Bear School Astartes

"You never mentioned there's such a figure at the Immortal Peak Temple, Black Conical Hat."

Lann's eyebrows slightly furrowed as he stared intently at the massive silhouette approaching at a steady pace.

The former leader of the Chaos Wave Group, Black Iron Hat, raised, revealing his gaping mouth.

"No, no... I've never seen him before!"

This was a person standing around 2.2 to 2.3 meters tall. Such a stature in this supernaturally influenced East Japan wasn't enough to cause exclamations. But his attire...

A full-metal armor, not the Japanese-style gusoku, but resembling a seventeenth-century European knight's attire.

Full helmet, large linked plate armor, knee guards, greaves, iron boots, iron gloves... and a European greatsword with a width of one and a half palm spans and nearly 1.8 meters long!

Lann almost thought it was a knight who followed him through the celestial convergence rift.

Completely different from gusoku, which in East Japan was compromised on defense due to a lack of metal in their environment.

"You, leave here. Leave your swords."

But before Lann could ask if he knew who Veltrest was, this fully armed knight barked a few broken Japanese words from across.

"For the promise of the Chiben Blades, may the blessing of Waka fall upon Robert."

It sounded like a wish or a prayer.

But a Western knight, reciting a Western prayer to 'Waka,' a term in the Eastern context... what an odd feeling.

Lann's left hand had already reached the hilt of his sword at his waist.

This man didn't come from his side but was, in the East Japan parlance—a bona fide Southern Barbarian!

I truly encountered a Southern Barbarian!

A sense of dissociation, as if Lann, a counterfeit, had met the real one, filled his heart.

"Hmm... a type I can't handle at all. I'll leave it to you, foreign warrior, I'll head forward to clear the ninjas for you."

Black Conical Hat Li was initially astonished at how a menacing Southern Barbarian had appeared in the temple.

But then thought, with the monks' current mental state, it wasn't impossible for them to find a 'guard dog' to seal the temple.

As for Lann's combat strength... anyway, Black Conical Hat Li didn't think the opponent could cause him any trouble.

Lann nodded slightly, his gaze steady. With Lann's acknowledgment, Black Conical Hat Li used the Light Body Skill, taking a few light leaps onto the seven or eight meters high branches nearby, wandering into the temple.

"I will not leave, nor will I surrender my sword. I am here to kill. But you..."

Lann drew the clear blade from his waist, holding it down by his side with a puzzled face.

"What's your situation?"

Crossing thousands of miles from Europe to guard a temple? Is being a mercenary that profitable?

The experience with Mentos and Lady Butterfly, dealing with the Owl in the Demon Hunter's world, had already taught him that when speaking with someone whose stance is unclear, it's best to knock them down before talking to them.

So, even though Lann didn't think the pile of mess in the Immortal Peak Temple had anything to do with this European knight, he still drew his sword, readying for a confrontation.

As it turned out, Lann was very wise.

At the exact moment he finished speaking, the knight across from him let out an angry battle roar filled with wrath.

Then, gripping that oversized greatsword, he swung it directly at Lann!

"Boom!"

Sparks flew from the iron, and the burst of air from the clashing force formed a ring.

The sound was completely different from the crisp clanking of a samurai sword, approaching the level of iron hammers smashing!

Lann's eyes opened slightly wider, though his posture wasn't affected; a tremendous force pushed him back half a meter!

His current weight, armor included, was close to 250 kilograms, and beneath his feet was not slippery mud but a dry wooden plank with good friction!

Yet he was still pushed back half a meter!

"What a ferocious strength... There's no magical item on him, meaning it's all his strength?"

"Is this the true Southern Barbarian swordsmanship of this world?"

The force of the opponent basically matched his own, even slightly exceeding it.

But unlike the precise biological surgery coordinated by genetic seeds, the opponent seemed to have increased his size to obtain this strength. Meaning, in terms of body density and power, he fell short.

Yet it was still impressive. In Alia's world, only the exceptionally gifted Clegane brothers could contend with Lann, who hadn't yet implanted the Second Heart.

Even armored, the person in front wasn't bloated like Gregor Clegane, who was built like a 2.45-meter muscle hulk.

Could the Southern Barbarian swordsmanship of this world be a long-term, minimally invasive biological training and modification technique?

Mentos came online with real-time analysis, and in the upper right corner of Lann's retina, a simplistic three-dimensional model of the opponent began to display.

In some bone areas, Mentos specifically marked them in red.

"Sir, your speculation is correct. His body has some bones with abnormal angles, and there are additional bone grooves."

The modifications to his body seemed minimal, but the effect was extraordinary.

In Lann's native world, fossils of human bones from a species naturally eliminated over ten thousand years ago had been discovered.

The difference in their leg bone structure from modern humans was simply a bone groove at the back of the calf bone.

But this slight change, which laymen might not even notice, enabled their kind to reach the short-distance sprint level of Olympic races once they matured.

The exceptional individuals within this species could crush existing world records.

All because of a single bone groove on the calf bone.

The opponent's offensive was swift, lacking the strict and cautious techniques of Eastern swordsmanship, attacking like a wild beast, wielding the enormous sword like a mallet smashing a mole!

If the wooden bridge beneath his feet weren't made of solid, sturdy material with resilience, Lann would have had to find a way to relocate the battle.

But even so, the greatsword left ghastly sword marks on the bridge, scattering splinters everywhere.

The Demon Hunter's katana seemed like a toothpick compared to the greatsword. Each collision caused the katana to recoil uncontrollably. This was a disadvantage of weapon design and weight.

The greatsword could unleash power more smoothly, its force more overwhelming as it descended.

But with every slight recoil of the katana, the advantageously positioned greatsword was forced into a high lift.

Power matched, but technique crushed!

Lann watched the opponent coolly through the gaps of sword light under the onslaught resembling a hammer.

"The blade in your hand can't harm my armor at all! Give up! Lay down your sword!"

The opponent seemed not to want to harm anyone, emphasizing relinquishing the sword and being dissuaded over and over.

What surprised him was Lann's confidence after testing his armor with the katana, despite failing to penetrate it.

Quite the contrary... he tilted his head slightly.

As if understanding the depth of the situation during combat, feeling bored and assured of victory.