Chapter 556: 558. Ged, Geralt
Belengar’s words didn’t surprise Lann because back when Ged was still here, Lann handed Ged a letter for Geralt right in front of Belengar and entrusted him with the delivery.
However, when the news about the letter came from Belengar again, Lann couldn’t feel happy at all.
The young man’s eyes narrowed slightly as a sense of foreboding began to echo in his heart.
If Geralt received the letter before the war began and took Ciri away from Sintra, everything would be perfect.
But now Belengar is saying this...
"Do you have news?"
"Not good news."
Belengar puffed out a mouthful of smoke and said, without turning his head.
"Ged met that Wolf School kid named Geralt, according to his letter; they met within the borders of Videns, quite close to Sintra."
"Your letter clearly convinced Geralt, and Ged thought the distance was not far, so he decided to follow him all the way to pick up the Child of Destiny, and then..."
Belengar’s words stopped there, without continuing.
After hearing this, Lann blinked blankly: "You won’t tell me, the time they entered Sintra was exactly when..."
"The Niflgaard invasion began." Belengar said grimly, taking a deep puff from his pipe. "They got stuck in the muddy pit of that war."
The young man was first stunned, then slapped his forehead with a long sigh.
"Pa!"
"...Damn, like seeing a ghost?!"
But after the frustrated outburst, Lann quickly forced himself to calm down.
If it was earlier, he was only worried about Ciri, so though he didn’t know what the Niflgaard army and policies were really like, he was also ready to make a trip.
That trip was more with a mindset of doing one’s best.
But now... Geralt and Ged are both his friends, and his two friends are trapped in the war mire because of his letter.
The meaning of going towards Sintra has now changed drastically in Lann’s heart.
He believes he has a responsibility towards these two friends.
Opening those amber cat eyes once more, the young man’s eyes were devoid of casualness, but also had no sudden shock... only determination.
"Seems like you’ve made up your mind."
Belengar laughed as he witnessed Lann’s change of heart nearby.
Lann is such a person, Belengar knew.
He would care for his friends and help them wholeheartedly. And if those friends got into trouble because of him, he felt he was responsible for getting them out of it.
Just like how Lann couldn’t understand why the usually indulgent Margaret had such a sense of responsibility towards the Airetusa apprentices.
Belengar also didn’t understand where a cub, both mentally and physically supposed to be ruthless, got such a sense of responsibility and warmth for friends.
Even if he extended it to all Demon Hunters, Belengar didn’t think there would be many like him.
But faced with such a Demon Hunter oddball as Lann, he couldn’t help but... he couldn’t hate him at all.
"Even for those two fools, there’s no choice but to go this time... trouble."
The young man’s words unceremoniously insulted Ged and Geralt, but Belengar just wanted to laugh.
"Then prepare, let’s set off as soon as possible."
Speaking, the Master Blacksmith among the Demon Hunters pulled out four swords from under his workbench.
Two silver swords, two steel swords.
Two weighted balls were carved into wolf heads, and two into roaring bear heads.
Lann’s former swords stayed in Belengar’s hands for a good while; blueprints for the Bear School’s steel and silver twin swords were already drawn from them.
Elegant and efficient sword shapes, leather-wrapped grips, fish-skin-covered scabbards... swords from the hands of a Grandmaster-level Blacksmith were worthy of being exhibited as art.
With a pleasant "zing," the Bear School Steel Sword unsheathed in Belengar’s hand.
And on the blade was not the traditional smooth edge but wave-like patterns, black lines resembling black smoke.
"Valerian steel forged twin swords of Bear and Wolf Schools, it took me four days to figure out how to plate silver on the Valerian steel core."
Belengar proudly stroked the blade and slung all four swords on his back, looking eager to set off.
But Lann sat there, elevating his gaze to deadpan at him.
"I say... you’re not planning to come with me, right?"
"Otherwise?"
Belengar glared at Lann as if he were an idiot.
"I tell you the news, then you decide to walk into the center of the war, it sounds like I pushed you there."
"You can’t accept Ged and Geralt being trapped in war because of your letter, can you expect me to accept you rushing into the war center alone because of my message?"
"Lann, what kind of person do you take me for?"
The young man calmly said: "I take you for a friend who finally got a stable retirement life."
"This retirement life was also earned with your help."
Belengar crossed his arms, meeting Lann’s gaze as he sat. He was unceremonious to the point where, despite expressing gratitude, it felt like he wanted a confrontation.
Clearly, he insisted on going along.
But as the atmosphere became increasingly unfriendly, Lann suddenly asked.
"How many can you handle?"
"What?"
"How many ordinary Niflgaardian soldiers can you handle? Full armor with crossbows, plus sword and shield or axe and spear."
Belengar’s previously aggressive expression suddenly froze.
Yet Lann’s remarks hadn’t stopped.
"If I remember correctly..." Lann intentionally stretched out the last part, looking at the old Demon Hunter with a subtle gaze.
"Someone once got ambushed by several crossbows and was ruined in a single encounter, right?"
"They ambushed..."
The Old Demon Hunter was choked by the topic. He muttered, clearly lacking confidence, ultimately saying things like "ambushes can’t be considered losing."
"Considering ’ambush’ as an attack advantage, in Sintra, Niflgaard’s advantage must be far bigger."
Lann offered rational persuasion without mockery.
"They have numerical superiority, their weapons cover long, medium, and short ranges, they even have heavy cavalry, siege weapons, mage support... Compared to these, can ambush still be considered an advantage? Can you confidently handle it?"
At the end, Lann placed his hand on Belengar’s shoulder.
"Thank you, mate. But be sensible; a retired person shouldn’t go fighting anymore."
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