Bear School Astartes

This meeting was actually just a joint operation of the Healing Church and Byron Vis, merely informing the hunters who were the main force of the operation.

Regardless of whether Maria had doubts, the operation itself would not stop due to anyone’s suspicion.

After all... this might be my last chance.

Lawrence’s hands were pressed against the stone table of the pulpit, and even though his fingers clung to the edge of the table, they couldn’t stop trembling slightly.

It was as if his brain had severely lost control over those small muscles in his fingers.

However, beneath the wide and intricate robe of his position as archbishop, no one had yet seen this.

The stone table on the pulpit was originally used by the clergy to place texts upon when preaching to the faithful.

But now, Lawrence stood against the stone table, bowing his head, motionless.

That standard face of a Byron Vis scholar, calm yet gloomy, just stared blankly at the empty stone table.

Yet no one felt anything was off. In Yan’an, there was no need to be overly startled or trace things back to the root.

The doors of the Great Cathedral were reopened.

Hunters reeking of the intense stench of beast blood, mostly exited without a word.

Like a swarm of crows dark as shadows, feasting on carrion.

Most of the hunters left.

They needed to prepare their hunting weapons and tools, gearing up for the imminent great hunt.

Preparing to revel in the wanton splattering of blood, also preparing to find ways... to make that blood splash more, and thicker.

Most hunters grinned silently.

Chuila was one of the few with a heavy expression.

Maria, walking last, looked back at the doors of the church as they were closing.

Under the shadow of her triangular hat, she saw those scholars and high-ranking clergy also leaving.

Only two First Hunters and the archbishop remained at their initial positions, silently watching others leave.

With a creak, the church doors closed again.

The footsteps of people leaving echoed on the floorboards of the Great Cathedral, but grew fainter and fainter.

Until there was no sound left, Ludwig finally spoke to break the silence.

"Lawrence." He said with concern, looking at the pulpit, "Are you okay?"

At this moment, although the archbishop still remained motionless overall, cold sweat had gathered at the tip of his downward-turned nose and dripped directly down with a ’splat’ against the stone table.

"You don’t seem well."

Ludwig said with worry.

"No, it’s nothing." But Lawrence immediately waved his hand, though somewhat out of breath, he persisted in saying, "I’m just, just a bit tired. The Grey Blood Disease has consumed most of the Church’s energy, and I still have to tend to our Holy Blood."

Is it just pure exhaustion?

Ludwig furrowed his brows but ultimately just nodded, saying nothing further.

If it was simply overexertion, then a few more sessions of [Healing Blood] should suffice, shouldn’t it...?

The First Hunter of the Church forcibly suppressed the vague feelings of ’wrongness and anxiety’ that surfaced in his mind.

[Healing Blood] is the universal remedy of life.

As long as one accepts the abundant power in the [Holy Blood], vitality, energy, life force... everything can be renewed as if it were brand new.

Like a rebirth, simply by injecting a bottle of [Holy Blood] into one’s body.

Ludwig didn’t believe there was anything that couldn’t be resolved under such miraculous power.

The terror of the Grey Blood Disease was only because the Healing Church couldn’t provide each Yan’an person with a share of [Holy Blood], otherwise, what was a plague?

Steadfast belief in the Healing Church’s doctrines prevented Ludwig from pressing further.

"Where’s Brado?" And now, with only three people left in the Great Cathedral, Lawrence no longer concealed his current poor state.

He supported himself with one hand on the stone table, while the other hand covered his forehead as he asked in a muffled voice.

It seemed he was in so much pain that he was about to throw up.

"I don’t know." Ludwig was stunned for a moment, and then he seemed to recall something, "I haven’t seen him for a long time. Isn’t this a task you assigned to him?"

In reality, Brado only accepted assignments from Lawrence.

Although Brado came to Yan’an seeking [Healing Blood], he was on very good terms with Lawrence.

During the days Lawrence established the Healing Church after breaking away from Byron Vis, he was one of the few friends Lawrence had.

So, although he had no official status or position, everyone knew that most of Brado’s assignments were directly what Lawrence needed him to do.

Brado was not a Church Hunter, yet he seemed more like Lawrence’s personal regular partner as a hunter.

Wielding a unique single-handed mace called the [Ritual Knife] as a weapon.

No one should know better than Lawrence where he would be or what he would be doing.

