1. Luren

ing or transportation.As for the monster hunters, it was more often used to hang trophies.Polton, as if reminded by Brun's words, turned his unmoving cat eyes towards the farmer sprawled in the field....The sound of horses' hooves, "tap, tap, tap," came from the winding and rugged road.

This place is not too close or too far from the village; it's mainly used as farmland by farmers.

On the edge of the field, the dog began to bark alertly, and the cat seemed to sense something. After puffing up its fur, it vanished in a flash.

This beast has always been sensitive to magic and spells.

In the direction of the hoofbeats, there was an old horse worth nothing, with a young man on its back.

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Lane tightened his grip on the reins, earnestly urging his mount forward.

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Wyvern, belonging to the northern nation of Temoria, is the poorest province.

At first glance, the vegetation seems lush and colorful, but anyone with a shred of dignity who spends two hours here will realize it's a disgusting place, like dog **.

Under the dense vegetation lies a swamp teeming with miasma. The abundant aquatic plants nurture countless creatures, but offer no convenience to humankind.

Or, these overgrowing, breeding "beings" are far more dangerous to ordinary people than the swamp itself.

The desolate swamps, impoverished villages, rude yokels, and monsters that appear from nowhere are probably the only impressions people have of this place.

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The weary farmer on the dike looked up; passersby were the rare and precious topic of conversation in their impoverished lives.

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So the farmer looked carefully at the passersby.

His face was pale and drained of color, but he still seemed spirited.

Unlike the facial features of humans on the mainland, their eye sockets are not deep enough and their noses are not high enough, but they have delicate features and good skin.

However, compared to those ostracized and discriminated against non-human races, such as elves, dwarves, and gnomes, it is clearly "human."

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Somewhere so far that even a king's urine couldn't reach, that's where those humans came from, right

That's better than those damn inhuman races.

The farmer, leaning on his hoe, let out a couple of snorts and spat a mouthful of phlegm onto the ground, tilting his head.

The cheap blue cotton overalls were dark and shiny, even the cotton stuffing around the waist was bursting out. The cowhide boots, without a thick sole, were also cheap goods. Though they rubbed against his feet, at least he could walk freely on the ground.

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It's normal to have a sword in Werin.

But, a sword strapped to one's back

Even farmers know...no one carries a sword like that, on their back.

How could he pull it out when he was slashing people

The farmer was about to smirk, even though he didn't even have a pair of shoes. After all, when it comes to "teasing," there aren't many rules.

But the next moment, he saw the approaching boy's pupils.

“Cat, cat eye! Mutant freak!!”

Sarcasm turned to panic, the farmer cried out, as if he had seen some terrible contagious disease, some horrifying filth, and retreated again and again.

Even while falling backwards in a heap, their hands and feet were still moving back relentlessly.

A signature characteristic of Monster Hunters is a pair of cat eyes.

Ancient humans created these mutated warriors to combat monsters, a once noble aspiration and profession that now stands as a plague in the eyes of modern society.

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Lane sighed inwardly, barely perceptibly. He could only comfort himself mentally: come on, a magical medieval era is still the Middle Ages.

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Those amber cat eyes simultaneously glanced down at the farmer.

Then, Lan En began to tighten the reins, controlling his steed.

Old Ma was gentle, and not strong. But he was also starving, and had only been learning to ride for a week.

If someone were to be directly thrown onto a horse and whipped if they fell off during the journey, that would be considered "learning" .

>

"Sigh..."

The farmer's dog was black and white, loyal and faithful.

Even though the old horse's hooves could almost crush it in one step, it still darted straight toward its master from between the horse's hooves.

>

Luan spent a lot of effort to ensure that this loyal dog remained unharmed.

He was so hungry that he was even panting.

But seeing the little dog bouncing happily towards its owner, he still let out a barely perceptible sigh of relief.

But just as the dog was about to pounce on its owner, a slender black shadow brushed past Lane's leg.

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"Whoosh!"

"Oh oh!"

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A deafening, chilling crack echoed through the air. The lively and loyal pup exploded into a shower of blood and screams before it even hit the ground.

A crossbow bolt shot from the back, penetrating diagonally through the front of his chest.

The dog didn't respond to its owner, but instead, its twitching and nervous body crashed into the farmer's legs.

The farmer was terrified.

Lane's originally relaxed expression tightened abruptly, returning to the cold indifference of ice. His body, along with the aged steed, froze solid.

A tall and imposing figure, riding a similarly powerful steed, passed by Lauren's side at a leisurely pace.

A man's beard is thick and abundant, like that of a human-shaped brown bear.

But his face, devoid of any emotional fluctuation, seemed like a block of ice without feeling.

Two swords were carried on his back.

He wore sturdy and finely crafted composite armor.

Chainmail, leather armor, iron armor, and padded armor were alternately assembled to form a coat of mail reaching the calf.

A pendant of a roaring bear's head swung from his neck with the rhythm of the horse's gait.

And his eyes, just like Lane's — amber cat eyes.

A man on horseback bent over, grabbing the tail of a crossbow bolt as he passed by a farmer. He pulled the body of the dog out of the field.

