Bear School Astartes
Chapter 42. Alchemy Materials

Chapter 42: 42. Alchemy Materials

As dinner approached, Lann and Bernie steered the boat back to the village, ready to rest.

After a period of adjustment, they determined a more efficient work schedule.

Heading out in the morning, returning to the village by evening, taking advantage of the downtime before bed to repair and prepare equipment.

Everything would be ready for use again the next morning.

The long-term hunting work was not only helping the villagers of Auridon, but Lann himself was learning the lifestyle habits of a Demon Hunter.

In the initial jobs, he wasted half a day just waiting for equipment.

Details like scheduling are things that can’t really be taught, but must be experienced firsthand to truly grow.

Time equates to work efficiency, and in a self-sustaining "service industry," inefficiency even makes eating a problem.

As soon as the boat was docked, a little boy with a large head and small body due to malnutrition dashed over.

"White, have you been waiting long?"

Lann carefully disembarked from the boat and greeted the boy.

"Not long, not long." The boy quickly shook his hands repeatedly.

From the other side, he deftly took the sheathed silver sword Lann handed to him.

"The usual routine - take the sword to Ivan’s place, feed Bopai, and then..."

Lann said with a smile, flicking a shiny Oren into White’s palm with a snap.

"That’s your pay for five days’ work."

"Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!"

White’s big head bobbed up and down with the bouncing coin, his eyes sparkling with excitement like a cat eyeing a fish treat.

The boy hugged the sword and joyfully skipped towards the village blacksmith’s shop.

Behind him, Bernie was tying the boat to the dock and stepped onto land.

"Are you going to Madam Donald’s place next?"

Lann nodded.

"Yes, although slashing through Water Ghosts is satisfying and safe now, the cotton armor... "

The young man raised the arm section of his school armor where he grabbed the "Water Ghost Meat Shield," showing how the steel structure inside was intact.

But the outer layer of the cotton armor had become tattered from the Water Ghosts’ struggles.

"The work of a Demon Hunter is certainly costly... Alright, I’ll head to the tavern. Come find me if you want a drink."

"Alright, see you."

When Lann dropped off the cotton armor outer cover at Madam Donald’s place, he happened to run into White heading home after finishing his tasks.

The little boy smiled sheepishly at the young man, his fingers clutching the hem of his clothing.

Lann casually flicked an Oren from his hand with a snap.

"Hey, here’s your pay!"

The boy immediately forgot his embarrassment, scrambling to catch the hopping coin.

Looking back, Lann was already heading towards the village tavern on his own.

Sensitivity, or the purity of a child’s heart at this age, can bring a sense of peace.

...Especially when you’re teasing them.

Initially, White pretended not to know Madam Donald, attempting to get Lann to order more clothes from his mother to improve their family situation, at least sparing her from heavy work.

But as Lann managed the cotton armor cover, he repeatedly ran into the boy.

Recalling their second encounter, Lann couldn’t help but smile.

Upon entering, White saw Lann and was startled, as if he’d entered the wrong place.

Then, with cheeks blushing, he told Lann passionately about how "my clothes are made here," "look at the craftsmanship, won’t wear out!" And "buy a few more pieces because of this."

Madam Donald laughed so hard her hair fell from her headscarf.

Lann just stood there watching him perform.

What expression could he show?

A boy, under his strong and childish sense of shame, spun a small lie in hopes of improving his family’s environment, blushing furiously in the process.

Lann smiled and followed his suggestion, ordering a few more casual outfits for spares.

Anyway, he needed to frequently change his underclothes inside the armor, so he might as well buy them here.

This is why White often looked embarrassed when he saw Lann.

With some time spent, Lann realized White didn’t harbor resentment toward him.

It’s uncertain how Madam Donald raised him, but in a world rampant with racial discrimination, that boy could distinguish between hatred for the group and individuals.

White disliked, or was offended by, the Demon Hunter group that killed his father, which was inevitable.

