Chapter 797: 780. Wild Hunt
"What are you talking about? It’s sumr now...how is that possible?!"
Belengar refuted the woman’s words based on his experience and knowledge, but quickly, his own cat eyes’ pupils involuntarily shrank sharply.
Outside this small inn, a column of cavalry seed to appear out of nowhere on the road.
Heavy yet extraordinarily elusive hoofbeats trampled the muddy country roads of Velen, accompanied by the increasingly hurried sound of rainwater being frozen into hail and crashing down.
The Wild Hunt, from their appearance, is a group of ghost knights riding skeletal horses, led by the King of the Wild Hunt, galloping through the night sky. Accompanying their ride was lightning, ghostly wails, and nightmares.
Lann had never encountered such a renowned magical phenonon.
Yes, until today, Lann always thought the so-called Wild Hunt should be a magical phenonon, or victims from ancient tis who have been tornted by so large curse until now.
In folklore, the Wild Hunt is an ominous sign, foretelling war and other disasters.
Strong individuals are abducted during their procession, only to be found after ages as soulless husks.
But today, the Wild Hunt clearly showed their strong intent.
Intent directed at an enigmatic woman!
"I have to go."
The beautiful woman with mouse-gray hair stared at the inn’s door, as if that door with unevenly spliced gaps could provide her with an illusory sense of security.
At the sa ti, her tall legs in high-heeled boots began retreating.
"Please help
stop them, my lord. Just like you protected
before, as you promised ."
Her tone was natural, very sincere and trusting. As if Lann truly had made such a promise to her.
But Lann didn’t rember, and even ntos didn’t rember.
"Sir..." The voice of the bio-intellect echoed softly in Lann’s mind, "Did you really find a way to turn
off? She does seem very sincere."
ntos’s tone, as always, had the style of a British butler.
Because of that, when it sounded sarcastic, it was especially infuriating. Lann hadn’t considered this when setting its tone.
So now, the young demon hunter felt his teeth ache from anger.
"I’ve been thinking you might be shirking your duties! If I can’t rember, and you tell
you don’t know either, then what are you good for?!"
"But you know in your heart that is not possible, sir." ntos responded thodically to its host, tone as elegant as ever. "I never miss anything."
Soon, the chatter of the bio-intellect was forcibly suppressed by its host.
Lann’s attention returned to his mind’s exterior.
"I don’t recall us eting before, miss."
The demon hunter’s necklace shook more violently, as Lann lightly shook his head and slowly stood up from the stool.
His huge body cast an even larger shadow under the lamplight...an oppressive presence different from that of the Wild Hunt outside.
Yet the woman being rudely questioned by him didn’t seem to mind this oppressive feeling at all, nor did she think Lann would do anything to her.
She continued to smile lightly and retreat: "Actually, you’ve already recognized , haven’t you?"
The young demon hunter didn’t respond directly, continuing with a stern face: "But that’s impossible! She... after her birthday this year, she would only be fourteen years old, but you?"
The woman paused and then continued: "I really didn’t expect to hear ’impossible’ coming from you one day."
She smiled happily.
"It seems arriving a bit early does bring so unexpected pleasures. I got to see this side of you that you haven’t shown ."
"But unfortunately, I don’t have much ti left, or else I’d love to stay in this room with you for a week without stepping outside."
The woman’s strange words didn’t change Lann’s expression at all, as his tolerance for dirty jokes had greatly improved through encounters with female warlocks; this one hardly played along.
And after saying this, the tall woman with mouse-gray hair had retreated to the counter.
She turned and patted the wary Belengar’s shoulder.
"Rember to bring
a gift, master."
The old demon hunter looked bewildered: "What do you an? We haven’t even t!"
The woman didn’t explain, she rely pulled so silver coins from her waist bag and tossed them onto the counter.
Not caring if the frightened innkeeper caught them, she confidently took a dried fish, whole chicken, and so garlic and onions from the wall.
In one agile move, she flipped out through the inn’s small rear window.
The dogs outside, having thought there was another tasty leftover, yelped as a living person jumped over and startled them.
Her movents were so light, making Belengar click his tongue in admiration.
After all, although the woman was only wearing light leather armor and chain mail, which weighed about ten to twenty pounds, it would still impact agility.
It’s rare for ordinary people to make such nimble moves in that attire.
In fact, among demon hunters, only those from the Cat School might manage it.
But while Belengar was only amazed, Lann frowned during the woman’s window-escaping move.
Those techniques and breaths... so familiar!
But there wasn’t ti to dwell on the woman’s issues now.
Outside this small inn, the haunting hoofbeats of the ghost cavalry were already rapidly approaching!
Lann turned towards the sound of hooves and walked towards the inn’s door.
He pulled down his hood, and his hair, resembling molten silver, cascaded down, along with his almost supernatural beauty, nearly lighting up this dim inn.
The innkeeper and patrons at two tables held their breaths.
"Hey, that is the Wild Hunt, you haven’t dealt with such a thing before."
Belengar whispered as he approached Lann’s side.
"Did you really know that strange woman? Even if you did, it’s not necessary to face the Wild Hunt head-on, is it?"
"No, we don’t know each other," Lann shook his head. "But if it’s really as I suspect..."
Lann didn’t finish his sentence, only furrowing his brow deeper.
"Anyway, let’s hold them off for now."
The young demon hunter unfastened the cloak clasp at his neck.
He handed the heavy wide-hooded cloak to Belengar.
Along with it, Lann pressed Belengar’s shoulder, pinning the old demon hunter, who wanted to join him, against the counter.
"I don’t trust your combat strength, just don’t ss things up for , master."
The final ’master’ was clearly a sarcastic remark, but Belengar had been ’mocked’ about his combat strength when he first t Lann.
So he simply pouted, not arguing.
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