a rushed manner, with dry bread crumbs spraying out from his mouth.

But he quickly covered his mouth with his hand, and when a sufficient amount of breadcrumbs had accumulated on his palm, he poured them back into his mouth.

"But that’s not what they used to say. The instructors from the Profound Church used to warn us to be careful when killing the undead not to spill too much blood, as the blood could bring misfortune."

"But now there’s no better way. More and more undead with a bit of reason are seeking a swift and painless death."

"We used to have just one undead in our iron cage; now we have at least seven or eight dried-up wandering souls squeezed inside, resembling spiders with several limbs."

The Undead Settlement’s industry was entirely about dealing with the undead. Usually, Losric and the Profound Church would provide substantial subsidies for such ’initial procedures.’

This was the livelihood of the villagers.

Therefore, when the world collapsed, the people here were the first to lose their food and drink, as they did not produce grain themselves.

Lann asked about any recent visits by outsiders or strange occurrences in the village.

The villager answered truthfully.

As he left, Lann gave him an additional piece of bread as compensation.

He didn’t know how much longer the bread’s nutrition would sustain his body.

The Demon Hunter looked up at the ’bleeding eclipse.’

As long as the flames haven’t fully rekindled, even without undead causing chaos, the food shortage alone would be enough to decimate this world.

In the end, the souls would all degrade.

The information this villager provided was quite valuable.

He mentioned that a Curse Master had visited the village not long ago. Although Lann wasn’t clear about what skills the so-called ’Curse Master’ might possess, the title sounded like someone who belonged to the realm of Mages or Clergy, those who wield supernatural powers.

If encountered, perhaps it would be possible to communicate.

Also, the Divine Tree worshipped in the village was now temporarily used to place undead remains. Rumor had it that many people heard a low breathing sound near the tree.

Considering the nature of this world, Lann somewhat believed that the tree might have come alive due to absorbing too much nourishment, soul, and humanity from the undead remnants.

There’s nothing else much to say; the villager didn’t know the whereabouts of the old Knight Fodolink.

Lann didn’t expect to run into him directly; dealing with matters first was more important.

So, he continued to lead the horse towards the higher ground of the Undead Settlement.

There were also quite a few small people similar to those in the Profound Church here, but in the absence of corruption from the Profound, they seemed to bear no malice towards Lann.

They simply walked their own way indifferently.

On horseback, Rong Buqiu’s paws left the grip of the sword, sighing in relief.

"I thought they were all bad people, meow."

Scratching its whiskers, it spoke.

"Now it doesn’t seem to be the case."

Lann walked ahead, saying without looking back, "I think it’s because of the influence of the Profound that there are no good people."

"I’ll try not to judge by appearances anymore, meow..."

Just as he was saying this, on the way uphill, Lann’s eyes looked to the outer side of the slope beneath him.

Outside this path, atop another mountain peak, a familiar figure stood there, gazing into the distance.

That unmistakable dusky armor, shield, and flame-shaped greatsword... it’s Fodolink.

Luck is on his side, after all.

Lann thought to himself.

Without worrying whether riding the Qilin would frighten others, he mounted the horse.

He pointed the Qilin towards that mountain peak: "Head there, I see a familiar face."

The Ancient Dragon shook its head and glanced sideways.

Below was a bottomless cliff; the people of the Undead Settlement had no mood to install railings along the mountain path, so a misstep would lead to certain death.

But the Qilin was indifferent to this.

Its hooves lightly scraped the ground in respect of the terrain, and then made a light leap forward.

Effortlessly landing on the opposite cliff.

The Ancient Dragon’s limbs were far sturdier than rock, allowing it to easily tread upon them and ascend step by step until reaching the top.

"Hey, Fodolink!"

Lann’s voice was somewhat cheerful.

In a world growing increasingly chaotic, dark, and dangerous, encountering a familiar face who had once lent a hand was indeed a reason to celebrate.

Lann jumped off his horse and walked toward Fodolink, who was standing on the cliff edge gazing out.

But the closer he got to Fodolink, the more the cheer on Lann’s face faded and his steps became hesitant.

