Astartes of the Bear School

Chapter 1997, 1969. Notice
“Appearing so suddenly like this can hardly be considered friendly.” The witcher placed the bag containing Torina’s water lilies on the ground. “Who are you? No, the more important question now is: which side are you on?”

On the other side of the vegetation's shadow, Dolores, with her bow drawn and arrow nocked, slowly emerged.

The arrow she nocked on the bowstring emitted a hazy, mesmerizing purple smoke.

Dolores frowned. Although she seemed to react almost simultaneously with Lann, she knew she was a step too slow.

The Witcher discovered the bloodstain directly from the shadows, while Dolores only noticed the anomaly when a human figure began to emerge from the bloodstain.

Under the gaze of the two Faded Ones, the figure emerging from the bloodstains made no move, as if this action was intended to dispel the Faded Ones' hostility.

With his tall and upright figure and hands behind his back, even a simple robe looked elegant and composed in this pose.

He was wearing a full-face helmet, but his long, gray hair still fell neatly down from the gaps in the helmet.

“【Veteran】Ampah?” Dolores sounded like she recognized the person in front of her, but she didn’t lower her bow and arrow. “How do you know about this place?”

It seems that he deliberately waited until the two faded individuals finished asking their questions and expressed their doubts and wariness before responding.

Ampah's hands, which were behind his back, remained still; he simply nodded to Lann and Dolores in turn.

“My name is Ampah,” he said, turning to introduce himself specifically to Lann, who did not recognize him. “I am currently serving my master, who should not yet be known to the world, so I cannot reveal his name. Please forgive me. But in terms of our positions, we should be colleagues.”

"However, even so, I am just an old, weak, and disabled soldier. If it is a situation that requires a large-scale battle, please do not take me to heart. Like now."

As he spoke, he shrugged, indicating that he didn't even have a knife on him.

Dolores had known him in the past, but they weren't particularly close. Besides, with the dynasty in such chaos, who knew whose side was reliable?
On the contrary, it was Lan En who had never heard of Ampah before.

The Witcher's amber cat eyes, which gleamed slightly in the shadows, scanned him up and down, pausing briefly at the bloodstains where Ampah stood.

He believed most of what Ampach said.

It wasn't for any other reason than the pool of blood and the pungent smell of blood on the man... He looked a lot like Elonmer, the "Iron Thorn" from Sunshade City.

The powers that cross borders can be roughly distinguished by their colors and emblems.

Lan En had already seen the power characteristic of 'blood', so he was able to quickly categorize it.

Ampach should be part of the same system as Elonmer, and Elonmer, who almost seized the entire Sunshade, regardless of whether his methods were legitimate or not, was definitely on Rodel's side.

They were simply intercepted by Lan En halfway there.

It is largely credible to infer Ampach's position from Elonmer's.

Is their so-called 'master'... really that close to Rodel?
Thinking this, Lan En relaxed his hand, which had been loosely gripping the hilt of the sword as if ready to draw it at any moment, and changed his posture to rest it on the hilt.

The slight clinking sound between the gauntlet and the hilt of the sword indicated a non-hostile attitude for the time being.

“It seems that this previously unknown Faded One has given me my trust first,” Ampah said calmly throughout. “Dolores, you’re really unfair.”

"This gentleman certainly wasn't questioned by you when he arrived here. Just because he knows this place must mean he's trusted by Rodel. But I also know this location, so why is that wrong?"

The woman dressed as a man slowly relaxed her taut bowstring: "He is the Faded One."

“That’s a concise and powerful answer.” Ampah stood still, appearing calm and composed. “But let’s get straight to the point. Although there’s some shade here, it would be a real injustice if the three of us stood here and were seen by the passing demigod alliance.”

"Tomorrow, you will all be able to leave this cramped place and show your skills on the battlefield."

With a casual remark, Ampah revealed the news that was troubling the hundreds of people at the garrison, causing them all great anxiety.

A wait with no clear end is just too agonizing.

Lann and Dolores' eyes narrowed simultaneously, but they didn't show anything else.

They are all seasoned veterans of the battlefield; controlling their emotions is a very basic skill for them.

The closer we get to war, the more we need to let ourselves be natural.

"Do you want to come in and read out the orders?" Dolores asked in a deep voice, stepping aside to make way for the entrance to the passage behind him.

“No, the quicker the better.” Ampah shook his head. “Let’s talk right here.”

“But according to Rodel,” Lane interjected, “we will see a clear signal, an all-too-obvious signal. Then we’ll join the battle. What will that signal be?”

