Bear School Astartes

The city bathed in the blood-red sunset made Lann feel both familiar and unfamiliar.

The familiar part was the style.

Streets and houses piled up along the rugged terrain.

This showed the excellence in architectural techniques, but on the other hand, highlighted the immaturity and obsession in spatial planning.

It seemed that the crowd possessing such architectural skills never studied road and living planning.

A paradoxical assemblage.

The towering places are like high, solitary spires, while the low-lying areas are deep and sunless.

Gothic architecture is intricate and luxurious, yet hints of a noble cold-bloodedness and eeriness.

But the unfamiliarity lies in the city itself.

Its altitude was not as high as that of the Land of Blood Therapy Lann had visited before.

Its specific roads and buildings were also completely different from Yan’an, where Lann had been, as the terrain on which the buildings relied was completely different.

The city before him seemed not as ’well-equipped’ as Yan’an.

At least Lann still saw many unpaved roads, just bare yellow earth and rocks.

But just like the style of ’future’ Yan’an, this yellow earth did not evoke a sense of countryside or homeliness.

Instead, it felt like stepping into a decaying and somber ulceration.

Like stepping into a bottomless abyss.

In terms of the completeness of basic infrastructure, there’s no doubt that Yan’an in the night was superior.

When he smelled the specially made incense in the church, Lann was already seventy to eighty percent sure of his whereabouts.

No doubt, it should be the city pulled into several Phantom Dreams of aspiring Ancient Gods due to mankind’s blind and radical research.

The only thing puzzling the Demon Hunter was, at which time exactly was he?

The sunset shining on him indicated that the previous night has passed.

Could this be the city rebuilt by the Yan Nan People after the repetitive hunting night had passed?

Or something else?

But when Lann walked outside the church, saw today’s city with his own eyes, and gathered information from details with Mentos’ help, he understood.

This is not the ’future’... This is the ’past’.

The Old Yan’an that legend says was burned down in an unprecedented hunting night.

"But how... was this accomplished?"

Lann furrowed his brow, suppressing his doubts, while stepping toward this familiar yet unfamiliar mountain city.

The boots with outer dragon scale plates rubbed against the yellow earth on the steps, bringing an extremely real sensation.

Lann was mentally prepared for the existence of such power that transcends time.

Not to mention what Master William said when he left Yan’an.

Just say during the Magical Middle Ages, he even met the adult Ciri.

Time, when you think about it, is truly mystical and grand, but he indeed personally witnessed the power to transcend time.

What made Lann uncertain was, what exactly was his current situation?

Was it that the Celestial Sphere Convergence Rift, when linking to other worlds, naturally and automatically surpassed the flow of time and linked to this world’s past?

Or was his journey ’artificially’ interfered when he entered the Celestial Sphere Convergence Rift?

What role did the missing part of his memory play in all this?

As soon as he confirmed his presence in Old Yan’an, questions came flooding.

Sometimes Lann envied those not so perceptive people; at least their rapidly operating minds wouldn’t deduce so many questions from just a few scenes as his did.

Rong Buqiu and Qilin were not by his side, but Lann wasn’t too worried.

He felt this time those two hadn’t come with him at all, rather than being separated.

That was a judgment based on his physical condition, and he was quite sure he had just stepped out of the Celestial Sphere Convergence Rift.

That’s good.

Rong Buqiu and Qilin are not suited for such a world, although life on the New Continent is generally resilient.

But in this world, true threats aren’t simply monsters one can deal with using mere physical attacks.

"So." The synthesized voice echoed in his mind, "Once again, it’s a solitary journey, sir."

"That’s not an issue. I still have you." Lann shook his head indifferently; whether with a team or alone, he’s confident in himself.

But then, he saw the blood-red sunset about to hide in the tangled tips of Gothic architecture.

"Now the problem is, I slightly regret coming out of the church. Tsk."

Lann clicked his tongue displeasedly, vividly remembering the ’features’ of Yan’an’s night.

But having said that, Lann had no intention of turning back.

The Church, especially the one in Yan’an, left a deep impression on Lann.

Last time, during the Demon Hunter’s investigation on the hunting night, he traced his way to the Great Cathedral of the Healing Church.

Resulting in the Church’s agent transforming into a beast right before his eyes, which he then slew.

