"Did you make any discoveries?"
Henrik clicked his tongue while squeezing past the corpse of the gatekeeper, entering the door.
Lann pressed his temples for a while, then quickly adapted to the new sensory changes.
"Sort of... Master William’s research seems to be making good progress."
To what extent has Byron Vis’ great scholar researched [Spiritual Vision]?
So much so that even his crazed servant could stimulate Lann’s [Spiritual Vision]
"Having some findings means this trip wasn’t for nothing, let’s keep moving."
Henrik called out, leading the way down the spiral staircase inside the door.
This spiral staircase vaguely retained its once grandeur, but time had eroded it, causing large cracks and falling stone pieces.
The Old Hunter hadn’t traveled this path in a long time, but when Byron Vis hadn’t closed off, he was a frequent traveler on this path.
Thus, right now, Lann felt that although Henrik occasionally hesitated or paused in certain areas, he quickly and keenly found the correct route by comparing memories and the present.
A beastly patient with distorted bones, barely wearing clothes, swung a carpenter’s saw at Lann.
The Lady of the Lake’s Sword gently blocked the saw’s path, emitting a blinding shower of sparks.
Then, the gleaming blade thrust forward, piercing through the wolf-headed patient’s mouth. With a sweep, the hairy, deformed body slumped onto the muddy ground.
Meanwhile, the Old Hunter’s sawtooth blade laboriously withdrew from the rib of a beastly patient with a "Kara La" sound.
Even after the corpse fell for a while, Henrik hadn’t finished cleaning the fur and flesh off the blade.
"A good weapon is a hassle to maintain, right?"
Lann teased Henrik with a light-hearted jab, effortlessly flicking the filth off the Lady of the Lake’s Sword, which disappeared instantly. Then, he sheathed the sword.
"Even residents in such remote areas have turned beastly... This night of hunting is truly terrifying."
Henrik ignored the young man’s previous taunt, recognizing it as sarcasm over his appraisal of the blade.
But he was long past the age of sparring verbally with the young.
Therefore, he only explained the latter half of Lann’s sentiment.
"The connection between the Forbidden Forest and Yan’an hasn’t severed. The beastly disease among local residents isn’t surprising."
"Hmm?" Lann raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean? Are you suggesting the password isn’t cryptic?"
Henrik waved his hand: "It’s not about the password, it’s about survival. You don’t expect local residents to live off hunting and gathering in the forest? Byron Vis and Yan’an officially severed ties, but common people still have to make a living."
Lann rubbed his chin, pondering this near-nightmarish scenario where almost everyone was engulfed in madness as the world seemed to end, discussing ’making money, eating’ with an Old Hunter amidst pools of blood.
This even made Lann feel a sense of surrealism.
"Are you suggesting they smuggle?"
"There must be a smuggling route; otherwise, how would so many people have lived? But those routes are likely known only to locals, yet on this night, the first to perish are those informed ordinary people. Hunters like us can only honestly search for passwords."
The two didn’t dwell on these matters for too long.
No matter what kind of shady dealings the Forbidden Forest locals had with Yan’an, it was all part of societal structures.
But on this night, all social structures were torn apart by endless beastliness.
Henrik continued to lead Lann forward.
The Forbidden Forest locals had established a rugged and chaotic small settlement within the woods.
This settlement featured grimy grounds, dilapidated houses, and dizzying uneven terrain... Though not large, it was easy to get lost.
But these weren’t the primary concerns.
The main issue was—the beastly locals were surprisingly well-equipped!
Gunfire erupted as the rifle muzzle spat flames.
Immediately, Aron Dite, held in front of Lann’s face, rang with the sound of metal struck.
The hand beneath the studded leather glove felt the hilt vibrating, the bullet’s power far surpassing the ordinary firearms of Yan City!
It almost forced Aron Dite into Lann’s face!
The Demon Hunter decisively rolled aside to the rear of a dirt mound as three shooters atop a distant wooden house fired another round before stopping.
"What did you just do?"
Henrik, eyes wide with surprise between hat and mask, stared at Lann.
But the young man was equally astonished at his slightly numb hand from blocking a bullet, still puzzled.
Henrik, now hiding behind the dirt mound, gesticulated rapidly, appearing very excited.
"You just blocked a bullet! With your knife!"
His tone was as if witnessing pigs fly—a ridiculous sight.
Lann thought Henrik’s words pointless. Wouldn’t you block such an obvious gunshot line?
"Rather than that, why don’t you explain why their bullets are so potent?"
To Lann, using a sword to block a slow and obvious bullet was normal.
But a group of beastly people wielding similar guns, firing bullets of such different force, was abnormal!
"That’s blood marrow ash! Spit!"
Another bullet hit the dirt mound, splattering mud onto Henrik’s mask side, triggering his instinctive reaction.
"Greatly enhances the power of mercury bullets, reportedly refined from corpses. I don’t know why they have so much!"
The gunfire from the rooftop shooters aroused the beastly people inside the house; they wielded various tools and, led by beastly roars, charged towards the mound.
Even an experienced Old Hunter like Henrik would avoid encumbering themselves in a one-on-many combat scenario.
He intended to pop up, using the Hunter’s Pistol to take down one or two. But as soon as his hat emerged from the mound, ’bang bang bang’ fired three marrow ash-enriched mercury bullets, blasting three holes in his mound.
Tactically, this was a simple long-range short-range coordination.
"Playing tactics, huh?"
Lann licked his lips, bracing himself against the mound to half-rise.
Henrik shielded his head with his arm against the dirt saw this. Googlᴇ search nοvelfire.net
"What are you doing? If you want to reach the rooftop, the ladder is behind this wooden house—"
His sentence was interrupted as he saw the young man dart out like an arrow along the ground.
White spiraling streams swirled around his legs—the hallmark of [Acceleration Technique]. His speed, far exceeding typical patients, let him sidestep the charging beastly patients.
The three-meter-high wooden rooftop was swiftly reached as he touched the edge effortlessly.
The motion capabilities and self-weight produced a clear visual conflict, the hem of Bear School Armor’s skirt flared in a full arc.
Lann grabbed the edge with one hand, vaulting onto the rooftop!