The Witcher: Astartes Of The Bear School

Chapter 54: Cheap Courage

The only thing about the cannibals that Lan somewhat appreciated was their sheer ferocity. It seemed they knew that their crimes would be considered heinous in any civilized world. So, when forced into a direct confrontation, the cannibals always came with a maniacal level of murderous intent.

Their expressions were on par with the armed fanatics of the Eternal Fire. They feared no death because it was not the worst outcome they had predicted for themselves.

Even with crude weapons, they did not hesitate to charge forward. If the weapons failed, they still had their hands and teeth. Since they had started eating people, they no longer cared about killing like beasts or monsters.

Relying on this unconventional morale, even though the cannibals' equipment was inferior to the lowest-ranking soldiers under Vserad, if they were to attack each other, those soldiers, who were at most part-time robbers, would probably have their bones gnawed clean, right?

"Die!" Shouting, the cannibals charged with a slightly adjusted formation. The leader held a wooden club wrapped with rope and nails.

His fierce stance made it seem like he was willing to break his finger bones to pry open the heavy armor and bite Lan to death. His blood vessels were swollen, and his eyes were covered with a layer of excited bloodshot. As he waved his weapon and charged, his mouth opened wide enough to make one uncomfortable, emitting a violent battle cry.

But if "ferocity" was enough, what was the point of "skill"?

The young man's cat-like eyes reflected the fierce attackers without a ripple. Lan's feet, even while moving, were in a T-stance, allowing for flexible movement and stable support at any time. This was a basic stance in swordsmanship.

The wooden club with meat strips still hanging from the nails swung down. Lan shifted his front foot's center of gravity without moving, and his back foot just tapped the ground, turning his entire body ninety degrees. The wide front of his body instantly became the narrow side. With just a slight lift of his head, the club missed his face.

"Missed!" The leader's expression changed from "fierce" to "terrified." In excellent dynamic vision, this change in expression was so ridiculous it was laughable.

"You didn't brush your teeth, fucker."

A cold silver light flashed from bottom to top. The tip of the steel sword was already waiting on the path of the opponent's swinging arm. If the opponent had the skill to stop the force even after missing, he wouldn't be here.

The arm seemed to collide with the blade. This caused Lan, even with a normal sword speed, to slash upwards, resulting in a crisp "snap" sound. The opponent's entire arm flew off. The crisp sound was the steel cutting through the bone. Thick blood sprayed out from the severed end like a spray gun.

Lan sidestepped to avoid this filthy creature falling on him.

The second cannibal had also charged to the front. As Lan had judged—these people couldn't even coordinate their attacks after charging. Eating people had ruined their brains.

The second cannibal held a Velen sword in his hand, aiming to stab Lan's torso. His mouth was drooling, like a vicious dog pouncing on its prey.

Lan raised an eyebrow slightly. This guy seemed to have some brains. To ensure the breakthrough of the heavy armor, he pressed the counterweight ball at the end of the sword hilt against his stomach. Preventing the sword from slipping out of his hand due to the recoil when stabbing the heavy armor.

"But you shortened the attack distance, still a fool!"

A long sword held in front of him, shortening the attack distance by a whole arm's length. The Bear School steel sword didn't even adopt a defensive stance. Just a slight adjustment of the hilt grip, and then a downward slash.

For some reason, since holding the two swords of the Bear School, Lan particularly favored the downward slash. The center of gravity flowed within the body, and the downward slash of the Bear School swordsmanship would open the body to an exaggerated degree. As if every vertebra in the spine was used as a power unit.

Then, at the fastest point of the sword tip, even the air would be torn by the steel. As if it wasn't a sword but a steel whip.

The sound made people suddenly feel ominous.

Like the first victim, the blade slashed into the root of the opponent's neck and shoulder, creating a huge gap. But because he didn't even try to block, this cannibal was pressed down by the blade and "bam" knelt on the ground. Amid the "scrape" sound of bone rubbing against steel, Lan again drew the sword from the human flesh.

The cannibal who had his arm chopped off was now curled up on the ground, holding the stump and screaming. His veins bulged, and his voice was hoarse as if he was about to tear his vocal cords. The cannibal whose neck was slashed was writhing and rolling on the ground like a chopped earthworm. The once flat stone ground became messy and slippery under the instinctive death struggle of the human flesh.

The cannibals' fearless, even maniacal, shouts stopped. Not only the shouts stopped, but the steps that had already been taken also hesitated and retreated. In Lan's cat-like eyes, which had remained unruffled from the beginning, this group of "monsters" who could eat human flesh and skin alive... shrank back.

The courage of criminals stemmed from "madness," not "firmness." That cheap courage was like dew on leaves in the morning: as soon as the sun shone, it vanished. The bloodshot eyes faded, and fear spread among the crowd.

They were "monsters" who ate people, but this time the witcher who hunted monsters had come to their door.

"No... this isn't right... this isn't right!" This was self-deceptive muttering.

The enemy's number was "one," and even in heavy armor, it was impossible to kill three people so cleanly. No, those three didn't even touch his outer garment! Whether he had heavy armor or not made no difference to him!

Most people in this era hadn't seen much of the world, and the cannibals were no different. Like frogs in a well, they thought the world's limit was the small patch they saw. The first deserter with dilated pupils appeared. He rushed into the dense forest, not daring to look back even as sharp tree branches lashed his body.

Fear was contagious. The remaining three swallowed nervously, exchanged glances, and immediately dropped their weapons, panicking and running in different directions.

As they fled, Lan picked up a piece of fur jacket from the ground and wiped his sword.

*****

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