Bear School Astartes

Chapter 103: 103. Half-Fishman Priest

After sending off Selena, who was very curious about life in the big city, Lann once again touched the conical crystal in his back pocket.

”Rita, are you still there?”

”I’m always waiting for you.”

Despite the fact that the female warlock across from him had no intention of flirting, her natural allure was a permanent feature of her personality.

Her words could make any man melt down to his bones.

Luckily, Lann’s aesthetic standards had risen so high that he wasn’t easily swayed by mere words.

”Tell me about Necromancy. I’ve heard it’s a forbidden magic?”

”Necromancy?! Why are you asking about that?”

Margaret exclaimed, as if even mentioning the name of this magic felt ominous and taboo.

”It’s the only clue, an insider I’ve caught, he... well, should be said to have died accidentally. We can’t give up on this clue. Triss and Keira have done all they can, but the opponent’s ability to control information is as strong as Veltrest himself... I say, the King should not be involved in the slave trade, right?”

”Absolutely impossible,” Margaret said firmly.

”The reason that slavery can be banned in the Northern Countries is because this system aligns with the interests of the Northern Countries. The state’s interests are the King’s interests. Although Veltrest is not known for restraint, he is definitely clever. Why would he commit such a taboo?”

”Speaking of Necromancy... Lann, even if that clue breaks off, I would never support you using this magic!”

The Demon Hunter furrowed his brow slightly.

”Rita, those children are about to be transported south and trained to be pleasure slaves!”

”That would still be better than causing magic power imbalance across the land, Demon Spirits running rampant, or depletion of the earth’s energy! Necromancy reverses the flow of souls! Even temporarily, it would surely invite backlash!”

Upon hearing this, Lann ground his molars in frustration.

He initially thought Necromancy was forbidden only because it demanded high mana from the caster and resulted in severe consequences if failed.

He believed it wouldn’t matter as long as he found a warlock with high mana to assist him.

But unexpectedly, this magic itself, when cast, would harm the world’s environment!

If Lann were someone who used any means to achieve his goals, it would be different.

But the reason Gant Odim threw the corpse here was because he knew Lann was not that type of person.

The desire to rescue slaves and take down the mastermind.

These ideas stem entirely from Lann’s own moral sense.

For this, he dared to fight against the vast power group of the opponent even if alone.

But it was also because of this that he could not pursue Necromancy without considering the consequences.

Morality is a self-imposed constraint, and since this restriction comes from the will of life itself, Lann would not overstep it.

Because encountering difficulties, feeling tired, feeling it’s hard, he crosses the line he set for himself?

Then what kind of man would he be?!

”Understood, I won’t entertain the idea of Necromancy anymore. Let’s stop here for now; I have to go meet someone.”

”Take care, Lann. I’m sorry I can’t help much in this matter.”

”Don’t say that, Rita. Fifteen hundred Oren, two royal advisors; ordinary people can’t earn that much money in several lifetimes, nor can they meet a warlock of high rank.”

Margaret fell silent for a moment and then hesitantly spoke.

”If, I mean if, Lann. If you still have no leads, maybe you could return to Ritu...”

”No ifs.”

The Demon Hunter firmly refused.

”I will not fail. At least not this time, I will not fail.”

Before the female warlock could react, Lann’s hand withdrew from the Alchemy Pouch.

He placed Alia and the limp corpse nearby, then followed Selena’s guidance to the Half-Fishman’s altar.

As he hung up Margaret’s ”call,” the Hunter saw that at the base of the altar near the lake, a Half-Fishman seemed to have been waiting for him.

It was precisely because of this attitude that made Lann certain that the transmission gate he used had something to do with the Half-Fishman.

But this was no big deal.

Compared to the chilling Glass Boy, even an unintelligent Water Ghost could be termed as ”amiable.”

The Half-Fishman held a staff-like object, appearing to be a priest. With scales for skin, hunched over to man’s chest height, with skinny arms and legs.

Wearing a brass and net-assembled breathing mask on its head, it looked a bit steampunk.

A few catfish-like long whiskers leaked from the sides of the breathing mask.

This was Lann’s first exchange with a wise creature with such a different form from humans.

Upon ascending the altar, the Demon Hunter wasted no time, heading straight for the Half-Fishman priest.

”Can you speak human language?”

”I can speak your language. Very well.”

The Half-Fishman priest was not surprised and naturally began the conversation.

”Was it you who brought me here? You look like a caster.”

From the breathing mask of the Half-Fishman priest came a phlegm-like, ”gurgling” laugh.

”Caster, not I. It was the Lady who summoned you.”

The Half-Fishman said, raising the staff in his hand toward the focus of the altar.

It was a beautiful female statue with pointed ears, embracing amidst the waves.

The Lady of the Lake.

”The Great Lady...” Lann crossed his arms, smiling at the corners of his mouth.

”What does a humble Demon Hunter do for her favor?”

”We need a good Demon Hunter to carry out tasks. The waters have seen very! very! unclean things now.”

”How does this Lady know that I am a sufficiently ’good Demon Hunter’?”

”The Lady listens.” At this point, the Half-Fishman’s casual attitude in front of Lann suddenly changed.

He piously grasped the staff, turned towards the statue.

Speaking in a singsong tone as if narrating a story.

”The rising bubbles in the lake, the silent breath of the trees, the rippling swim of the fishes... the Lady listens to all and showers her kindness. You will feel this love, Demon Hunter.”

Lann neither accepted nor rejected the Half-Fishman’s affirmation.

However, he wouldn’t question others’ faith at the beginning, so he followed the Half-Fishman, bowing respectfully to the statue.

The Half-Fishman nodded contentedly.

”I am willing to help friendly creatures, whether human or Half-Fishman.”

After straightening himself, Lann first expressed his inclination.

The Half-Fishmen in this area live in harmony with humans, and the base of the Half-Fishman’s altar even had human children playing.

This, in a world where racial discrimination is increasingly sharp, gave Lann a rare sense of affection.

Next, it’s time to talk about practical matters.

”However, I believe mutual help and support should be symbiotic relationships, whether above or below water. Frankly speaking, I am adept at slaying monsters. But I, too, have encountered troubles; I’m sure the Lady is aware of my plight.”

Lann gestured with his thumb behind him, where Ubank’s corpse lay.