Bear School Astartes-Chapter 778 - 761. Shoemaker

"You two stay outside for now."

Lann dismounted from the back of the qilin, with Fluffy and the qilin both looking at him blankly.

"Is there something going on, meow?"

The calico cat adjusted the somewhat slipping Face-covering Knight’s Helmet and said solemnly.

"If there’s a battle, I’m ready anytime, meow!"

These words from the little cat’s mouth were exceptionally firm and decisive. It even raised its little paw with its plundering knife to emphasize its tone.

The qilin’s nostrils also released a fine blue arc of electricity.

But to this, Lann simply smiled and waved his hand.

"No, I just think the two of you coming along might scare some people. The people here aren’t that strong at accepting unusual things compared to others."

"And although the living conditions aren’t as good as the new continent, it’s not an outright lawless land where you have to fight every few steps, so there’s no need to be so tense."

"Oh."

Fluffy sheepishly stuck out its tongue and put away the plundering knife.

The reason mainly lay in something Lann had said before they left, which made the little cat too nervous.

"So, me and the qilin wait for you here, meow?"

"Yes." Lann nodded, "It shouldn’t take too long."

Walking out of the small forest from the landing point, the branches were pressed aside by the physique of the Demon Hunter, scraping against the armor and making a rustling sound.

At first glance, it seemed as if some large beast were about to burst out of the forest.

And by the lake, a fisherman was mending his fishing net. He quickly pulled out a short sword from a pile of sewing tools, holding it tightly, nervously yet confusedly watching the forest.

It wasn’t until the Demon Hunter’s figure emerged from the woods.

He suddenly let go of the short sword, releasing a long breath.

"Ah, is it you?"

Lann had never seen him before, yet the man acted like a villager who had seen the Demon Hunter around the village but never wandered up to him.

In fact, despite Lann’s clearly extraordinary size, he squatted back down to continue mending his fishing net on his own.

Lann tilted his head, watching this scene with interest.

His extraordinary senses allowed him to hear the fisherman’s accelerated heartbeat and smell the cold sweat on his skin...

"A normal person would run away when encountering something like a large beast in the nearby woods, not draw a short sword, sir,"

Lann said lightly as he passed behind the "fisherman."

"The way you held yourself made me think you were confident you could stab a wild boar to death with a short sword. With such skills, you’re still just a fisherman here?"

The "fisherman" had a momentarily imperceptible stiffness.

But he soon put on a puzzled expression, turning his head to look at Lann from the ground.

As if he really was just a local fisherman with no knowledge or insight.

But as he walked on familiar ground, Lann could already sense the vitality in the village and the exchange of information.

The natural ability of the Sons of the Emperor to perceive group emotions was always most effective and excellent among intelligent beings.

There was truly no room for it to be showcased while fighting amidst the monsters.

Walking on the dark, muddy land of the village, Lann kicked aside the wandering chickens and ducks, avoiding the dog and cow dung on the ground, and wound his way to the general store by Dim Water.

The owner of the general store was still a familiar face, but beside him stood a new cobbler.

Around this cobbler’s neck, like a necklace, hung shoe designs he had made with his own hands.

Bald, wearing what looked like a cheap monocle.

His shoe stall was a large trailer, with windows on all four sides, that could be opened up into a temporary stall once parked.

Inside were piled all kinds of boots and shoes.

Upon seeing Lann approaching, first the general store owner rubbed his eyes groggily, then suddenly erupted into an earth-shattering cheer.

"Ah? Aha!"

The general store owner practically ran out from his shop, coming to stand in front of the Demon Hunter.

"Lord Lann? Is it really you?"

"Meretelli! I’m, I’m..."

His lips were moving, but he was too excited to find the words for a moment.

It wasn’t until Lann patted him on the shoulder that he was calmed down.

"Hey, don’t act like this is our first meeting. I remember the first time I came here to buy feverfew from you, you overcharged me because I was unfamiliar. Remember? Why so excited?"

"It’s different!" he vehemently retorted, writhing his body with the emotion of it, "Different! The last time I saw you, I didn’t know you’d accomplished something so huge!"

"You’re a hero!"

"Oh my, I actually touched your body! A real, living body!"

By the end, the owner was staring at his own hands in disbelief.

"Did I just become a relic?" Lann asked with an exasperated tilt of his head, "How about you bottle your wash water and try selling it?"

But to Lann’s shock, the owner was seriously considering it!

These past few months... what sort of legend had they made out of me after that war?

A living saint?

Lann knew he had stirred quite a commotion but didn’t expect it to be this big!

In truth, he was merely an outsider who hadn’t been in this region long enough to deeply feel the invisible pressure Niflgaard’s empire exerted on the Northmen.

For decades before, the pressures from this theocratic slave state had been looming over the entire continent.

The Northern People were hearing more frequently about Niflgaard’s territorial expansions once again.

’The Niflgaard Empire can never have a correct and precise map of its borders because the Empire’s expansion never stops.’

This common saying among Niflgaard mapmakers had once been very famous.

Until last time, the unprecedented great war.

Niflgaard had expended an entire grand army’s strength, gaining only a small piece of Sintra.

Niflgaard’s failure, unprecedented, was laid bare for the world to see.

And that failure was the embodiment of the wrath of one person.

There was no story more legendary than this.

The general store owner was almost too excited to speak, repeatedly grasping Lann’s hands and muttering, "Have a drink, please!"

Without waiting for Lann to agree, he stumbled off toward the village tavern.

It wasn’t until the figure of the general store owner disappeared around the corner that Lann spoke without turning around to the cobbler behind him.

"Compared to overly excited ordinary folks, being too calm seems strange too, sir."

The surroundings were silent just then, aside from the sound of the cobbler polishing the shoe surfaces with rough leather, and the smell of cow dung lingering in the air.

"There are no less than three pieces of information being passed around in this village right now, but in the end, they’re all gathering here."

Lann turned around, spreading his hands toward the cobbler who had ceased his work.

"Or is it now that being a cobbler somewhere means such a show of skill?"

The cobbler’s tongue rolled around his lips before he spoke.

"I damn well told them from the start, having all that junk does nothing but get in the way. No choice, a bunch of idiots taken for sows think they’re more professional than me."

With that, the bald cobbler threw the shoe and rough leather he had been holding into the trailer, as if he had long grown tired of them.

"Just call me Taler. My apologies, master. My hands are dirty, better not dirty yours. Weren’t you talking about a drink? How about we head to the tavern?"

Being seen through by a Demon Hunter who could single-handedly take down a mixed division of the Niflgaard forces didn’t faze this otherwise unimposing man. He even invited Lann.

I have to say, even with a Demon Hunter’s experiences, his colorful expletives were truly a surprise.

So Lann gladly accepted.