Bear School Astartes

Lann, while putting his gloves back on, pushed open the door to Tishaya’s room and walked out with the Female Warlock.

The two of them looked quite normal.

Although the Demon Hunter’s body recovers Magic Power quickly, Lann, being an exception, possesses extraordinary reserves and an exceptionally fast recovery rate.

However, compared to a Female Warlock of Tishaya’s level, it’s still rather shallow.

After lowering her entire body’s sensitivity, Tishaya drained Lann more than twenty times.

Yet, this was only to restore her Magic Power to a fraction, even a one-hundredth, of what it was before casting the spell.

She still felt empty, but at least not feverish to the point that even her brain’s response was slow by several beats.

Externally, she appeared barely normal.

This relieved the researchers and scholars who had noticed something was off with Tishaya but, out of caution and lack of understanding of Magic, didn’t pry earlier but now came over to show concern.

"I’m starting to doubt if this place is suitable for a vacation now."

Tishaya and Lann walked on the wooden staircase towards the Weapon and Mountain Cat Pavilion for lunch, smiling and nodding to the occasional greeting scholars passing by.

"The uncomfortable feeling of losing replenish-able Chaos Magic Power... If it were Margaret just now, you wouldn’t be spared until late into the night."

As her body felt better, Tishaya had the mind to joke a bit with her student.

"Wow." Lann maintained a deadpan expression while playing along.

For him, the low Magic Power phase wasn’t very exhausting, and the recovery was quick, so he didn’t mind too much.

"Do you still need my help?"

Lann asked Tishaya.

"You’ve recovered very little now, and I’m not under much pressure, just need to eat more."

If an ordinary Demon Hunter were drained of Magic Power in this way, even with sufficient nutrition to maintain body functions, they would probably feel empty and weak.

Because the conversion rate of nutrition within the body can’t keep up with the rapid pace.

But Lann’s genetically enhanced high-energy blood allows for very high conversion rates and storage efficiency of nutrients entering the body, meeting the Female Warlock’s demands.

However, after a couple more steps, Tishaya stopped, thought for a bit, and then shook her head.

"Never mind."

"Tishaya." Lann called out her name and scratched his head in resignation. "You don’t have to worry about what happened before. It’s about your physical condition, and it was just a harmless accident."

"No."

Despite Lann’s words, the Female Warlock hesitated slightly but stuck to her decision.

"The Chaos Magic Power in my body is already enough to maintain a normal physical state, and although I can’t cast Magic in this condition now."

"But it’s just as well. I want to take this time to curb my reliance on Magic instincts. This might help me make progress in more theoretical research fields."

"Throughout my life, Magic has always felt too convenient."

"Theoretical fields?" Lann became curious, looking at the Female Warlock in slight surprise. "Like what?"

Tishaya glanced at the young Demon Hunter, feeling like a bit of an eye roll, but paired with her current blush, it made her seem even more charming.

"Like the Elf Beacon you used to record the world’s passage. Regardless of which Elf created this beacon, conducting teleportation and positioning studies from the perspective of ’the world’ has already greatly assisted me."

"I’m looking forward to more insights from this Elf Beacon."

For areas he didn’t quite understand, Lann didn’t say much further.

He shrugged and made a theatrical, exaggerated gesture: "Your body, your decision, madam."

Having said that, they had just finished the wooden staircase and stepped into the Weapon and Mountain Cat Pavilion located on the third level of the Star Base.

Tishaya went alone to find a stone table to sit at.

Feeling deliberately avoided, Lann didn’t fret, as they had just experienced an awkward situation, maintaining distance now was beneficial.

He went over to join Belengar, and with Belengar, sat at a table with the second expedition team’s leader.

Today’s meal was seafood cheese risotto, paired with a large braised Herbivorous Dragon steak, and beer flavored with pineapple.

If one didn’t want to eat the daily standard meal, for an extra charge or by using their accumulated investigation points, they could have the head chef make a specified meal.

Lann had investigation points, accumulated from a series of tasks last time.

But he found nothing wrong with the daily meal, especially as all the ingredients were fresh, matched with the head chef’s skill, and the almost overflowing vitality from New Continent’s plants and animals.

What more could one ask for?

After lining up to get three portions of today’s meal, Lann sat down at the table with the other two, carrying the tray.

"Bang, bang, bang," the sound of the heavy trays hitting the table resonated. The food of the New Continent Expedition Team was as rugged as ever, but also as sturdy and substantial.