Lawrence himself also realized this, and he was momentarily stunned.

Yes, it should be the case that I know best where Brado is, so why now...

And just when Lawrence felt his headache growing and his thoughts becoming muddled, an ancient voice echoed in the church.

"Brado is hunting a monster that’s very adept at running away."

The brim of Gremman’s top hat cast a shadow, making it difficult for the other two to see his expression.

He spoke to himself.

"That will take a lot of time, he’s been very busy lately."

This feels very wrong.

Why would Gremman, who has been silent for a long time, know about Brado’s affairs? He shouldn’t even know Brado as a Hunter exists.

Why does Gremman know more about Brado’s whereabouts than Lawrence does?

Illogical and impossible things were happening.

Yet Lawrence and Ludwig seemed only momentarily stunned.

Then, without any reservation, they accepted Gremman’s words.

Lawrence seemed to feel slightly better; he shook his head and lowered his hand from his forehead.

"No matter what, this hunting target is extremely... dangerous."

Lawrence spoke meaningfully to the two Hunters he trusted.

"I understand," Ludwig said directly. "You’ve even brought out Mr. Gremman; I can’t imagine what kind of monster would require so many hunters. But regardless, I and the Church Hunters will persist until the end."

"But it’s not that simple, Ludwig."

Lawrence’s eyes remained calm and undisturbed, even though his neck veins had just bulged painfully.

"Those scholars from Byron Vis," Lawrence glanced discreetly toward the direction the scholars departed, "during the hunt, you don’t need to focus too much on protecting them."

"They were once the elite of Byron Vis, whether in academia or [arcane] and combat, they are very competent. If trouble arises, you can even command them as powerful hunters... Do you understand what I mean?"

In the echo-filled Great Cathedral, the echoes gradually dulled, eventually vanished, and silence ensued.

Ludwig slowly furrowed his brow.

"You said ’once were’?"

Clearly, the implication of this word is complex, but Ludwig understood.

Those scholars weren’t truly representatives from Byron Vis, as people thought. More likely, they were like Lawrence, departing from Master William’s path of academic research.

But they didn’t ally with the Healing Church either, which means...

A third party?

And Lawrence made it clear that he needed Ludwig to preserve their own strength during the hunt, and use the opposing force; the intent was already obvious.

"It’s certainly not honorable, and I don’t know what grudge you have amongst yourselves. But I will still do as you say."

The Church’s First Hunter looked up, intently staring at the archbishop on the podium.

"But I need you to promise me, and my Church Hunters, that everything we’re doing is undoubtedly to save the lives of Yan’an’s populace."

Lawrence didn’t hesitate for a moment, despite his weakness he decisively made his position clear.

"Of course, Ludwig. I promise you, and all the Church Hunters. We will save Yan’an."

The attitude was clear, unambiguous, and resolute.

Thus, although it was difficult, the Church’s First Hunter pressed his lips, nodded, and turned to leave.

His honor, his spirit, compared to the many residents of Yan’an, compared to the Healing Church’s vision of broad relief using Holy Blood... were things that could be sacrificed.

And just after even the Church’s First Hunter had left.

Huddled on the pew, arms crossed, the shadow of the brim of the top hat covering half of his face, Gremman finally spoke softly.

"You’re still so ruthless, Lawrence."

Gremman’s lips curled into a smile.

"Not a hint of hesitation when lying."

"He doesn’t even know who we’re really going to hunt in that little fishing village."

"It’s actually a... living divine offspring!"

Facing the taunt of an old friend, Lawrence shook his head with closed eyes: "For the divine offspring’s body, whatever we sacrifice is worth it."

"Think, Gremman. You were a witness to our development, an old fellow."

"Ever since Byron Vis found the ruins of the Sumeru people in the underground labyrinth, and discovered the remnants of a god there! Since then, science, arcane, medicine... we’ve experienced explosive growth!"

"And those remains were objects studied by the Sumeru people before their civilization perished. How many long years passed before they came into our possession?"

Lawrence’s grip suddenly seemed strong; his hand on the stone table creaked under the pressure.

And his tone seemed to become intense as a result.

"Those remnants of god were ’chewed’ several times, left to rot until stale, cold leftovers! But now... a living divine offspring!"

"If we obtain it, how far will human evolution be advanced by us?!"