It's hard to imagine someone wearing at least 30 kilograms of armor being able to move so smoothly and nimbly.

The puppy's body was still convulsing nervously, and the death rattle coming from its mouth was pitiful and tragic.

But he didn't even glance at it.

Drawing his crossbow bolt from the quivering dog skin with a "poof" sound, he wiped it clean and returned it to his pocket.

And the dog's body was just thrown to Lan En.

The worn cotton armor was even dirtier.

Young people can feel the passing of life in their hands.

He still couldn't get used to this feeling.... No, perhaps it was more accurate to say that in order to preserve the echoes of his past life, he refused to allow himself to lose his sensitivity to this feeling.

But Laneen's face only twitched a muscle slightly, an almost imperceptible movement.

Immediately, the expression on her white and pure face transformed into nothingness, just like a man's.

“Bond, what are you going to do with it”

“That’s our lunch.”

Bolton's voice was as still as his face.

"Dogs, they are easy to catch."

Dogs are species that have made compromises at the genetic level with humans. Even if humans don't like dogs, they will still find them either cute or agile.

At the very least—they will be treated differently emotionally.

But Bolton's words treat it as just a lump of meat.

Lan En's face, as pale as ice, showed no sign of change. He spurred his horse forward, "We shouldn't draw attention to ourselves any longer, Bolten. You know what the situation is."

Lane's hands were trembling slightly, but that didn't affect his action of hanging the dog's body on the saddle hook.

That hook is commonly found in butcher shops, and it's used to latch onto chunks of meat for easy hanging or transportation.

As for the monster hunters, it was more often used to hang trophies.

Polton, as if reminded by Brun's words, turned his unmoving cat eyes towards the farmer sprawled in the field.

The farmer's trousers were suddenly soaked in a large patch.

“You're right, I'm on the run, so...”

He dismounted with a clatter of plate mail, but instead of drawing the sword from his back, he drew the dagger hanging from his breast.

He wanted to kill someone.

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Blue immediately recognized this.

And he knew all too well, for a monster hunter who had no emotions left in his life, with only money and physical needs remaining.

Killing a living human to cover one's tracks is not something worth hesitating over.

>

The young man was also expressionless at this time.

He stumbled down from the old horse and hurried toward Bolten.

But the farmer seemed to still have some courage left, his expression nearly collapsing as he tightly gripped his hoe.

Although still scared and unable to stand, he now had some intimidation factor.

"Wait, Boruto!"

When Lan En got within two meters of the farmer in Porton, he stopped him.

The boy carefully avoided touching his armor, remembering the last time he had, Bolten had snapped three twigs off him.

If there's a next time, he bluntly said he would cut off one of his own hands.

>

In his eyes, that set of Bear School armor was much more valuable than his own.

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"Let's stop for a moment, we can't just kill him like this. Murder itself leaves traces, doesn't it"

But even so, Lan En still stood in front of Bolong.

His expression was still cold, as if he didn't care about a farmer's life at all, only considering the schedule for the two of them.

Borough's face darkened, and after a moment of thought, he sheathed his dagger.

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The mutation that afflicted the Monster Hunter robbed him of his emotions, but not his mind.

Lane turned his head, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

After a brief consideration, Paul's gaze shifted from the farmer to Brun, and he suddenly spoke.

"How is your practice with the Axil Seal going"

That is one of the five magical tricks of a monster hunter, used to disrupt the minds of creatures.

>

Lean, who had turned his head, first narrowed his catlike eyes, then returned them to their usual state.

By the time he met Polton’s gaze, there was not a trace of it left.

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"No, not really. I haven't had much time to practice at all. You handle the training, you know that."

>

Lane's tone was natural and calm.

"Hmm." Borto scratched his thick beard and nodded. "Right now, all you need to do is get familiar with the runes of the Quen sign."

The Kunn seal is used for physical damage protection.

The man walked straight past Blaine this time, and the boy no longer stood in his way.

From behind the man, a magical spark flickered faintly, and then the farmer’s tense expression became vacant.

You didn't see anyone just now, your dog ran into the woods by itself, and you dare not go in.

As if the words were set and uttered from Polton's still mouth.

Until the farmer nodded dumbly, he didn't hesitate. He crossed over Lane without a word and turned to leave.

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Lan En followed behind, awkwardly mounting his horse which delayed him for a few seconds.

Bolton knew how terrible this boy's horsemanship was, so he didn't look back.

But, it was in these few seconds.

The boy's cat eyes glanced at the dumbfounded farmer, while his left hand subtly made a gesture.

Magic sparkled in his hand, coalescing into an inverted triangle.

That is a mature, complete... Axifalrunic inscription!

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The farmer's muddled and confused eyes suddenly had a flicker of something different.

"Good luck, you jerk."

"Oh, no..."

Retracting his gaze, Lan En mounted the horse with a light and silent grace. Perhaps even the world's finest riders couldn't match him in their control over a steed.

The amber cat eyes narrowed slightly in the shadow of the backlight, that plain determination... Just like a tiger hunting!

"Wishing you both good luck."haps even the world's finest riders couldn't match him in their control over a steed.The amber cat eyes narrowed slightly in the shadow of the backlight, that plain determination... Just like a tiger...