Bear School Astartes-Chapter 804 - 787: The Hall and the Fireplace

Lann began to untie the Magic Rune Cloth and horse armor from the Qilin.

The badges on the chests of the three Demon Hunters began to tremble slightly.

"You’ve equipped a horse with all these things?"

Geralt raised an eyebrow and asked.

"Though I know you’re quite wealthy, and this horse indeed looks imposingly strong. But... tsk, tsk, tsk."

His mature, hoarse voice made it easy for people to sense the sarcasm when he said such things.

Lann felt that this guy must have suffered a lot and offended many for his mouth.

Under the hanging, yet-to-be-fully-removed Rune Cloth, the Qilin’s eyes, like red crystals, stared at Geralt, who stood with arms crossed appraising it.

With a "huff," the Qilin snorted loudly, and a thin blue arc burst from its fur.

Lann, who was removing its gear, had his silver hair stand on end instantly.

"Hey! We agreed! Control!"

Lann slapped the Qilin’s rump, complaining aloud.

"I don’t have Rune Cloth to shield me here!"

The Qilin then tossed its head, choosing to ignore Geralt in irritation.

As soon as Lann took down all the equipment except for the Magic Leg Ring, Geralt finally saw the full picture of this Ancient Dragon for the first time.

"For the sake of pestilence and plague..."

The White Wolf lost his critic’s stance of judgment while standing with arms crossed.

His mouth opened uncontrollably, and his always calm and steady eyes widened.

"A unicorn? Alive?!"

The Qilin’s gray horn had completely grown out during the course of the journey.

The spiral-shaped gray horn presented a rich blue-purple energy color, resembling a shimmering energy crystal.

"The books don’t depict it like this."

"Because this isn’t a unicorn."

Lann said to a bewildered Geralt, while patting the Qilin’s ribs.

The Qilin immediately neighed joyfully, prancing its hooves, and ran toward Ker Morhan’s walls.

In just a few moves, it scaled the vertical wall, then leapt off the castle, and headed into the mountains to play.

"Aren’t you going to follow and play?"

Lann turned back, leaning down to ask Rong Buqiu, who had just jumped off the Qilin’s back and was standing on the ground, curiously looking around.

Rong Buqiu smacked its lips, adjusting its little cat helmet.

"Nothing fun to play with the Qilin, meow, I’m eager to train now."

So driven, huh?

Rong Buqiu’s words, filled with self-awareness and diligence, made Lann internally despise the Qilin a little more.

Thinking that this Ancient Dragon would sooner or later be outdone by the Elu Cat.

Meanwhile, Geralt, rubbing his chin, watched Rong Buqiu speaking, standing, and moving like a person.

At that moment, his high tolerance for the supernatural as a Demon Hunter came into play.

"Seems you’ve seen some interesting things after that war?"

Lann put the Magic equipment removed from the Qilin into his Alchemy Pouch, clapped his hands, and spoke in a relaxed tone.

"We’ve got a lot to talk about, now you can start hosting the guests."

"I was invited by Vesemir back then, and after such a journey of rough living... You know what I mean?"

Geralt laughed so hard that his shoulders shook.

"Of course, of course. I happen to know Vesemir has a barrel of Niflgaard lemon wine, from the year 1237."

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In the main hall on the first floor of Ker Morhan, there was a large wooden table near the fireplace.

The whole first floor hall was spacious yet messy.

The high castle dome and the marble floor full of cracks told stories of the castle’s bright past.

Now, speaking quietly would bring out a lonely echo.

The remaining Demon Hunters evidently did not pay much attention to decor, or simply had no interest in it.

Alchemy equipment, large wooden storage boxes, jars for storing monster organs, and even a dissected Qiqimo - a mid-sized canine-like insect creature’s corpse displayed on the table.

This creature’s social structure resembles ants and bees, invasive from the ancient celestial convergence period, hugely destructive to the natural ecosystem.

Because the creature’s body is highly toxic, scholars usually deem it impossible to dissect and study.

However, for Demon Hunters, having a bottle of White Honey within reach completes the preparation.

The skills exhibited on the Qiqimo’s corpse showed this wasn’t the first dissection.

Geralt added more firewood to the hall’s fireplace.

The size of this furnace matched the hall, nearly five meters long, deep enough to burn a large tree trunk directly.

"Without a furnace this big, even Demon Hunters couldn’t survive the winter in this hall. The mountains are too cold, and the weather has been getting colder over decades."

Geralt stoked the fire, and the smoke from the burning wood was drawn up through the castle flue.

In the warm light, three Demon Hunters and one Three-Floral Kitten sat around the big wooden table.

Geralt took out Vesemir’s hidden wine, tapped a faucet into the barrel, and poured some for everyone.

"Your drink, little cat."

"Thank you, meow, but I don’t drink." The small paws of the Three-Floral Kitten waved. "A good warrior should stay alert, meow!"

"Ha, suit yourself. Every good warrior I’ve seen loves a drink."

Geralt sat with his cup, dressed today only in a white linen shirt, breeches, and boots.

"You don’t seem to be cold."

Lann sipped from his cup and said.

Belengar, beside him, didn’t drink, just looked around the hall with a complex expression.

"Yes, it’s early summer now, this temperature feels nice." Geralt nodded indifferently. "But not for Ciri, she’s too young. The mountain chill is heavy, this furnace was lit for her, you’re just lucky to join her."

"Alright~" Lann drawled, raising his cup high, "To Ciri."

The other two Demon Hunters kindly raised their cups with a smile.

Rong Buqiu looked around blankly, then took a shoulder-hung water bottle to ’meow’ tap as well.

After the first round of drinks, the atmosphere became much warmer.

The shadow in Belengar’s eyes lessened, he relaxed in the hall he knew so well but hadn’t seen for a long time.

"Speaking of Ciri, where’s she now?"

Lann casually mentioned, not intending to hide anything, and Geralt didn’t either.

"She’s out running the ’killer course’."