Beast Slayer Online: Initialization
Copyright© 2026 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 12: The Thing Inside The Well
Lannor brushed the mud from his clothes and rose to his feet.
His hand closed around the shaft of the halberd still buried in Bordon’s corpse.
“Shhk.”
With a simple pull, the weapon slid free.
The massive body sagged sideways like butchered meat collapsing off a hook. Lannor did not spare it another glance. Whatever stood between them had been settled.
The three soldiers, who had already wrapped up their captain’s corpse and waited nearby, slowly approached.
“You finished talking?” the Halberdier asked cautiously.
Lannor said nothing. He merely nodded, then gripped the end of the halberd and offered it back level across both hands.
The Halberdier ground his teeth for a moment before finally accepting the weapon.
“You can hold something this heavy that steady ... and your teacher too. Never seen a man move that fast in armor that heavy.” He glanced toward Bordon’s corpse. “Are all witchers like that?”
Without the armor of the School of the Bear, or even with a slightly inferior suit, Bordon would have died under the first volley of arrows. Heavy armor was a warrior’s second safeguard. The first was the warrior himself.
“I’m different.” Lannor released the weapon and shrugged. “My school specializes in strength.”
The Halberdier began scraping blood and grease from the blade. A weapon that had cut flesh demanded maintenance. Leave it dirty overnight and rust would already be creeping in by dawn.
Meanwhile the Archers looked toward Lannor again.
“So now we just haul both bodies back?”
“I need to strip his armor first.” Lannor jerked a thumb toward Bordon’s corpse behind him. “He left the set to me.”
The Crossbowman nodded immediately. “You should keep it. Never seen craftsmanship that fine. Must be worth a fortune.”
There was naked admiration in his voice. Afterward he glanced awkwardly down at his own standard-issue armor.
As standing troops under the Lord of Velen, the finest armor he had ever seen belonged to the lord himself. But everyone in Velen knew Lord Vserad lacked the courage to step onto a battlefield.
His ancestral armor might still look impressive, but whether it could still stop a blade ... that hardly needed saying.
Lannor nodded in agreement.
“The workmanship’s excellent. Which means repairing the hole in the abdomen will cost a small fortune too.”
With the help of the three professional soldiers, Bordon’s School of the Bear armor was quickly removed.
The School of the Bear was the only witcher school that favored heavy armor. A full set like this weighed nearly thirty kilograms. An ordinary man wearing it would struggle just to stand again after falling over. Putting it on and taking it off practically required attendants.
The soldiers dragged both corpses out of the valley. Four horses waited there, tethered where they had been left earlier. Bordon and Lannor’s mounts stood among them.
Before departing, the three soldiers bowed from horseback toward Lannor.
“Our thanks again, Witcher Master. For your help in the fight, and for giving up the bounty.”
“We’re usually stationed at Crow’s Perch, where Lord Vserad’s castle stands. If you ever need anything, come find us. No matter what others think, you’ll be treated well there.”
“Crow’s Perch. I’ll remember it.” Lannor smiled faintly and did not correct their title for him.
A Witcher Master referred to those capable of hunting large monsters alone. Adult Griffins. Cockatrices. Basilisks. Wyverns. The species hardly mattered. Any one of them could massacre a squad of ten soldiers unaided.
Bordon had accomplished such feats. He deserved the title.
Yet even a man capable of slaying great monsters alone still died when trapped in human warfare.
Lannor knew perfectly well he was nowhere near that level. But these soldiers would likely never leave Velen in their entire lives. There was little point correcting them.
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