Beast Slayer Online: Initialization
Copyright© 2026 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 92: Out to Investigate
“Ungh ... hah...”
At dawn, the witcher’s hand suddenly clenched around the edge of the bed, fingers locking tight after lying limp and senseless for hours.
Only after two long seconds did they slowly loosen again.
One look at Lannor’s face made it obvious the experience had been anything but easy.
“Gods damn it...”
He shoved a hand into his bright silver hair and pressed hard against his temples.
The memories of enhancement surgeries did not interlink with one another, but absorbing three procedures at once still left his skull throbbing like it had been split with an axe.
His head still buzzed painfully, yet the corners of the witcher’s mouth had already begun to curl upward.
Three consecutive enhancement surgeries, properly ordered, and all compatible with his current body.
The harvest could hardly have been richer.
Enhancement surgeries required an exact sequence. Earlier implanted organs provided nutrients and biological support for later procedures.
Without skeletal reinforcement, for example, a human-sized chest cavity simply could not contain many of the later Astartes Implants.
Which meant Lannor was not merely drawing random “cards” from the sea of memories.
He needed to pull an entire matching set, in the correct order.
“My lord, time to wash up.”
Arya entered from outside carrying a large basin of water.
The moment she stepped inside, she saw Lannor grinding at his forehead in pain. Worry immediately crept across her face.
“Your head still hurts? It’s been days already. Maybe you should go see those sorceresses after all?”
Lannor gave up rubbing his temples with the air of a man surrendering to fate. The motion did absolutely nothing for the pain anyway. Habit, nothing more.
“It’s not really a problem ... ah, well. If you want strength, suffering comes with it.”
Arya might seem careless at first glance, but she was sharper than people expected.
She watched him carefully and quickly realized this was not the stubborn act of a dying man pretending to be fine. If anything, the self-destructive tone in his voice was irritatingly casual.
So her concern faded into annoyance instead. She rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath.
“Hmph. If I could become a powerful knight too, I’d endure any pain.”
Lannor had already picked up the basin and moved to the far side of the room to wash his face.
But there was no hiding muttered complaints from witcher senses.
“With those little twig arms and legs? I’ll just say ... well, having dreams isn’t a bad thing.”
Arya immediately clapped both hands over her mouth before glaring furiously at his back.
She had forgotten how sharp a witcher’s hearing was.
Still, that was a rotten thing to say.
“Quit pouting. You’ll have plenty to do today. We just arrived, which means you’ll need to take care of Pope properly. Extra feed, grooming, exercise. We could be staying in Vizima for quite a while. You’ll also need to get familiar with the innkeeper. If you need anything, have him prepare it...”
Lannor dried his hands while rattling off task after task.
Arya folded her arms across her chest, face full of resistance.
“I want to go outside and watch you fight! I don’t even need to join in, just watching would be enough! Besides, I’ve got a sword too, look. Shing!”
“No chance. Put away that ‘toothpick’ of yours. It’d struggle to stab through padded cloth. I’m not coming back from a fight only to clean up more trouble afterward. Fighting’s exhausting enough already. I’m leaving.”
By the time he finished speaking, Lannor was already fully dressed. He pulled up his hood and stepped out the door.
The list of chores he had given Arya would keep her busy all day.
Letting the girl run wild in the wilderness had been one thing. Inside a city, though, she needed responsibilities to keep her occupied.
Otherwise, with that restless personality of hers, there was no telling where she might wander off to.
Ignoring the indignant shouting behind him about how “this sword is called Needle,” Lannor headed downstairs.
At the inn counter, he bought two smoked-fish sandwiches and stuffed them beneath his cloak before stepping outside.
Two massive sandwiches, enough to fill an ordinary adult laborer for an entire day, disappeared within minutes of leaving the inn.
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