Beast Slayer Online: Initialization
Copyright© 2026 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 7: No Mercy For Strays
Bordon’s trust in Lannor came from how thoroughly the boy seemed Bear School.
Cold as an iceberg. Pitiless. That was the impression Lannor had given his teacher from the moment the witcher mutation was complete.
Most witchers of the School of the Bear had little left in the way of feeling. It meant they could draw steel and kill over a single wrong word without the faintest weight on the mind. It also meant even hatred came thin to them. Coin mattered. Bodily needs mattered. Taken together, that meant they cared only for the maintenance of life.
Bordon had kept Lannor alive, fed him, and taught him witcher skills. The process had been unpleasant, often cruel, but it had been real.
In Bordon’s eyes, Lannor’s mind should have worked much like his own. There was no need for hatred.
But there was one question Bordon had never considered.
What if Lannor had kept his feelings from the beginning?
What if his witcher mutation had been perfect?
The cheap blade screamed through the air.
Bordon’s pupils shrank. Even the hairs on his skin bristled.
However cheap a Velen longsword might be, sharp iron could still kill.
Lannor’s timing was critical, so critical that Bordon almost took it for coincidence. From what he knew of his apprentice, the young man should not have had the combat experience to seize that instant.
Bordon’s muscles had all been set for a forward rush, prepared a heartbeat earlier to finish the sword-and-shield infantryman by force. Now that rigid tension robbed him of flexibility. Relaxation and contraction took less than half a second, but in swordplay, half a second was more than enough to die.
He had to charge forward. His muscles had already chosen. Unless he wanted to fall, he could not change it.
His emotionless mind served him well.
The bear-like giant crashed toward the sword-and-shield infantryman like a wall, yet in the same motion, Bordon shifted his shoulder with the grace of a dancer. The scabbard fixed there swung with it.
Crack.
Under Bordon’s taut, needle-sharp perception, the Velen longsword struck the scabbard of his silver sword and was knocked aside. Had it hit an empty sheath, it likely would have punched straight through.
Lannor had launched himself forward the instant he threw the blade. Seeing the deflection, his brow tightened slightly.
A witcher who had lived gods knew how long and hunted gods knew how many monsters; even after overestimating Bordon as much as he could before making his move, Lannor still had to admit his teacher’s skill.
But that would not change the result.
Resolve sat in the young man’s eyes like stone.
“He’s the only one wanted. There’s no quarrel between us.”
With a single sentence, Lannor snapped the dazed halberdier back into himself.
The soldier had seen the battle turn and the strength of the older witcher. He had no choice left. He leveled the halberd and followed behind Lannor.
A strong enemy was the surest guarantee of an alliance.
Lannor’s throw could not be dismissed. Hungry, weakened, fresh from dragging seventeen Nekkers across half the valley, he was still a witcher throwing a longsword.
Bordon’s bear-like charge staggered under the impact.
Yet the old witcher’s experience and adaptability were frightening. He did not fall from the sudden blow to his balance. Instead, he gripped his sword in both hands and raised his arms high, abandoning defense of his torso entirely as he lifted the finely made Bear School steel sword over his head.
His weight pitched forward, strength and body mass pressing down through the blade.
A furious descending cut.
“Haaah!”
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.