Bear School Astartes-Chapter 70. Huge Support

"Are you scared?"

Lann’s evasiveness seemed to excite the other party even more.

The female Warlock laughed uncontrollably, leaving Lann with nothing but a vast expanse of white before him.

"DUANG-DUANG-"

"Mentos, there’s no need for sound effects at a time like this!"

"Sir, this is the subconscious sound in your mind, I’m just playing it out."

"Whatever it is... stop it!"

"Alright, sir."

The alluring female Warlock laughed for a while, then raised her brows and asked Lann.

"Are you really as young as you look, Little Demon Hunter? I remember your kind lives a long time."

Lann pressed the roaring bear head necklace on his chest, which clinked noisily, and remained silent.

"...Are you really just in your teens?!"

This time, it was Margaret’s turn to be shocked.

With an East Asian face which naturally appeared younger, and having no scars on his face since his debut, Margaret thought Lann might look about sixteen at best.

But after her initial shock, Margaret’s smile became even more "mischievous".

A Demon Hunter who was just in their teens and hadn’t even finished training yet—but judging by his knowledge, not even fully trained—yet could take down a camp of fifty men head-on!

Although no one in the camp wore armor, who could even speak a word against such combat prowess?

Whether it be potential, fighting skills, personality, or age, they all piqued Margaret’s interest in Lann.

"Miss, it seems your injury has already..."

"Call me Rita." The female Warlock interrupted before Lann could finish his courtesy.

Faced with the Demon Hunter’s shock, Margaret propped her hand on the wheelchair armrest, resting her chin lightly in a chuckle.

"You saved me, so we’re friends now, Lann. Close friends call me Rita."

"Alright, then, Rita."

Lann was simply unaccustomed to such aggressive gazes, but if it meant gradually getting closer to a realistic beauty that would require thousands of dollars in Photoshop, there wasn’t a man alive who would refuse.

Thus, the young man voiced a question that had lingered in his mind for a long time.

"How did you end up getting caught by those people?"

Lann was baffled.

He initially thought there was a terrifying Great Mage in the camp.

But with the determination of "die trying to rescue", and fighting his way to the end, there wasn’t even a soul who could cast a fireball among the armed thugs.

He couldn’t imagine how Margaret ended up in such a miserable state.

Margaret was completely unabashed by her sorry condition.

"Like I told you, Lann. You lack common sense in dealing with Warlocks."

Faced with the young man’s inquisitive gaze, the female Warlock felt like she was teaching a student.

"Releasing magic requires concentration, not ordinary concentration, but very, very strict concentration."

She raised a finger.

"For example. During spellcasting, twisting your ankle or burping can cause spellcasting failure, or unforeseeable mutations."

"Even before casting a spell, if a Warlock is just in a state of diarrhea, their spells are likely nothing to fear. Acute gastroenteritis, such severe cramps, would completely impede spellcasting."

"So, Lann..."

The female Warlock spread her hands, with her already revealing neckline showing even more pale skin, making the young man nod involuntarily.

"Even a powerful female Warlock, if she were knocked out by a few spur-of-the-moment thugs with a slingshot without any prior warning on the road, do you think she’d be able to cast spells upon waking up and finding she’d lost several pounds of meat?"

"Understood." Lann nodded.

Seeing it like this, Warlocks seemed quite frail.

After all, their tolerance and resistance to poison were much like ordinary people.

Eating some buckthorn would send them running for the toilet, unlike Demon Hunters, who could down poison like a buff.

In this cold world, the young man felt a rare sense of warmth regarding professional intensity.

"What do you plan to do next, Lann?"

Margaret asked suspiciously.

"You seem eager to deal with toxins, to restore your health. Is there something else you need to do?" ƒreewebηoveℓ.com

As he spoke, the youthful ease faded instantly from Lann!

His cat-like eyes turned icy, and the hand resting on the velvet covers clenched suddenly.

"Heh..."

"Those traffickers’ accounts aren’t settled yet."

Though his tone was flat, after he spoke, Margaret inexplicably felt the room grow a few degrees colder.

"Not finished? News of the trafficking and cannibalism must still be on its way to the crow’s nest. I was out of my mind back then, didn’t notice anything. Did someone get away?"

"Not ’someone’ escaped." Lann shook his head.

"The biggest fish wasn’t caught at all!"

"The Head Eater took more than twenty kids straight onto a cargo ship."

"Bringing you here was not just about detoxifying and convalescing. I saved you, Rita. Airetusa Academy owes me a favor, and I plan to use this favor to get something from you all, then find the Head Eater and slaughter him and his buyers."

The female Warlock watched Lann earnestly with interest.

That night in the camp, she fully understood the determination of this Demon Hunter.

She appreciated this sort of... chivalric expression.

"There’s no need to use Airetusa’s favor, Little Demon Hunter. My injuries and the life of my student are debts the Academy needs to repay."

"If it’s you, then I’d like to invite you to become the Academy’s ’debt collector’. A 1000 Oren limit, anything the Academy has and you need, you can take."

Margaret grandly waved her hand, giving Lann access to a massive fund.

The most famous monster hunting commission in all Temeria—lifting the princess’s curse—even gave the involved Demon Hunter only 3000 Oren Coins.

Rumor had it that hunter’s name was "White Wolf" or the "something something Butcher."

The wheelchair rolled as Margaret prepared to leave.

"Your equipment is in the storage box by the bed. If you need anything, just contact me directly. Get well soon..."

At the door, the blonde beauty turned and smiled.

"And then start the hunt, Little Demon Hunter."

The door closed.

The wheelchair continued forward, and at Lann’s door, a primly dressed female Warlock walked beside the wheelchair.

"You’re interested in that Demon Hunter? That’s good, much better than ordinary people. If nothing unexpected happens, he should accompany you for a few hundred years."

Compared to Margaret, the prim female Warlock was conservatively dressed.

But even her neckline, for ordinary people or even noblewomen, would be considered low-cut.

"Revenge is necessary and must be accomplished, but Rita, you have more important things to consider... you know what I mean."

"Yes, Tishaya, yes." Margaret responded wearily.

Apart from being powerful in magic, she actually had no interest in the political games Warlocks loved, making her an anomaly among Warlocks.

"Now the situation between the south and north is growing more unstable, which is why you want me to become the Dean. Only with two Dean-class Warlocks can Airetusa’s position be more secure."

The female Warlock, who loved simple pleasures more than a power struggle, complained, with a hint of grudging in her tone.

Tishaya ignored this bit of petulance.

"I taught you, so I know your abilities. Your mana far surpasses those like Philippa, Triss, and Keira who are mired in political games. I dislike politics too, but you must know, Rita..."

Tishaya gazed into her student’s eyes, her exquisite face as calm as a lake.

"We must protect Airetusa, safeguard the legacy of magic."

"To that end, you must quickly handle the incident of your injury outside the Academy. It’s severely impacted the Academy’s prestige. A Dean-class Warlock deboned... Tsk, it may even affect the entire Warlock community’s reputation."

"Your becoming Dean should bolster the Academy’s deterrence!"

After speaking, the prim Great Mage didn’t care about her student’s embarrassed expression and continued with suggestions.

"You think highly of that Demon Hunter, and he’s indeed exceptional, outstanding among warriors."

"If that’s the case, then extend the 1000 Oren limit to 1500. Mark him thoroughly with the Academy’s insignia and your own insignia."

Tishaya reached out and adjusted Margaret’s collar, making them symmetrical.

"Perhaps, we can gain an Academy Hunter."

Read latest chapters at f(r)eewebnov𝒆l Only