Astartes of the Bear School

Chapter 85: 85 silver hair



Chapter 85: 85 silver hair

Chapter 85 85.Silver Hair

Early the next morning, Lan En and Aaliya left the room at the Yinlu Tavern.

The two orens he paid earlier were enough to pay for the extra cleaning of the bed, so he didn't pay any more.

At the check-out counter, Lan sent Aria to get Poppy out first, while he seemed to have unintentionally mentioned it to the bartender who was paying the bill.

Are you the only one working here?

Yes, sir, the job of a bartender is not busy. You also need to be able to keep accounts and do calculations, so I am the only one here. I have been working here for more than ten years.

This middle-aged man with a towel on his shoulders is nothing like the "bartender" last night.

Even when I first came to Yinlu Tavern, the person I saw was not him.

In other words, the moment he set foot on Gos Velen for the first time, the "thing" who called himself Gaunt O'Dem was already waiting here.

What a headache.

Lan En doesnt feel honored to be targeted by that thing that can observe the future and modify reality.

Especially when that thing seems to have a bad-tempered personality.

The witcher didn't talk to the bartender any more.

He turned around and walked out of the tavern, took Poppy, who was dragged by Aria, and walked out.

The much deflated alchemy leather bag was shaking on the horse's butt. Lann climbed onto the horse and dragged Arya behind him.

Leaning down on the horse, he touched the bridge of Popper's nose. He shook his head and snorted with moisture.

It seems that it had a good rest last night.

Sir, your hair?

Behind Lan En, Aaliya reminded him softly, slightly worried.

From the little girl's perspective, after one night, the knight she was following had already turned a lot of white at the root of her hair.

Although this kind of whiteness is similar to molten silver, it shines with luster.

Rather than the greyness of aging.

But the mysterious alchemy last night that changed so much overnight couldn't be the kind that burns life, right?

In Aria's hometown, rumors about magic and alchemy always come with a heavy price.

This made her worried.

"No, don't worry." Lan En put on his hood as if nothing had happened.

Last nights alchemy was very successful, and this is one of the manifestations of success.

In fact, in the rough memory obtained by Lan En, individuals transplanted with the same type of gene seeds will show different degrees of convergence.

And the gene seed called "Emperor's Son" in his chest seemed to have a high probability of turning the transplant recipient into a handsome silver-haired man.

Its just about appearance, and its a change for the better that improves your appearance.

Lann quickly accepted this.

After all, which man would refuse to become handsome and fierce?

Its impossible, okay!

The sturdy mare slowly picked up speed from the trot until she was galloping on the deserted streets in the early morning.

The experience of talking to an unknown "thing" last night seemed to be unable to shake Lan En's will at all.

Let alone an unknown "thing", if God wants to play with you, why should you just stand there and not resist?

Lan is not such a person.

If the opponent is too high for him, it is like "a tiger biting the sky, with nowhere to start".

Then he will do his own thing step by step.

Since you can't interfere with your opponent, ensure your own steady progress.

First of all, whether it is tempering and adapting to your current combat effectiveness, or completing the employment mission with Arethusa College.

Or simply, to express one's disgust and anger towards the slave trade and cannibalism.

He needs to go to Vizima.

Then kill the head-eater and his buyer!

~~~~~~

The capital of Temeria, Vizima.

In a gorgeous house located in the trading area, the head-eater, Ubank, was sitting in a row of waiting seats outside the study with a nervous expression.

In this huge mansion, soldiers wearing military armor patrol back and forth from time to time.

Their armor configuration is similar to the Temerian standard armor, which is a simple composite armor. However, the white lily emblem is not printed on the outer blouse. Instead, it is plain black.

At various entrances, exits and corners of the manor, there are tall warriors wearing shiny plate armor guarding them, with their faces even protected by visors.

This kind of warrior with full plate armor, even if he is surrounded by a group of people on the battlefield, he will have to beat him for a while to kill the warrior inside.

Soldiers who can move freely while wearing this kind of armor are more likely to take advantage of this period to swing their weapons, dance like a windmill, and cause a **** storm.

To put it simply, one armored soldier is enough to kill five unarmored warriors.

However, armored soldiers were also targets of massacre in front of full plate armored soldiers.

Ubank sat here and looked around. All he could see was the closed study door and the corner of the corridor.

But just sitting there for a while and watching the soldiers passing by at the corner of the corridor was enough to massacre the camp he worked so hard to run in Willen.

And he also knew clearly that this manor was huge and deep, and there were definitely more guards than he saw.

Regardless of the power represented by these guards, the area occupied by this manor in the trading area is enough to indicate the prominent status of its owner.

Vizima is not only the capital of Temeria, it is also a central place where roads meet.

We will not discuss the old Vizima city that is still a little scary because of the old events, nor will we discuss the Temple District, a worthless gathering place for poor people and criminals, but only the most important trading area.

The city was crowded with merchants and goods brought in by rivers and land routes.

Bureaucrats who hold power and desire security and convenience fill the gaps in the trade zone.

It is rumored that when Foltest moved the palace due to the "Vampire Bird Incident", he had to make concessions in the area of the palace because of the prosperous trade and the persuasion of the bureaucracy.

Ubank was thinking aimlessly when the study door suddenly opened.

Expensive workmanship makes this door even though it is thick and strong, it still does not make noise.

The warlock, Safra, is still dressed in light leather armor and a scarf covering the bridge of his nose.

He walked out of the study with a frown on his face, looking like he was not very satisfied with the conversation just now.

Above the turban, cold eyes swept over Ubank like a poisonous snake.

Let this tall and strong man from the Skellige Islands sneer and shrink up like a little chicken.

Its your turn, head-eater, ha.

As if he was particularly disdainful of this nickname, Safra sneered.

I wish you good luck, and I hope the adults can listen to your explanation. Anyway, because of this mistake, I have to be busy for a while.

After saying that, the bald and turbaned warlock walked away.

Ubank stood up and watched him leave with a doggy smile.

Then he walked towards the study door.

After the door was closed, Urbank's humble smile towards Safra suddenly disappeared.

Sir, hes gone.

In the study room, a well-dressed middle-aged man was playing with a small carriage model.

How does he look?

"very ugly."

"That's good."

Getting the answer, the middle-aged man nodded.

As a warlock, Safra is very capable and has great desires, but I can satisfy him even if he is twice as big. But I cant just let him get what he wants.

Power and money have to go through twists and turns before they become more precious. When I use them, they will become more convenient.

But you are different, Urbank.

Hearing the discussion about himself, the head-eater bowed his head humbly and remained silent.

"You don't have the skills of a warlock as a capital, so you come with nothing. So I will give you whatever I can, because you are in a hurry. Moreover, your brains and your skills often make me feel that I am getting something for you. Worth it. But this time

The respectable middle-aged man put down the carriage model in his hand and raised his head.

He who eats his head lowers his head.

Give me an explanation, Urbank.

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