Bear School Astartes

Naturally, Lincoln stood behind Lann’s seat, just like he was still on the battlefield.

Lann himself, however, stood up with a goblet in hand, patted the back of the chair, motioning for Lincoln to sit down.

Instead, he approached the headmaster’s desk and half-sat against the table, leaning back.

Fortunately, the furniture in the headmaster’s office had all been reinforced and enlarged. Otherwise, with his current physique and weight, along with the armor, very few ordinary pieces of furniture could bear him.

The long velvet-covered sofa under Margaret and Tishaya looked nearly the size of a bed.

No one knows what considerations Margaret had when she replaced the furniture to this size.

Lincoln was not pretentious, and after Lann gave a silent directive through his actions, he promptly sat down.

He sat properly, still like he was in the barracks.

And not just any kind of barracks.

In this era, discipline and order were not heavily emphasized in military camps.

It was not unheard of for soldiers to coerce their commanders in battle.

Many followed the army with the intent to trade with the large number of people gathered by the military.

Outside the camp were all sorts of merchants and prostitutes, almost like a marketplace.

The kind of discipline Lincoln displayed now, resembling a modern army, was developed step by step, spontaneously during the tactical discussions and organizational improvements by the Ember Knights.

This indeed suited Lann’s tastes more.

"Have you been at Airetusa all this time?"

Lann asked with a mischievous smile, but before Lincoln could answer, he continued.

"How does it feel? In a place full of imagination for men from outside the academy?"

"Lady Margarita granted me access to move freely above the academy level at Luoxia Palace, for which I am grateful."

Lincoln handled his master’s teasing question with ease, or perhaps he was used to it. He first offered a flawlessly polite compliment before he answered.

"Indeed, a few apprentices at the academy seemed to want to maintain a physical relationship with me for a while. But I feel the outsiders’ description of the academy’s atmosphere is not quite accurate."

"Those female sorcerer apprentices clearly separate satisfying physiological needs from other things. After their needs are met, they invest their energy elsewhere. This is quite straightforward."

"People need sex, it’s normal. But it’s even more normal for people to devote more energy to getting things done."

Lann nodded noncommittally: "It sounds like you’ve formed mutually satisfying relationships with some ladies?"

"No." Lincoln said in surprise, "As you mentioned, blindly wasting energy would lead to a decline in physical functions, wouldn’t it? It’s already challenging for us to become stronger. I don’t have extra energy to spare for others."

This statement brought a hearty, albeit muffled, laugh from Margarita, behind her wine cup.

The Demon Hunter scratched his chin, deciding to discuss the real issue.

"After we teleported away, when was the Fog Nest Master... or rather, the Terror Tyrannosaurus corpse also teleported?"

The variations in the flow of time between worldscapes are far too profound for current knowledge to comprehend.

So Lann simply asked for the result.

"The Terror Tyrannosaurus corpse disappeared suddenly in the sixteenth hour of us guarding it. We then cleaned up the scene per your orders and withdrew."

"No one saw it?"

"No, not in the subjective judgment of the ten Honored Swordsmen we had in total."

"Wasn’t the elven ruins quite close to the floating port? Didn’t Seward send anyone to check during that time?"

"In fact, he came personally." Lincoln added, sitting up straight. "Though, it was after all the battlefield commotion had ceased, when the day was bright, and there wasn’t a trace of fog on the mountain, only then did he dare to lead a team here."

"That scene was probably not too pleasant, huh?"

Lann’s smile on his lips was amused and intrigued.

He estimated the time in his mind; the Fog Nest Master was likely teleported away by the Lady of the Lake using the conical crystal as an anchor point, presumably by the afternoon.

"Certainly, my lord." Lincoln confirmed, but his tone remained calm.

"This matter was ordered by Veltrest for Seward to handle. Given the seriousness and the King watching, he obviously wouldn’t just take our word for it, with just lip service from us."

"So how did it develop later?"

"Please forgive me." Lincoln first apologized with a slight bow in his chair, "I punched him and also killed a White Rose Knight."

This time, Lann genuinely appeared surprised.

Because with his understanding of Lincoln, despite his youth, having served under Hacksaw’s influence in the Sintra Palace, he was usually very aware of the subtleties of etiquette and proceedings.

After experiencing the downfall and escape from Sintra, one should not only be aware but also capable of self-control in actions and emotions.

