The sudden roar of fists, followed by the spray of blood, rendered all the villagers silent.
Lann released Mut's collar, leaving the limp body twitching nervously on the ground. Lady Leeds, originally lying on the ground, was no longer frightened by the bloody scene.
She felt as if the sky was falling; with Mut, the village elder, gone, her life had entered a countdown.
Yet Lann, after smashing Mut's entire jaw, displayed no sign of remorse.
The air hammer technique from Immortal Peak Temple's martial arts ensured that the splattered blood did not stain his gloves or face.
Only the hem of the Bear School Armor's robe and the waist area were stained crimson.
He glanced at Lady Leeds, who was so despairing she had lost even her panic, and threw a bone fragment to the ground.
Then using that bone fragment as a center point..."Yarden!"
A circle of runes glowing with a purple magical light emerged on the ground, surprising all, whether ordinary villagers or Lady Leeds, as they watched this scene.
Magic is scarce and precious knowledge; these villagers, even if they searched through three generations, might not have truly seen magic.
In the dim lighting, the supernatural aura of magic instilled both fear and curiosity.
After the glow of the Yarden Magic Seal faded, Lann picked up the bone fragment from the ground and tossed it to the stunned Lady Leeds.
"The field contaminated by the daytime Demon Spirit has returned to normal, but the residual evil magic of the Demon Spirit would still discomfort humans there. This bone fragment can protect the holder while farming in that field."
At once, everyone directed curious and inquisitive gazes toward the bone fragment in Leeds' hand, as if probing the legendary power of magic.
But Lann was well aware—this was a lie.
If the Yarden Magic Seal had such an effect, Demon Hunters could profit simply by producing amulets en masse.
"You said you couldn't live without your husband, this is help for you, having an extra field should be enough for you."
Before the Demon Hunter dealt with the daytime Demon Spirit, nobody cared about the words of a mutant.
But now, the villagers pay 120% attention to the experts' opinions. The source of this content ɪs NoveI[F]ire.net
A field that can be farmed again, after being deserted for two years, requires plowing again, setting up ridges... overall, it takes quite a bit of effort.
If this was an ordinary field, effort would be just effort, but here there's also 'the residual evil magic of the Demon Spirit'... it's truly not worth it for just a little plot of land.
Except for someone like Lady Leeds, who has no choice but to make a living, most other villagers don't want to have anything to do with that unlucky field.
Finally, after glancing around, all the villagers who had made eye contact with those cat eyes unknowingly avoided further gazes.
Lann hoisted Mut's corpse from the ground and walked toward Bopai, tied to the fence.
He planned to leave that night.
The next afternoon, Lann rode to the place he had agreed upon with Geralt.
This was the final stop on Geralt's investigation journey; they had agreed to meet here.
Mut's corpse was wrapped in canvas by Lann, and the winter temperature ensured it emitted nothing too unpleasant.
Lann brought the corpse mainly from considerations from many curse knowledge books which mentioned participants are crucial elements in curse rituals, maybe this corpse might play a role in lifting the curse.
Of course, the specifics depend on the judgment of an experienced veteran like Geralt.
But honestly, this old White Wolf seems never too trusting of me, now I've investigated all around and directly brought back a corpse...
Will he draw his sword against me directly?
Sitting on the horse, Lann quickly shook his head, dismissing the thought.
An old Demon Hunter is surely knowledgeable, experienced, calm, and composed... why would he trouble a young, inexperienced little bear cub?
Lann nudged Bopai's belly with his heels, and the well-bred warhorse started a trot forward.
The corpse laid horizontally on the horseback was already stiff there.
It's a typical Northern Countries village; Lann skillfully scared off dogs and chickens trying to chase him with mere eye contact.
After installing the "Second Heart" grown with dragon blood growth agent, he naturally could do such things.
Of course, the beasts mutated by being nourished by the source water in Iwami Country certainly wouldn't care about a few fierce looks.
Lann was searching for the old Demon Hunter he had arranged to meet, and as he passed by the village elder's slightly more luxurious house, he faintly heard celebrations and laughter inside.
He felt it might be a good happening for this village.
But Geralt was not inside.
The old Demon Hunter shouldn't miss the appointment; Lann was a bit puzzled about this, so he temporarily left Bopai by the village's fence, letting it graze and drink.
He then walked, trying to find traces of Geralt within the village.
This wasn't difficult; the village, being close to a lake, had mud-ridden ground, leaving boot prints with each step.
Demon Hunters' boots are of good quality, for they don't want their force-applying, gripping boots to fall apart or slip during a monster fight.
Such high-grade boots leave noticeable footprints in a village where most people don't even have shoes.
Lann raised his eyebrows, his eyes following the footprints on the ground, until he saw the direction of the prints—a mill windmill in the village.
A windmill? What's a Demon Hunter doing at such a place?
Now wasn't a busy time for the mill, so no one was watching here.
Lann followed the footprints over, halfway he heard the sound of a shovel thrusting into the ground, and the panting of the old Demon Hunter exerting effort.
Sure enough, going around a corner, Lann peeked out from behind the mill wall and saw that disheveled milky-white hair due to sweat and movement.
The abrupt voice didn't startle Geralt, though every Demon Hunter has a light step from swordsmanship training, Bear School's composite armor inevitably makes noise.
Even while concentrating on digging, Geralt could hear it.
Thus, the White Wolf simply moved the hair sticking to his cheek, glanced at the peeking bear cub, then continued to dig.
Lann's whole body emerged from behind the wall.
"Are you... digging for treasure?"
"Not digging for treasure," Geralt answered while continuing with the shovel, "I'm reclaiming a reward!"
"You also took quite some time, I suspect you might be like me, encountered a chain quest, right?"
The term 'chain quest' was unfamiliar to Lann, but thinking about it in context made it clear.
Taking a big assignment, then while out collecting information and necessary items, locals tell you 'help us a bit or forget getting things done'... this must be a chain quest.
Geralt, having been around for who knows how long, has surely seen plenty.