Chapter 305: 305. Vesemir
The awkward shouting continued, and Lann could imagine just from the sound, an old Demon Hunter being aimed at by countless tree spirits hidden in the forest.
After all, he had experienced it once before.
"What is he saying?"
While hurrying over, Lann asked Geralt, who obviously understood, what was being said.
With the physical abilities of Demon Hunters running through the forest, they were even more at ease than the native tree spirits.
So, Geralt could answer in the midst of the journey without breaking his breath.
"He is greeting, identifying his Demon Hunter status, mentioning he knows Aisne, saying that he stayed at Dun Kanar for a few days. That’s where the tree spirits of Brokilon gather."
As he spoke, another sentence was shouted in the ancient language, and Geralt’s expression suddenly turned surprised.
"Vesemir says... he’s here to see Aisne? He’s specifically here to meet the Tree Spirit Queen?"
Upon hearing Geralt’s translation, Lann also frowned.
He thought that King Venceslav found a renowned Demon Hunter Grandmaster to handle some tricky curse or monster.
But what kind of commission could make Vesemir head straight for the Tree Spirit Queen?
Soon, a female voice speaking the ancient language interrupted the conversation, finally breaking the solo performance of the old man.
In the mouths of tree spirits, the ancient language was like melodious singing.
Understanding their conversation, Geralt directly pulled Lann, who was still moving forward.
"Okay, stop. The tree spirit discovered us. She was just asking Vesemir when Demon Hunters started traveling together."
"Oh."
Lann nodded calmly, sliding Aron Dite back into the sheath at his waist.
For a regular human, what Geralt said would be as bad as a death sentence, as everyone knows how tree spirits treat humans who enter Brokilon.
But Lann was, after all, a Demon Hunter who had met the tree spirits and even briefly cooperated with them.
To avoid unnecessary hostility, Geralt and Lann stopped advancing and waited in place.
Soon, the sound of ’rustling’ from the friction of tree branches and leaves echoed around them.
Then, along a path the two Demon Hunters were already wary of, several tree spirits seemed to appear out of thin air, stepping out from behind trees that couldn’t possibly conceal them.
Bows and arrows were aimed at the two Demon Hunters’ eyes.
Geralt blocked Lann behind him with one hand and stammered a greeting: "Esseá Gwyn Bleidd!"
Lann guessed he was introducing himself.
The basis of eliminating hostility and the first step to show sincerity is to let others know who you are.
While Geralt was translating common speech into the ancient language in his mind and then speaking it clumsily,
he realized the tree spirits surrounding them seemed uninterested in him, the speaker.
The honey-haired tree spirit on the other side had her pupils focused past him, looking at what was behind him.
"Hi, nice to see you again, Bryan."
Like familiar humans casually greeting each other, Lann raised a hand and waved to the other side.
"What a coincidence, you patrolled here, and we meet again."
Geralt watched as the honey-haired tree spirit nodded to the bear cub behind him and then gestured to her kindred to lower their bows.
The corner of his mouth twitched involuntarily.
"You speak to them using the common language from the start? It’s lucky they even bother with you."
Geralt glanced backward, meeting the confused gaze of the young man.
I don’t know the ancient language; I definitely spoke in common language the whole way.
Geralt pursed his lips... Fine.
I knew good-looking people have it easy!
No one seemed concerned about the musings of a lone old wolf; Bryan tilted her head, scrutinizing the silver-haired Demon Hunter she’d briefly cooperated with before.
"The forest brings us together again."
After speaking, she turned to walk toward the direction the old voice came from, gesturing for the two Demon Hunters to follow obediently.
Following the tree spirit, even the tangling branches and weeds in the forest seemed to tame, reducing the exertion.
After walking a short distance behind Bryan, Lann and Geralt saw a brick-red-haired tree spirit talking to an old man, about 1.7 meters tall.
The brick-red-haired tree spirit was the leader of Bryan’s squad, whom Lann had met before.
And the 1.7-meter-tall old man, he too had white hair. But unlike Geralt’s sickly white hair and Lann’s dazzling silver hair, his was gray-white from natural aging.
He had a nose that was reddening but not swollen into a rhino’s nose.
He was wearing composite medium armor, made of cotton and chain mail with some metal plates.
Considering his apparent age, wearing such armor while maintaining an upright posture, and standing calmly this deep in the primal forest seemed unbelievable.
But his amber cat eyes made it all plausible.
"Geralt?"
The old man first noticed his student, exclaiming in surprise.
"Why are you here? Who is this beside you...?"
Lann felt a keen gaze sweep across his chest for a moment.
The oldest Demon Hunter he’d seen so far confirmed his school right at the moment of meeting.
Quite rare, since strangers usually focus on his face at first glance. This action was almost uncontrollable, much like how men cannot control their gaze towards a woman’s open neckline.
Geralt awkwardly coughed into his hand.
Lann, standing beside him, murmured softly.
"Buddy, the tone of that sounded like... an elderly grandparent stumbling upon a playful grandkid? You must be nearly a hundred now, right?"
"Ugh~ Vesemir is like that. He..."
"I always considered you lot like kids who would wet their pants at the sight of Demon Spirits. Speak candidly, Geralt. That’s what I think."
With the breath he hadn’t fully caught, Geralt was choked again by his school Grandmaster.
Lann sympathetically glanced at the continuously tormented White Wolf.
Knowing his apprentice well, Vesemir didn’t even look at Geralt; instead, he examined the unusually tall, silver-haired young man.
"Seems the incomplete mutation formulas you took eventually worked, a blind cat and a dead rat moment. Your emotions are rich and normal. Hello, Bear School Child. I am Vesemir of the Wolf School, an old Demon Hunter."
Surrounded by tree spirits lowering their bows, Lann collided his arm with the amiable smiling Wolf Sect Grandmaster, clasping each other’s forearms.
"Aside from you two coming to Brokilon for a mission, could you be looking for me?"
Upon releasing their grip, the Wolf Sect Grandmaster spoke casually.
"Unlucky for you, I’ve got a mission, and it’s quite busy. Can you wait if you have something urgent?"
Unexpectedly, Lann shook his head in embarrassment.
"Master..."
"Just call me by my name."
"Well then, Vesemir. The matter I’m here for also needs to be completed within a few weeks."
"Well, bit of a schedule conflict," the old Demon Hunter stroked his beard. "So, kid..."
"Are you interested in running a task with an old Demon Hunter?"
Lann smiled, "I’d be honored."