In theory, the time the Ember Knights were supposed to hold was not long.

Lann killed the Fog Nest Master late at night and arranged for the Ember Knights to guard. Sixteen hours later, the body disappeared, which was the following afternoon.

And when Seward dared to enter the mountains to search, it must have been close to noon.

Only a few hours later, the Ember Knights completed their task and could leave.

How could the situation escalate to the point of fatalities within a few hours?

Even if they were spouting bureaucratic nonsense, with Lincoln’s skills, he should easily have been able to stall for a few hours.

"Seward spoke disrespectfully to you, my lord." Lincoln’s response provided the answer, adding, "He was utterly terrified, resulting in him emotionally declaring you to be a ’mutant scumbag with cat eyes.’

"I thought he would say something more offensively vulgar." Lann smiled indifferently, already imagining what happened next.

"The moment he cursed, I knocked out one of his teeth." Lincoln’s subsequent words confirmed Lann’s thoughts. "Naturally, his White Rose Knight underlings dueled me."

"In the duel, I killed him, in two moves."

"Unfortunately, the remaining White Rose Knights seemed less courageous than the first, none dared to throw down the gauntlet for their lord’s dignity."

"Really? Never mind then." Lann shrugged with a wine glass in hand, "The White Rose Knights... from what we’ve seen, there seems to be nothing good among them. At least we didn’t kill the wrong person."

Yet Lincoln still frowned.

"But this might cause you trouble in Temeria’s political scene in the future."

"I sent a group of Squirrel Faction and a real dragon to Yaden, to start a peasant uprising, Lincoln." Lann chuckled at his secretary, "As long as there’s an appearance, do you really think I care about Temeria’s political scene?"

"Ultimately, I’m not here to mingle in Temeria’s political affairs."

Speaking these surprisingly shocking words calmly, Lann then took a sip from his glass and changed the subject.

"By the way, how are Sachia and Iophis’s group?"

"They’re good." This time it was Lady Margarita who spoke.

She leisurely swirled her wine glass: "I opened a portal and directly teleported them to within Yaden’s borders."

"That’s a villa I have privately in Guleta. If they’re smart enough, they can use the cash I left in the villa to keep themselves hidden."

The ’spare change’ the warlock mentioned likely equates to several months’ living expenses for an average family.

Needless to say, exchanging Sachia and the Squirrel Faction’s militant attire for casual wear shouldn’t be an issue.

"Means of contact?"

Lann methodically continued to confirm, while Lady Margarita responded with mutual understanding.

"I gave them a way to contact a messenger. It’s the academy’s messenger service, responsible for gathering mail from various Northern nations and delivering it en masse to the academy, where a few Yaden letters mixed in won’t look suspicious."

"Also, there’s an envelope in the second drawer, take a look."

Lann, rising from his half-leaning position on the table, followed Lady Margarita’s instructions to open the drawer and found the envelope.

The letter was from Novigrad, signed by ’Dudu Bieberwitt.’

Opening the envelope, it began with a courteous greeting. Dudu briefly discussed the current operation of Lann’s asset accounts.

And the financial management concerning the Dark Alley Gang.

Then, Dudu expressed his anxiety upon receiving his message about secretly funding a group to assist in the peasant uprising in Yaden.

After all, Shapeshifters are inherently kind and tend to resist violence.

Providing funds for a foreign violent organization felt daunting to him.

Although Novigrad is a Free City State with jurisdictional autonomy, geographically, it remains on Redania’s land?

And Redania’s intelligence system is world-renowned.

So, the timid Shapeshifter has recently felt paranoid, believing those around him might have ulterior motives and complex identities.

But even so, he stated he would still persist in funding the group with Sachia.

Even without mentioning the new ’Free City’ envisioned by Lann and Iophis, a prospect full of enormous benefits.

Just the goal of ’fighting racial persecution’ leaves the Shapeshifter with no hesitation; he definitely has to help.

Even if he is scared, he will still help.

In this world, racial persecution has already brewed acute conflicts, and now with the increasing hostile stance between the North and South, normally concealable issues are all becoming evident in the increasingly turbulent times.

Not long ago, a series of non-human race killings erupted again in Redania’s region. Although it can’t yet be termed a ’massacre,’ and the incidents mostly occurred in scattered rural areas rather than towns, the death toll is still significant.