Bear School Astartes-Chapter 598 - 601. Full mobilization of the army

Chapter 598: 601. Full mobilization of the army
"The news about the Demon Hunter is indeed good, but it’s not precious enough."
"But that is no ordinary Demon Hunter, that’s Lann from Sintra! The Hunting Marquis! Without him, the monster, those refugees would never have escaped from here."
Darkley struggled to garner attention for the intelligence he provided.
Yet, Duke Adal remained absent-minded as he spoke.
"Alright, monster... haha."
Monster?
What kind of monster could resist the five hundred members of the Nausicca Cavalry Squad?
What kind of monster could withstand the five hundred Black Infantry Archers?
Or rather, what kind of monster could stand against two thousand soldiers from the Niflgaard Infantry Legion?
A monster... seriously, as an excuse for unsuccessful warfare, this reason is really conveniently laughable.
These outsiders are truly enough... Purebred Niflgaard people would never be so inept, nor would they shamelessly find reasons for their failure.
Duke Adal Epp Dasrcy was already a bit impatient.
Darkley keenly sensed the emotions of the thigh he clung to and offered his final trump card.
"Lann of Sintra is indeed insignificant before your force, my lord. But..."
"But what if, the Demon Hunter has a little girl with mouse-gray hair beside him?"
In the dim candlelight that was brightened as much as possible, the Duke stood up with a ’bang’!
His armor clanged, and the chair behind him was directly knocked over.
"Are you saying... you found the person His Majesty is looking for?"
The Duke’s eyes widened, sparkling with joy.
The Demon Hunter is not important.
Lann of Sintra, this special Demon Hunter, is not very important.
But the combination of the Demon Hunter and the little girl with mouse-gray hair—extremely important!
His Majesty Enshir ordered the intelligence officers under his command to form a special task force mainly for this purpose!
Had it not been for Darkley, the commander of this special task force, secretly connecting with him, even Duke Adal would never have known this top-secret information.
He actually was not clear why the Emperor wanted this combination.
But he knew well, whoever accomplished this task would earn great favor!
For the Emperor’s trust and favor, Darkley’s intel was worth it!
"Are you sure? Darkley, I need you to be responsible for your intelligence!"
"Of course, my lord."
With Darkley’s affirmation, the Duke immediately excitedly rubbed his hands together and began pacing around the room.
"Aha! Luck is here!"
The Duke murmured as he came around, immediately beginning to mobilize the army.
"A group of refugees without even horses thinks they can run far? Chase them! I want to find them!"
"Then..." Darkley timely reminded "Lann of Sintra?"
"Hmm?" Duke Adal first appeared puzzled, wondering if there was any need for Darkley to ask about this.
Then, he dismissively said, "A Demon Hunter, huh. A Demon Hunter... he better not be crying when he sees my army and understands what this unit represents."
"Alright, stop wasting time... mobilize the troops!"
-----------------
Meanwhile, in the refugee camp tonight, no one slept.
But Lann never expected that he and Ged, while comforting each other at dusk, said ’As long as we escort the refugees for one last day, we’d fulfill our duty.’
But by night, they would encounter such a situation.
Everything was fine initially; people whispering, laughing joyfully.
Families hugged each other, friends cried on each other’s shoulders, all celebrating their imminent escape from suffering tomorrow.
It was already late at night, just hours away from sunrise, continuing to walk towards a new nation untouched by the ravages of war.
Beginning their new life after suffering.
"These clichéd dramatic scenes can only happen in reality," Dandelion asserted, pointing emphatically to the moving scenes around him.
"If I added such an ending to my ballads, I would certainly be ridiculed to death."
"You said it." Ciri sat beside Geralt, leaning on him. Her eyes stared blankly at the scenes, speaking softly.
"I used to never be able to watch such performances, only liked watching battles and fights, until now..."
Geralt didn’t say much, merely continued combing Ciri’s mouse-gray hair with his hand.
In settled life arises sparks longing for passion, but when tranquility fades, these sparks yearn for peace.
Ged sat on one side looking somewhat desolate; Dandelion thought he was still brooding over the curses from a survivor at dusk, and so he joked.
"What’s wrong, old bear? Do you still expect someone to thank the Demon Hunter?"
The poet exaggerated his expression purposely.
"Geralt had already long since given up such fantasies back when we first met, look how calm he is now."
"You said it right." Ged didn’t argue, just lightly nodded with a smile.
"What could Demon Hunters possibly desire? Bouquets of gratitude, saints’ ointments... these things never related to us."
Lann wanted to pat his shoulder in comfort.
But before his hand could fall, a sharp, thin voice stopped them. A little girl with braided hair and freckles rushed up. She gasped for breath, holding a large bunch of wildflowers.
"Thank you." she squeaked, "Thank you for looking after me, my brother, and my mom. Thank you for being so good to us. I picked some flowers for you."
She didn’t appear hungry but still looked emaciated, a sign of spending much energy.
At her age, resting was most needed.
"Thank you." Amidst everyone’s daze, Ciri instead accepted the bunch of wildflowers—or rather, beautiful wild grass, after all, it’s winter.
"You are good people." The little girl bit her braid and added.
"Demon Hunters are good people; you’re not monsters! You just look a bit sturdy, that’s all."
"And you, Uncle Dandelion, you’re definitely not some chatterbox idiot. What mom said isn’t true."
"That truly comforts me." Lann said softly as he patted the girl’s head, making her shyly lower her head. "Go back to your mom and brother, dear girl. After today, everything will be alright."
Then the little girl bounced away.
The Demon Hunter and their friends were visibly in better spirits after this event.
But the improved mood didn’t last long.
Because soon, along with the sound of a steel staff hitting the ground and the clatter of many armors, arrived at the Demon Hunter’s tent.
"Please come out and talk, Demon Hunters."
In the past, Hacksaw would respectfully address the Demon Hunters as ’masters,’ but today it was clear there was no respect.
The former Royal Steward’s tone was serious and filled with justice.
"We need to talk about your matters."