Beast Slayer Online: Initialization
Copyright© 2026 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 32: Beneath The Old Watchtower
The next morning, Pope was led out by the villagers, her coat sleek and glossy.
Lannor stroked the mare’s nose. He knew she had been given extra feed the night before.
The two longswords on his back had been restored to a clean shine. Ivan had worked through the night, and Bernie, keeping his promise, had contributed the best wood and fish leather he owned to make a new scabbard.
By Lannor’s judgment, the scabbard alone was worth five Orens.
In the panic that gripped Auridon the previous night, it was only because old Aaron had revealed that Lannor would help investigate the Dunham case that the villagers had been calmed at all.
In this age, shedding blood for faith was the most natural thing in the world.
And no one could say what trouble people might cause once too much fear and fervor got into their heads.
Hooves struck the ground, throwing up mud and torn grass. Lannor leaned low over Pope’s back to cut the wind.
Though the mare carried more than a hundred kilograms of weight, she still ran with a kind of eager joy.
In less than two hours, Midcopse came into view.
Lannor slowed Pope to a trot and entered the village.
His cat eyes lowered without seeming to, sweeping quietly over the place. The villagers here were the same as those in Auridon.
None of them had any heart left for work, even when that work decided whether they would eat.
“Ah! You finally made it.”
It was the same tavern. York the halberdier came out to meet him at the door.
The place appeared to have been requisitioned by the dozen soldiers as temporary lodging.
“Commander Strenger still hasn’t sobered up. The others are checking their gear, and I’ve been sent to receive you, master.”
York took Pope’s reins from Lannor and tied the mare beside the tavern.
Lannor’s nostrils moved faintly. The smell of liquor here was strong enough to sting.
“Thanks. Call me Lannor, York. Let’s not waste time. Can you take me to see the corpse first?”
“Hah, that’s what I’m here for. Come on.”
York smiled and adjusted his helmet, then walked ahead with his halberd over his shoulder.
“We found an abandoned house at the edge of the village. The body’s there. Weather’s been bad these few days, as you know. Truth be told, I’ve seen how well witchers fight. You and your teacher, that old bastard, are the finest swordsmen I’ve ever seen. But I don’t think even you can find much from a corpse that’s nearly rotting.”
Lannor kept silent.
There was not much he could say. His Trace Detection proficiency was only nineteen percent.
He considered his mutation perfect enough, and among witchers his senses should be decent, but his reserves of tracking knowledge did not even reach twenty percent of an ordinary hunter’s.
Speak too soon, and he would only embarrass himself.
But as York and Lannor drew closer to the edge of the village, Lannor’s nostrils twitched. He sighed softly.
His right hand crossed over his shoulder and found the hilt of the silver sword on his back.
“York.”
“What?”
The halberdier was still leading the way carelessly.
“I’m guessing you didn’t leave enough light around the body. Or any men watching it.”
“Hah, uncanny. How’d you know...”
York turned around and saw Lannor had already drawn the silver sword.
His face tightened, and so did the hand gripping his halberd.
“Monster?”
Quick reaction, brother.
Lannor glanced at York with mild surprise, then said, “A corpse starting to stink, not buried, not burned, not watched. Ghouls love that sort of thing.”
Before York could react further, Lannor moved. In an instant, his body snapped into a charging posture, the shift from stillness to motion sudden as a ghost.
“ ... Fuck!”
The halberdier cursed and hurried after him.
The Dunham case was serious. They already had too few clues. If even the victim’s body was destroyed, every soldier in this unit would suffer for it.
The distance was short, and with the scent guiding him, Lannor could not lose the way.
After turning only twice between the village houses, a badly worn wooden hut appeared ahead.
Without slowing his steps, the young man issued an order inside his skull.
“Mentos, filter out the surrounding noise.”
“Understood. Noise filtration complete.”
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