“Blood.” Ampah said bluntly, but as Lann and Dolores listened to his words, they could almost imagine the smile on the old man’s lips beneath the helmet.

"Blood?" The woman dressed as a man frowned deeply. "The walls of Rodel are a battlefield, where blood is shed every day. What kind of signal is this?"

Ampah kept his hands behind his back, his tone resolute: "Tomorrow's blood will be very different, you faded ones. You will never be confused, and you will never be mistaken."

That's all I have to say. Please make your preparations accordingly.

Just as he emphasized, without any hesitation, after finishing speaking, Ampah's tall and upright body seemed to sink into the water, gradually becoming shorter over the thin pool of blood, and finally completely disappearing.

Finally, after he completely disappeared, the pool of blood that Dolores hadn't noticed beforehand, which had appeared silently nearby, seemed to have become just an ordinary pool of blood. Dried, blackened, and hardened.

Once Lan En and his companion confirmed that the pool of blood had lost its power, Dolores, out of some caution, even scrambled the bloodstains with his foot.

Grass clippings, fallen leaves, and soil separated and buried the bloodstains.

Lan En tossed a bag of Torina water lilies he had just collected to Dolores, who caught it without hesitation.

The two men continued walking without stopping, entering the passage and heading straight into the rear garrison point.
-
Despite the darkness of night, the camps of the demigod alliance were still filled with the glow of fire.

In the Golden Dynasty, fire was taboo, as it was considered detrimental to the Golden Tree. Although the Golden Tree wasn't afraid of just any fire, the imagery itself was enough to annoy people.

The Golden Age was so rich and wonderful, who would want it to end?

Therefore, fire should be used as sparingly as possible, and prayer should be used instead of lighting if there is any energy left.

However, within the Volcano Mansion's ranks, Rakad was clearly not stingy with the use of fire.

The fire-wielding martial arts practitioners walked confidently along the camp's roads, and during the daytime battles, they also openly used the power of fire to bombard Rodel's city walls.

Now that things have come to this point, Rajad has no intention of putting on an act anymore.

To stabilize the morale and faith of the army, he directly summoned the fire-wielding monks and fire bishops to the stage to preach and expound the scriptures. He used faith to solidify the warriors' mindset.

Rodel's walls are no joke; the casualties of the demigod alliance are steadily mounting.

Faced with these unyielding city walls, even the Volcano Mansion and the elite legions of Nymgford would inevitably waver.

Although they besieged Rodel and seized vast lands, manors, herb gardens, and mills outside the city, all the perfumers were in the city, and there was no one skilled enough to use the herbs.

The most skilled treatment method among the Allied field medics was to sever people's cervical vertebrae, causing them to become paralyzed without pain.

However, existing wounds will still fester inside, and organs will continue to fail.

A mysterious madness is spreading, and the dead bird flies through the sky every night, taking away some seriously wounded people and burning them.

The Demigod Alliance shared Rodel's conflicted and conflicted attitude towards the Dead Bird.

Being burned by the spirit fire of the dead bird means you will no longer suffer the torment of a broken body that cannot die; this is indeed a kind of liberation.

But in this age of disordered life and death, who can know where a person's soul goes after being burned by the spiritual fire?
Before the Golden Age, the dead bird was part of the world's death process.

However, this death process has been replaced by the 'Golden Tree Cycle System' under the Golden Law. Stable and beautiful.

Now that the Golden Law has collapsed again, who can be sure that the previous death process is now a complete version regression, or just the return of the Death Bird as a standalone item?
People in the ordinary world are often not really concerned about the procedures after a person dies.

Those who have come to terms with it face it with equanimity, while those who can't let go find solace in faith, legends, and myths, and that's it.

However, in this world, people must consider what journey their souls will take after death and what their fate will be. This is a real question, a necessary consideration based on the current situation.

I truly have a soul, and my soul can truly reincarnate. In this situation, you're asking me to disregard my soul in order to escape physical pain?

You dare say I wouldn't dare do it?

Therefore, those who are tormented to the point of collapse are hoping for the spirit fire of the dead bird, while those who can still hold on dare not easily believe that the spirit fire of the dead bird will place their souls somewhere.

Torches and campfires were burning brightly throughout the camp.

In the field hospital, which had gradually become bloody and gloomy since the start of the war, the cries of the wounded and the sounds of field doctors wearing white plaster masks moving about could be heard everywhere.

(End of this chapter)