"Appetite’s good today, I see." Belengar, holding an empty scallop shell, raised an eyebrow at Lann.

As he spoke, he moved his tray closer to the second expedition team’s leader, making space.

Lann didn’t hold back, and immediately laid out his three portions, eating as he spoke, "Today took a lot out of me."

The one-eyed bald man with dark skin held his large wine glass and chuckled.

"Dealing with a forty-meter-long Terror Tyrannosaurus carcass, it would be absurd if it didn’t exhaust you."

Although the ’exhaustion’ mentioned by the other party was not quite what he intended to express, Lann simply shook his head and pulled out a skewer from his plate to eat.

When the head chef processes the dragon ribs, he habitually sprinkles strong liquor on the stone slab at the bar, lights it, and covers it to smother.

After smothering, he cuts the tender and juicy dragon ribs into mahjong-sized pieces, skewers them on iron sticks and grills them briefly over an open flame.

When serving, the iron skewers are stuck into the plate.

"The Fog Nest Master’s body was processed today, and I doubt there will be any issues."

Speaking of bodies, Lann mentioned it to the leader of the second expedition team.

"Are you interested in those materials? You can keep a bit more if you want."

Originally, Lann thought that for such rare monster materials that many craftsmen might never encounter in their lifetime, the other party should be excited.

But after saying that, Lann noticed the leader of the second team hesitantly put down his cup and rubbed his wiry beard.

"Ah, Terror Tyrannosaurus materials." He sighed, then sighed again, "Ah, Fog Nest Master!"

Appearing as both disdainful and desirous.

Apparently, in this world’s circle of craftsmen, materials from the Terror Tyrannosaurus were considered unlucky.

Its olive-green skin was slippery and tough, full of messy scars from old wounds and blood crusts from brutal hunts.

It smelled bad and was difficult to handle.

Additionally, its destructive impact on the ecosystem and the terrifying hunting pose made craftsmen generally consider it unlucky to handle this material.

"Oh, it’s symbolic bad luck." Belengar understood these unspoken rules and sentiments prevalent in the blacksmith industry.

He was quite content and nodded, "Then let me handle it! Perfect for practice, and you can assist by supervising."

The Old Demon Hunter’s long face turned to the leader of the second expedition team.

Arriving in this New Continent, he increasingly found the monsters here unbelievable, and felt the techniques to ’truly utilize’ these monster materials were impressive, wanting to learn himself.

Being a trainee, it’s best to start by picking up the dirty work the master isn’t willing to do, and get familiar along the way.

Belengar understood this approach.

The leader of the second expedition team was quite pleased, having someone handle the troublesome early processing of Terror Tyrannosaurus materials. He was naturally happy.

He laughed heartily, and the two blacksmiths clinked their glasses.

The swaying wine released a pineapple scent.

"You two... seem quite close. I thought you would be at odds."

Lann watched their interaction and took a sip, commenting with interest.

"You literally met half a day ago."

"Craftsmen don’t complicate conversations." Belengar wiped the beer foam from his mouth with the back of his hand, "Especially those like us who are straightforward craftsmen."

Lann tilted his head speechlessly.

"And don’t think I don’t know why you brought me here."

The Old Demon Hunter gave Lann a cold laugh.

"Only to introduce a vacation resort? That’s a lot of effort."

"Hehe." Lann shrugged and smiled, "I can’t fool you."

As he smiled, Belengar couldn’t keep a straight face.

The Old Demon Hunter habitually turned his head, diverting his gaze.

The rough-natured leader of the second team was unaffected.

"This morning, we were both examining the spoils you brought." The one-eyed bald man started to speak passionately, his single eye practically glimmering!

"Great stuff! Extremely strong in terms of physical defense and has good resistance to high temperatures."

"But time was limited, we haven’t tested resistance to lightning, low temperature, or water attributes. By the way, whose craftsmanship shaped this scale and dragon skin? It’s excellently done!"

"Belengar told you about the owner of these dragon scales and skin, right? Dwarves whose country was conquered by it."

While enjoying seafood juice-tinted, cheese-melting yellow rice, Lann spoke.

"They made it for me, saying the strength of the scales reached a point where it was hard to process; they simply ground it into usable scale armor to prevent anyone being helpless."

"Ha, looking down on whom?"

Belengar pouted stubbornly, but ultimately added sincerely.

"But their skills are indeed high, these roughly processed dragon scale armor can be further refined into diverse structures."