Beast Slayer Online: Initialization
Copyright© 2026 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 57
Lannor flicked the blood from the School of the Bear steel sword, wiped it clean with a scrap of cloth, then slid it back into the scabbard across his back.
Bodies lay strewn over the ground, just like in the first small camp he had tracked by scent.
“This is the fourth ... should be enough.”
The young witcher murmured to himself.
Mentos confirmed his estimate.
Probability Update
Revised Likelihood: 73%
Confidence Level: High
Assessment: Threshold Exceeded
“In the end, they built these outposts on a two-day rotation. To avoid drawing eyes, they cannot use smoke signals for warning. That means rapid communication was never possible for them. These places were only meant for interception and watch duty.”
“Clearing four outposts should be enough to keep this route open.”
After saying that, Mentos added, rigorously as ever, “Of course, that probability only applies if you actually succeed in rescuing the target. If you are wounded and your operational efficiency drops, the probability will collapse sharply.”
“I know. But you know that sort of warning won’t scare me.”
The dense woods rustled as the branches swayed. Beneath that whispering canopy came the sound of the witcher’s footsteps, and his back slowly vanished once more into the shade.
He went downhill all the way.
From the information tortured out of the men at the four outposts, Lannor now had a rough picture of their main camp, the hidden harbor.
Its standing force ranged between forty and fifty men. Some belonged to the man-eater band, but others were strangers even to them.
According to the captives, “They’re buyers brought in by the Head Devourer. Big business. Makes sense they’d send men along.”
At that, Lannor gave a cold laugh.
Those man-eaters must have eaten their brains rotten if they believed that.
Most of the man-eaters, supposedly the main force in this trade, had been pushed out to the perimeter outposts. Only a small number were allowed back to the harbor when shifts changed.
And that was called the buyers “sending men along”?
No. That was using the man-eaters as hired hands.
But none of that mattered most to the witcher.
Child trafficking. Cannibalism.
Either was enough to earn death.
Lannor’s pace had been calculated. By the time the sky began to darken, he reached the main camp described in the enemy testimony.
Its outer defenses were not as complete as he had expected. That allowed Lannor to crouch in the brush and observe parts of the camp.
It made sense. They had already set up many outposts outside.
Manpower was a precious resource. A hundred-man criminal gang existing in Velen at all was absurd enough.
Every organization had limited resources. Neglecting one thing to strengthen another was normal.
“This is far better than expected. Mentos, looks like we won’t need to argue.”
His amber cat eyes shifted sharply.
The camp was not large, roughly three hundred square meters. On the seaward side stood a small harbor, with several shallow-draft boats moored there.
Their shipping method was probably simple. Load the goods onto small boats at the harbor, row out to deeper water, then transfer them to a larger vessel.
Most of the armed men lived in simple tents. Their sleeping area curved in a crescent around a dark, wooden cage-like prison.
At the center of the crescent stood the largest tent. That would be the leader’s place.
They did not care about lighting the holding area, because the only side not enclosed by the crescent faced the sea.
Besides, before civilization developed electric lamps, light at night had always been a luxury.
Candles, lamp oil, firewood, small things, all of them bright, naked coin.
Both Mentos and Lannor had forgotten that in their tension.
So in Lannor’s modern eyes, not only was the prison area pitch-black, even the armed quarters could only be called dim.
A few fixed campfires, and a dozen or so patrolling men each carrying a torch. That was the entirety of their lighting.
Darkness was a witcher’s advantage.
The moment Mentos saw the camp, it relaxed sharply.
Too dark. Perfectly dark.
At least the host would not have to gamble his life outright.
Rescue Assessment Module
Success Probability: +30%
Current Outlook: Improved
Stability Evaluation: Insufficient
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