But towards Lann, who helped the village, his attitude was quite friendly.

"There’s nothing unusual about that. Gulping—" Bernie took a large gulp from his drink.

"Since his father’s death, Little White seemed to mature and worked harder... Damn, seeing him like that makes me wonder if disappearing for a while would be better for my child."

Already having pink cheeks, the fisherman and Hunter tilted his head thoughtfully.

"Just let his mom say I got bitten in the neck by a Water Ghost, how about that?"

"Not so great." Lann wiped beer foam from his mouth, he grimaced. "If Little White can let go of resentment, I’ll consider myself fortunate. I don’t want your child glaring at me like I’m a monster."

Old Allen chimed in: "Lann is right, don’t overdo it, it’s a blessing from the Goddess if a child grows up, don’t expect anything more."

"Alright, alright..." Bernie waved dismissively, he was just saying.

"By the way, Lann, you mentioned using Alchemy for some Magic Potion? What materials do you need, perhaps talk to Old Allen about it."

Setting down his drink, Old Allen perked up.

"Lann, you can make Magic Potions? Are you a healer too!"

In this era where medicine isn’t advanced, it’s hard to distinguish between the roles of Alchemists, Witch Doctors, and Physicians.

Because they all overlap.

What excited Old Allen about this was: If Lann was a healer, then his impact on the village would be even greater!

Other villages wouldn’t dare to call on Demon Hunters for medical help... Auridon wouldn’t exactly dare either.

But if they were going to seek Lann out, none would refuse.

"I’m just a novice in Alchemy." Lann hurriedly waved his hands to lower the village elder’s expectations.

"Whether it works or not depends on practice; I collected some materials outside, and there are usable resources from the monsters, but what I can’t find by the lakeshore, I hope villagers can help look in the wild."

"No problem, when you ask, they’ll be more than willing to help." Old Allen seemed more confident in Lann’s reputation than Lann himself.

"White Crape Myrtle petals, just that. I can find honeysuckle, feverfew by the lake but can’t find this."

Lann spread his hands, stating his difficulty.

Old Allen was about to assure him, but was interrupted by a sound from the tavern window.

"White Crape Myrtle petals! No problem!"

A big-headed boy poked his head in, the little face flushed red, showings its tension.

Yet he resolutely looked at the surprised Lann.

"Sir, leave it to me!"

He finished, darting away in a blur before Lann could react.

"That kid..." Bernie was now stunned, "Was he eavesdropping?"

"Damn it!" Lann suddenly understood, widening his eyes and cursing reflexively.

"What did you say? No... " Bernie didn’t understand Chinese, but quickly moved on, "You can hear a Swamp Witch digging in the mud but not a kid crouching by the wall?"

"I was drinking!" To protect his reputation for being exceptionally perceptive, Mr. Lann immediately retorted.

Pleading his case, "I was in a safe place, drinking with my friend! This doesn’t count!"

At the same time, shouting internally, "Mentos! You’ve seriously failed your duty!"

Mentos thought he didn’t ask to stay vigilant, combat mode only activated when Lann said so, didn’t he?

But it knew the best way to deal with Lann right now was to stay quiet.

Luckily, Bernie didn’t dwell on the issue.

"Okay, alright, picking petals doesn’t require going into the forest, at most it’ll be by the roadside, nothing dangerous. He’s made good use of that Oren coin."

Lann had generously overpaid for Little White’s work, everyone knew it, and White himself knew.

That’s why he was eager to do more for Lann.

Lann shrugged, agreeing with Bernie’s words.

But Old Allen furrowed his brow slightly.

"In theory, there shouldn’t be an issue, but I’ve heard children gone missing from Midcops, and they’re not far from us... "

He didn’t finish, shaking his head.

"The village is near the white crape myrtle, those blasted kidnappers shouldn’t dare approach, let’s proceed like that."