Beast Slayer Online: Initialization
Copyright© 2026 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 69
The journey from the hills near Condal to Gors Velen was short and, mercifully, safe.
Truth be told, if Velen still harbored some dreadful threat besides a single armed criminal gang that had swelled past a hundred men, then Vserad ought to consider stepping down as lord.
Along the way, the speed of two good horses alone was enough to leave ninety-nine percent of trouble choking in the dust.
At last, shortly before Margarita’s condition could worsen any further, even with her entire upper body draped against Lannor and no sign of recovery on her face, they reached Gors Velen at midday on the second day.
This time, Lannor walked straight to the end of Kardo Street, stopping before Aretuza Academy’s magical barrier.
Little Arya seemed to be seeing magic for the first time. The barrier left her standing slack-jawed in wonder.
Yet there was no fear in her eyes. Curiosity burned too brightly for that. Excitement danced across her face as she stared at the shimmering wall.
“By the Old Gods ... this is real magic!”
“Unauthorized visitors, halt.”
A woman’s voice emerged from the barrier.
Apparently the impressive-looking magical defense still required someone to stand watch. No automatic identification here.
To Lannor, that felt like the sort of lopsided development that came from following an entirely different technological path.
He dismounted. The fever-like pain burning through his body had not weakened in the slightest during the past day.
The toxicity of witcher elixirs was no joke.
The young witcher helped Margarita down. She could no longer stand on her own, so he lifted her into his arms.
“Open the gate, Saffra.”
Margarita’s voice was weak enough to seem barely audible. Still, Lannor trusted that she only spoke so softly because she knew the woman on the other side could hear.
“You know my name? Doesn’t matter. No unauthorized entry. Those are Mistress Tissaia’s orders.”
The reply came with casual indifference, like someone killing time between coats of nail polish.
Against his chest, Lannor felt Margarita draw a deep breath.
The sensation was impossible to miss.
“Saffra, I’ll cancel every holiday you have for the entire academic year.”
The sorceress hissed the threat through gritted teeth.
Then she wiped both hands across her face.
Immediately, Lannor felt something change.
It was as though a thin veil drifted away from her body.
Something hidden emerged.
Only then did he realize something unsettling.
Before this moment, he had never truly been able to focus on Margarita’s face.
That was the effect of glamour cream. Even a witcher’s resistance could be deceived by a true sorceress’s enchanted cosmetics.
Golden hair.
A face that remained breathtaking despite nearly ten days of suffering.
The rumors had not exaggerated. Even a woodland nymph might have struggled to rival Margarita’s beauty.
The instant the glamour cream vanished, a flurry of noise erupted beyond the barrier.
Then came a thunderous boom.
Before their eyes, the air seemed to connect to some distant void.
A doorway appeared in midair, its edges glowing yellow while its interior remained pitch black.
A portal.
“Wow...”
Even burning with fever, Lannor could not help admiring the spell.
Now that was what a great sorcerer looked like.
A second sorceress stepped through the portal.
She was beautiful as well, though in a different way.
Everything about her felt traditional, almost old-fashioned.
Judging by her appearance, Lannor would have guessed she was barely thirty.
Her hands remained folded neatly before her abdomen, a posture so dignified that it felt almost ceremonial.
And she never changed it.
Without asking a single question, the traditionally dressed sorceress took one glance at Margarita and seemed to understand exactly how badly she was injured.
“Foolish.”
She never even moved a finger.
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