Although in the "future" of Yan’an, Lann held the Red Robed Witch at Oton Chapel, who sheltered the people, in great respect.

And just now, this Red Robed individual also genuinely seemed to care about him, making Lann feel quite at ease.

But the so-called Good Golden Cup Church?

Lann was not inclined to spend the night in a local church he knew nothing about in Yan’an.

"Looks like we’ll have to hope that tonight isn’t a hunting night, sir."

Mentos said calmly, seemingly not too worried.

Because if this really were Old Yan’an, then at this time, the beast plague wasn’t too severe yet.

Except for that final hunting night which led to the city’s destruction, the nights in Old Yan’an should have been more peaceful than those in the "future" Yan’an...if Henrik’s stories to Lann were true.

Without the ’reminiscence filter’ of an old man, that is.

"Sir, perhaps we could try finding an inn?"

"Considering Yan Nan People’s hospitality towards foreigners?" Lann joked dryly, stepping deeper into the city. "I doubt they really have an ’inn’ industry."

"Let’s walk and see. If it doesn’t work out, I can find a quiet alley, and consider it urban camping...tsk, how is this situation as lousy as last time?"

The blood-red, unsettling sunset was quickly descending beneath the towering and sharp Gothic architecture.

Darkness began to fall.

Along the winding and twisting roads, the Yan Nan People each returned home.

This place already resembled the "future" Yan’an, with a vast arrangement of public lighting facilities.

Just not as widespread; one can see the city was still developing.

For the second time, ’an antiquity’ donned in armor from a previous era, walked the roads of a Victorian-style city.

Undoubtedly, the attitude of Yan Nan People towards foreigners remained ’rustic and straightforward’.

The responses Lann received after knocking on a few doors felt all too familiar.

"Wandering at this hour, ah~ you must be a foreigner."

"Enjoy the night, foreigner. This is the Yan’an hospitality, hehehe."

"Filthy foreigner, it’s you who brought the gray blood disease! Get out! Away from my house!"

First, soft voices inquired cautiously through the door, followed by mocking derision and unapologetic exclusion, ending in laughter akin to watching a cruel farce.

"Compared to them, I always feel Velen’s farmers are at least mentally normal."

Lann quipped, while spreading out a large, thick mat on the ground in the alley.

He knelt on it, planning to get through the night with meditation.

While ensuring rest, he could maintain a certain level of alertness.

In Lann’s view, most of Velen’s farmers had some form of mental disorder.

Their constant precarious survival state left their minds intensely strained, yet somehow indifferent and resigned.

They were numb, lacking empathy, timid yet easily angered...

But Lann could understand, for these mental ailments stemmed from their harsh living conditions, and those farmers had no choice.

However, in Yan’an, the living environment wasn’t ’harsh’. After all, this was a Victorian-era city, far better than Velen’s mire pits.

It’s just that the living environment here was ’eerie’, ’dangerous’, ’abnormal’.

Lann chose a spot deep in a relatively wide alley.

Inside, some wooden boxes and barrels were piled haphazardly.

The Demon Hunter moved past these obstacles, intending to hide at the deepest point.

The ground was damp, with black, foul-smelling dirty water accumulating over the dark cobblestones.

Fortunately, Lann was not a financially struggling Demon Hunter in the usual sense.

He planned to dispose of the mat after using it.

The weather gradually grew colder with the approaching night.

On Yan’an’s moisture-laden stone streets, a blurry white fog began to emerge and drift.

The unnaturally bright moonlight pierced through the cold mist onto the cobblestones, reflecting strange light from the gathered moisture.

Yan’an fell silent.

Or rather... on the surface, it fell silent.

In meditation, a Demon Hunter’s body would rest, but the mind would enter a state akin to a Mage perceiving Chaos Magic Power.

This state, when entered appropriately, would bring clarity and agility to the mind, but if entered too often or by force, it would cause dizziness, like pulling several all-nighters.

Hence resting through meditation was not a technique unskilled Demon Hunters could easily grasp.

More often, this technique helped them squeeze out a few hours’ rest amidst a tight schedule.

But now...

"Hiss~"

A long and deep breath echoed calmly through the dark and disorderly alley.

Sounding like some large creature was crouched in the shadows at its end, breathing.

Then, a pair of amber cat eyes, faintly glowing in the shadows, slowly opened and gazed outside.