Bear School Astartes-Chapter 77. Three Situations

After leaving the blacksmith’s shop, Lann’s disappointment didn’t last long.

The idea of modifying the arm guard was born out of the recent strong suppression by crossbows, and even the simple blueprint was rushed out by Mentos.

The blueprint definitely has problems, and how big these problems are depends on the master blacksmith’s opinion.

But at the moment, the master is not in Gos Velen, so this matter is entirely out of the question.

Fortunately, Lann was not just eager to leave Airetusa Academy just for the arm guard modification.

The bulging alchemy pouch was strapped to Bopai’s rear, with Lann leading the way and Alia holding the horse.

The Demon Hunter once again arrived at the front of the top inn in Gos Velen.

A sturdy silver heron sign swayed at the entrance.

After securing the horse, they pushed the door open. Amidst the lively sounds of drinking games, melodic strumming, and a fragrant blend of food and drink.

Lann deftly flicked out two shining Oren Coins, the pleasant "jingle" *2 resounding in the bartender’s ear.

"Welcome back, Mr. Demon Hunter. Have you got an attendant this time?"

It seemed like taking money first made the bartender’s tone courteous right from the start.

"You know, sometimes the life of a Demon Hunter attracts some romantics."

Lann shrugged with feigned helplessness, conversing familiarly with him.

"Still a single room this time, and the extra Oren is to upgrade the meal, make it more lavish. And then..."

The Demon Hunter leaned his body closer to the bartender.

"Buddy, give me the honest word. Is this top tavern peaceful enough at night?"

The bartender’s gaze shifted strangely between the naive Alia and the Demon Hunter, as if he understood something.

Then, with a mysterious smile, he raised his eyebrows at Lann.

He did not immediately assure Lann, but instead shifted the conversation.

"There is a reason for the high price, Mr. Demon Hunter."

The bartender slid the two Orens into his hand.

"A portion of every income from the Silver Swan Tavern goes towards paying a special salary."

"The salary is paid to seven warriors from the Skellige Islands, each of whom has earned money on pirate ships, is proficient in using long swords and hand axes, and has decapitated at least three heads."

"Now, each of them wears a fine set of armor. After nightfall, three stand guard between the tavern’s stairways on each floor, and four patrol tirelessly throughout the night."

"There was once a drunken wild Warlock who tried to break into a lady’s room one night, causing a little disturbance. But after that night, the lady checked out and left, a warrior rested for half a month, and the Silver Swan Tavern continued its business as usual, with the wild Warlock... never to be seen again."

After taking the money, the bartender resumed his previous posture.

Lann did not comment on this story.

"Hmm, I just hope the night at this tavern is as good as when I last stayed."

The Demon Hunter turned upstairs with his naive attendant.

Alia’s shoulders were straining under the weight of a bulging alchemy pouch, filled with potions and glass, forcing her to bend over and struggle forward.

"Sir, why did you say those things that are easy to misunderstand?"

Alia panted softly, asking in a low voice.

"I bet the bartender now looks at you like he’s seeing a *pedophile."

Women at fourteen or fifteen, upon reaching menarche, are able to attempt a sexual life. This was the common knowledge of this era.

But for someone around ten, even by the standards of this era, it was still a bit too early.

Lann replied nonchalantly without breaking his stride: "Not ’like,’ he already thinks I’m a *pedophile."

"But Alia, the fascinating part lies in this. When you give people an answer that’s slightly hidden yet straightforward, most will indulge in that answer without having the urge to delve deeper."

The studded leather glove extended a forefinger, wagging before the young girl’s face, instructing her.

"Now, I’m just an exceptional guest. Not common, but shouldn’t interfere either. The tavern’s attention on me stops there."

"But at the same time, the security system, which costs the tavern at least 20 Oren coins a month, would increase its vigilance towards our room. Because this guest added money for his unique interest."

By the time the two checked into the tavern, it was night, the wooden stairs showing an amber hue under the candlelight.

When Lann led Alia upstairs, he nodded at a burly Skellige man wearing a horned helmet.

It seemed that man was one of the seven warriors.

"So." Alia furrowed her brow silently, only speaking softly upon ascending another floor, with no sight of the warriors.

"What will you be doing tonight? If you want ample security, why not stay in Airetusa? Lady Margarita to you..."

"Don’t underestimate a large organization, Alia."

Before the young girl could finish, Lann interrupted her.

"When a Demon Hunter possesses alchemical knowledge even Warlocks find intriguing, once I realized that, I understood. I can go about day-to-day life in Airetusa but cannot do what I’m about to outside of it."

"Neither Margaret nor Tishaya can represent all of Airetusa’s will but rather most of it. Come in—"

The door to the guest room was opened, Lann led the young girl inside and removed the alchemy pouch from her shoulders.

In the "jingle-jangle" of glass bottles clinking, Lann began to meticulously arrange the planned potions and equipment according to plan.

He started bustling around the room, moving furniture here, lifting carpets there.

Alia was bewilderedly shuffled about by his actions within the room.

"Soon you must go downstairs alone, casually eating the meal attached to our room, cough, this carpet is really dusty! ... then return near midnight."

Busy as he was, Lann gave instructions to the bewildered young girl.

"There are three scenarios you might witness when you return."

"In the first scenario, I seem to be sitting in the room as if nothing happened, though the room might be a bit messy."

"In the second scenario, I will look as ghastly as the night I rescued you from traffickers, like a corpse. And unconscious. If so, you need to make me drink this."

Arranged together, three different types of potions, at least three bottles of each. The last one, a milky white, Lann held up to indicate to Alia behind him.

"And in the worst-case third scenario... you’ll see me unconscious, with my chest cavity exposed."

"In that case, whatever’s left of the first two potions, you need to pour into me until I regain consciousness or the chest cavity heals, then give me the milky potion."

Alia nodded in the overwhelming flow of chaotic information and then suddenly shook her head with a terrified expression.

"But... why me?"

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