Beast Slayer Online: Initialization
Copyright© 2026 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 132: The Witcher Entered Velen
The next morning, aside from turning the remaining alchemical materials in his possession into finished products, Lannor made no additional preparations.
Instead, he sat in the tavern with Berengar playing the continent’s latest obsession, Gwent.
His combat condition remained near perfect at almost all times. Everything that could be prepared had already been prepared. Obsessively second-guessing himself was never his style.
“Arya’s packing her things. Though I’ve no idea what there even is to pack.”
Berengar tossed down a trebuchet card as he spoke.
Lannor calmly answered with a Griffin card.
“Children always grow sentimental when it comes to parting. But I’m clear-headed enough to understand, we’ve only known each other for less than a month. Compared to staying here, going home is better for her.”
“Yeah. Home.”
Berengar let out a low sigh.
“No words put a man more at ease than that.”
The previous night, after hearing Berengar’s theory, Lannor had briefly wondered whether he could use this opportunity to return home as well.
But the thought faded almost immediately.
If he himself could still return, the Lady of the Lake would never have needed a little girl to set foot on Black Tern Island in the first place.
Since arriving in this world, he had undergone integration with the Biological Intelligence Core, witcher mutation, and implantation of a Space Marine Gene Seed.
Calling himself a normal human from his original world no longer even sounded believable to him.
Still, if Arya alone could escape this dangerous world, then that was already fortunate enough.
Her own world might not have been especially advanced either, but at least it had no magic.
No monsters.
As the daughter of one of the realm’s great nobles, she ought to live out her life safely and comfortably there.
Time passed quickly while playing Gwent. No wonder the game had spread across the continent like wildfire.
Now dusk waited at the edge of the sky, preparing to swallow the last of the daylight.
The appointed hour had arrived.
“You really don’t need help?”
Berengar set down his cards and looked up.
Lannor glanced at the miserable hand the old witcher had thrown away, then expressionlessly swept the small pile of Orens from the table into his palm.
Berengar’s mouth twitched violently.
He knew perfectly well Lannor did not care in the slightest about a handful of coins. The bastard simply wanted to declare victory.
... What an insufferable Bear Cub.
“When you’re fighting something capable of mental corruption, low-quality backup is worse than none at all.”
Berengar’s face twitched even harder at the disdain.
“Leaving already?”
After gathering up the shining Orens, Arya emerged from the tavern room carrying a small bundle over her shoulder.
The delicate little rapier hung at her waist.
Lannor looked her over and saw she had mostly adjusted her emotions already.
Children with lively tempers were often surprisingly resilient. That was one of Arya’s strengths.
Before the last traces of daylight vanished entirely, the two rented a small fishing boat from the village pier and sailed toward nearby Black Tern Island.
Perhaps the Lady of the Lake’s arrangements had already begun taking effect.
Ordinarily, Vizima Lake at this hour merely appeared dim.
But tonight, even the mist spreading across the water seemed to conceal something deeply malicious beneath its haze.
The cold sank straight into the bones.
“Close your eyes, Arya. It’ll feel better that way.”
Arya’s trembling hand clutched desperately at the hem of Lannor’s gambeson beneath his plate armor.
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