Finally, he stopped three steps behind Fodolink. His palm involuntarily clenched.

This old knight... was starting to seem off.

Lann’s brow furrowed completely.

He first met Fodolink back when this old knight decisively dealt with a group of ghostly lumberjacks.

His gaze was tired back then, yet still that of a normal person.

But now...

Accompanied by the ’clack-clack’ of armor colliding, the former Holy Knight turned slightly.

Beneath the dusk-colored pointed helmet, a face mask of wrapped rags only exposed his eyes.

But the look in those eyes... was like a wooden splinter caught in the nail, making one feel danger and pain.

"Can you... still communicate, Fodolink?"

The Demon Hunter pursed his lips, asking with difficulty.

This old knight was already undead before; now it was unsurprising if he had become ghostly or zombified.

"Communicate?"

Unexpectedly, Fodolink responded logically to Lann’s inquiry.

But that tone...

Lann’s slight surprise turned into sudden seriousness.

Mocking, malicious, cruel... these weren’t traits Fodolink had shown before.

Nothing like him at all!

"For now, I can still communicate with you. But, people will eventually go mad, even more so with those who can’t die, haha."

The voice was still of the old knight, but what lay beneath it was completely different from the person who could assist common travelers.

He’s gone mad.

Lann had come to this realization.

"Since you’re bound to go mad, what are you doing here? Is your madness just spacing out?"

The Demon Hunter spoke while discreetly letting his gaze pass over Fodolink’s shoulder, following his previous line of sight.

...was it that tree revered by the residents of the Undead Settlement?

"How ridiculous, only after going mad have I realized the world’s truth—gods have shackled humanity."

Fodolink walked past Lann, seemingly with no intention of attacking.

Rather, it was as if he wanted to introduce his ideas to Lann.

The undead hadn’t become zombies or ghosts; instead, they claimed to have found the ’truth’?

What a nightmare.

"Now isn’t the right time for us to talk, Lann. See, I still remember your name."

"When you go mad, understand, you’ll know where to find me. We’ll bond through sacrifice."

"By then, we barmy ones will be family."

Lann turned, watching Fodolink gradually leave. His hand slowly moved toward the knife at his waist but ultimately refrained.

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

Fodolink, along with the general situation of the Undead Settlement, already completely reflected the cessation of the fire, and the chaos it brought to the world.

People’s sanity was crumbling, and supplies along with logistics were depleting.

Both flesh and soul would face despair at this time.

After all, the ’world’ familiar to life in this world was about to collapse.

Thereafter, without any bumps, Lann had reached the gate of the Undead Settlement.

Here was a warrior who called himself ’Sun Knight,’ diligently trying to help the people here.

He seemed like a good-hearted person, under whose management and restraint, no major upheaval had yet occurred.

"Don’t trust those mentors from the Profound Church."

Lann spoke to the Sun Knight.

This guy was dressed in chainmail and plate armor that looked sturdy, with a helmet that had only a narrow slit for observation, adorned with a feather on the side, quite distinctive.

However, the sun face insignia on his chest brought to Lann’s mind the Niflgaard Emblem.

"Those mentors have apostatized; now they preach the tales of the Profound."

"Ah, I know what you’re saying makes sense. Their sermons have issues."

The Sun Knight’s muffled voice came from under the helmet, helpless and troubled.

"But they’re from the Profound Church, they’ve cooperated with the Undead Settlement for hundreds of years now. With people panicked, everyone is grabbing onto any straw. All I can do... is give my best."

"As long as you do your best." Lann said as he led the Qilin. "Archbishop Klimte says not to be overly pessimistic, Losric City has always had control over the Fire Transmission Ceremony."

"I’m not worried about the Fire Transmission Ceremony not continuing, that’s impossible."

The Sun Knight sighed and shook his head.

"I’m only wondering, once the Fire Transmission Ceremony is complete, how many people will die in this world."

"Alright, I’ll have them open the gate, you can go. Those pilgrims you saw arrived just half an hour before you. They’re heading to Losric as well, to advise the Prince. You can join them."

Lann nodded and walked out of the settlement gate.

"Thank you, may the flame protect you."

"And may the sun guide you, friend."