Bear School Astartes

"No." The druid, dressed in a seal-skin cloak, said firmly.

"Calanthe has changed her mind. Ciri will no longer continue her engagement to Prince Kristin. She has her own plans. Moreover, because King Aivelle sent soldiers to ambush merchant caravans and framed the dryads, I no longer have any trust in his character, and Calanthe values my judgment greatly."

"We won't even stop at Nashtrog. I'll take the little one straight back to Sintra. Come with us, Geralt."

As the evening slowly darkened, the group didn't manage to reach the next village, so they could only light a campfire by the roadside.

Three demon hunters and a burly druid sat around the fire, speaking in low voices.

Ciri, meanwhile, wrapped in a thick fur, slept deeply by the fire.

Moscow and Geralt were discussing matters regarding Sintra, as well as Ciri.

And Lann, while chatting with Vesemir about the various techniques of demon hunters, kept half an ear on the conversation nearby.

Upon learning that Ciri was Geralt's unexpected child, Vesemir naturally began treating the little girl as a junior.

And indeed, Ciri was quite likable.

"So as I was saying, demon hunters should have some long-distance means of dealing with opponents. Magic seals are at most mid-range. When facing those pulling bows and arrows at a distance, Geralt felt no pressure, but I took down two of their leaders, and they simply fled."

The young man was trying to sell his 'advantage of long reach' theory to the old demon hunter.

Vesemir, not being a stubborn old head stuck in his ways, nodded frequently to show his agreement as he listened.

"Ah." The old demon hunter suddenly sighed with emotion.

"Times have changed so quickly. Back in my day, although life was tough, people were people, and monsters were monsters. Demon hunters didn't need to anticipate 'what to do if faced with crossbowmen.' A hundred years have passed, and now it's completely different..."

Vesemir's body was far from 'old,' yet his spirit had already taken on the heavy filter of time like an ordinary elderly person.

Either way, Lann didn't believe that back in those more challenging times, there were fewer mountain bandits and road bullies.

At most, those people in those days had no way to obtain military equipment, and even if they did, they wouldn't know how to use it or maintain it.

That's why when the old demon hunters dealt with them, they didn't leave a significant impression.

"This time I went to Brugge to collect a bounty and bought a hand crossbow along the way. You're right, Lann. People have to adapt to the times."

After saying this, Vesemir glanced at the young man with a peculiar expression and then muttered a couple of sentences.

"A hand crossbow it is. Your technique of releasing seals with that frequency and precision is not something many people can manage... Did your Bear School integrate the Griffin School's formulas?"

After Lann had explained the firing device on his left arm to him, Vesemir continued to stroke his chin with a complex expression.

The frequency of seal releases was one thing, and during the time when demon hunters hadn't branched into schools and operated as the Demon Hunter Order, he had good relationships with many from the future Griffin School.

Those demon hunters added mutation stimulants to enhance spellcasting abilities in the Trial of Grasses formulas.

Like the coagulant from deer heads, or more commonly occurring blue mutation stimulants.

After drinking magic potions that increased vitality recovery, those people could also cast seals continuously for a period of time.

But gathering the impact of Alder into the base of a metal tube... few mages had tried such an approach!

Under limited mental focus, young casters mostly pursued larger and stronger magic, with few delving into control.

While the two demon hunters discussed the battle system of 'long, medium, and close' range coordination, a disagreement seemed to flare up among the druid's conversation.

"This is the third time! Geralt! You two have intersected your destinies three times now! Are you going to tell me it's a coincidence? In this vast world, among these many beings, two individuals from vastly different backgrounds and living areas have met three times due to so-called 'coincidence'?"

"How many orphans in this world have never seen their parents twice in a lifetime! And now you're telling me that your meetings with Ciri are all coincidental?"

The robust druid pressed his questions with suppressed, scornful intensity, creating a sense of pressure.

Lann thought that if Ciri weren't sleeping nearby, Moscow might have started roaring by now.

"So what if it isn't coincidence?" Geralt seemed unfazed by the pressure, expressionless, while casually stoking the fire.

"I had Ciri's parents swear a promise, granting me compensation according to the law of surprise. Yes, the compensation has manifested, sleeping beside us right now, but as the one receiving the reward, I have the right to refuse it, don't I? To be frank, at this moment, I just want to be a helpful demon hunter, and I don't want the agreed-upon reward! Just like Knight Aik of Denesler, driving away evil for free. Is that okay?"

"Indeed, it is okay," the druid answered, "but I must emphasize that this action comes with risks. As the old saying goes, 'the sword of destiny...'"

"Has two blades," Geralt finished for him. "Dammit, I've been hearing that phrase repeatedly these past few days."

"If you hear it so often, you should take it to heart! Old sayings carry truth!" Moscow shot back.

"I don't want little Ciri living a life of constant struggle and hardship, with small hands covered in sword calluses. I don't want Calanthe to berate and even threaten to kill me. But I don't want to see Calanthe and Ciri fall into danger more!"

"I'm different from you, Geralt. I believe in destiny, and after you've demanded rewards from fate, you've rejected them thrice as if it's a joke! Do you think the sword of destiny is merely a gold-plated stick?! When it falls, trouble will follow! Death will come!"

"How many curses have you broken? You know very well that confronting such power directly only worsens things. The power of destiny is even greater than a curse, and you, the expert, are acting like a reckless fool?"

Moscow and Geralt were long-time acquaintances, and his jabs at Geralt always carried a kind of frustrated 'see the error of your ways' sentiment.

"I get it, you don't want Ciri living the life of a demon hunter, having known that life yourself since childhood, filled with discrimination and danger, and facing death. You think entrusting a princess to a demon hunter is an idea even ghouls wouldn't conceive, but..."

Moscow sincerely looked at Geralt's profile.

"For the sake of saving her, for the sake of saving her grandmother, take her away, Geralt!"