Lann and Bordeaux's encounter was an accident.
Or rather, his arrival in this magical medieval setting was an accident.
A college student, with both parents healthy, and he himself growing up mentally and physically sound.
After inexplicably crossing the endless void, he came to a barbaric and dark world, which defies logic.
There is magic here, but it has not developed prosperously, at least not to the level of influencing societal progress.
Thus, in the backward social context, human life is as insignificant as grass.
In the woods of Velen, as soon as a human dares to venture a few dozen meters inside, the shadow of death has already latched onto their body.
Starvation, death from illness, being killed by wild beasts or monsters, or simply being bitten by some unknown insect and poisoned to death... The Velen people have mostly become numb to the death around them.
Modern college students have only heard sparse tales of ancient life from history books.
He knows that, apart from magic and monsters, the life of Velen people resembles that of ancient common folk.
But knowing is one thing; when such brutal and heavy life, long since departed from him, is laid out vividly before him, it's hard for him to accept.
Death... is too common.
As a great literary figure once said, it's an era where "people wish to be dogs but can't".
And whether it is fortune or misfortune, Lann cannot become a commoner.
—He became Bordeaux's "accidental son".
He was "made" into the same kind, a Demon Hunter.
The "law of accident" is an unwritten law commonly recognized and adhered to in this world.
Its origin is as ancient as human history.
Its content is: The one who saves others can, according to the law of accident, request compensation from the one saved, asking for the first thing the saved person sees upon returning home, or something the saved person doesn't know they own but already possess—usually a child born when the saved person left home, such a child is called an "accidental son".
Even in a magical, medieval style, supernatural forces are still scarce resources.
Having the opportunity to grasp supernatural power should be a fortunate occurrence for a modern college student terrified by the cruel survival environment.
But...
"What is our target this time?"
Lann, with a refined face belonging to an Asian, observes his surroundings, carefully guiding his old horse to avoid a section of tree trunk, walking at Bordeaux's front flank.
This man, hairy like a grizzly bear, wouldn't let him stay out of sight for long.
His thick beard splits in the middle, revealing Bordeaux's lips.
"Maybe it's two or three gathered Little Fog Demons, or one Fog Demon old enough. The area and magic power of that fog fall within this range."
"You can't even determine the number? This preparation is just too..."
Lann's body didn't show any emotional fluctuations, but the face Bordeaux couldn't see had slightly furrowed brows.
Demon Hunters are stronger than ordinary people, but just speaking in terms of basic qualities, they basically can't surpass the combined strength of five ordinary people.
Demon Hunters are bold enough to hunt monsters because of their skills, knowledge, and most importantly—experience.
Accurately investigating the type and number of prey from subtle clues, using their knowledge reserves to know the prey's abilities and weaknesses, and then after thorough preparation, engaging in "asymmetrical combat".
This is the way Demon Hunters operate.
If Bordeaux's pre-war preparation was at this level, he wouldn't have had the chance to grow such a thick beard.
Back when he was just a young man, he should have died in some barren land!
Lann's inner thoughts actually already had an answer to this.
An icy gaze climbed up Lann's spine, accompanied by a voice as cold as that gaze.
"You take the lead, use Quen well."
Not a negotiation, but a command.
Demon Hunters from the Bear School are generally devoid of emotions, thus losing even the most basic verbal concealment when sending someone to their death.
Lann nodded blandly.
... If he were not being used as cannon fodder to save hunting costs, he might have been grateful for possessing these cat-like eyes.
And right beside the field path they just passed.
The farmer who narrowly escaped death bowed humbly, pointing at a pool of blood in his field to four soldiers wearing Temeria-styled armor.
That was left by his loyal house dog.
The farmer rambled on, the soldiers grew impatient, the iron gauntlet raised in the air, as if it might hammer down on the farmer's face the next second.
After a few scolding words, the farmer pointed in one direction.
The four soldiers looked toward that direction, tilted their heads, and spat a thick phlegm, cursing and scrambling onto their horses.
~~~~~~
Because of some matters, Bordeaux is now wanted by the lord of Velen.
But considering the law enforcement standards equivalent to the Middle Ages, it is imaginable that although the Demon Hunter intended to hide his traces, when it came to the hunting tasks involving food and expenses, he didn't plan to stop.
And... he didn't even intend to pay any "cost" for hunting!
Lann and Bordeaux were already standing before a depression formed by a small hillside.
In that depression lay a faintly visible heap of scattered stones.
The reason it's faintly visible is due to a layer of yellowish-green fog, abruptly covering a large piece of land.
The wind doesn't move it, and the vapor doesn't settle.
Lann glanced at the Roaring Bear Head Necklace on Bordeaux's neck, the intricate bear head slightly trembling.
It sensed the magic power within the fog.
Judging by the degree of tremor, the magic power is not particularly strong.
His stomach growled with hunger, but Lann continued to earnestly warm up his body.
The loyal dog had already finished eating, and Bordeaux left him a dog's head.
There wasn't much meat, but Lann had adapted.
The man didn't maliciously make Lann go hungry, in fact, he couldn't derive pleasure from evil deeds.
But... for someone with no emotional hormone secretion, you can't expect him to care much about his "tool".
Bordeaux didn't want Lann to go hungry, but he also didn't care whether Lann was full or not.
The Demon Hunter's endurance is strong, hence he can endure hunger well.
During Lann's warm-up, he didn't see Bordeaux taking any potion from the potion bag, nor did he see him applying sword oil to the two swords on his back.
Generally speaking, both of these could significantly enhance a Demon Hunter's advantage over monsters.
Aside from being expensive and toxic, they had almost no disadvantages.
As the main force, Bordeaux clearly didn't wish to spend the money this time.
Thus, as the vanguard and scout, Lann had to bear the risk for Bordeaux's frugality.
This was precisely Bordeaux's "usage" of him.
"Now, forward."
Having tied up the horses, the bearded man drew one of the two swords from his back amid a low metallic scraping sound.
A half-sword flashing with icy silver light.
The look in his eyes, as he watched Lann's back, matched the temperature of the sword's glow.
That was a kind of ice-cold without a single ripple.
In front of the young man were countless Fog Demons, the number and strength unknown.
It or they could generate fog, become invisible, and smarter ones could even shape the fog into illusions.
This gray-white-skinned humanoid scavenging monster had sharp claws, and with their scrawny limbs swinging, could swipe off a dog's or a sheep's head; cotton armor in front of them would tear like paper.
An ordinary farmer, even when highly alert, would have his stomach slashed open in five seconds, intestines spilling everywhere.
Not to mention, these monsters had abilities suited for precise ambush.
Behind the young man was a Demon Hunter who had hunted countless monsters, wearing armor weighing at least thirty kilograms, moving with ease, drawing the silver sword from behind him.
Silver could restrain monsters, its nature soft. But it was an iron core wrapped in a silver blade, slicing people wouldn't be a problem.
Lann seemed to have no feeling at all, his delicate face really appearing devoid of emotion, unmoving.
He just tightened his cotton armor again, his eyes lifelessly gazing at the void.
On his retina was a clear and concise map.
"Name: Lann
Race: Demon Hunter (Magic Altered Human)
Skills: Bear School Swordsmanship (Training plan initiated. Under guidance—interrupted. Reason: Computation power insufficient)
Magic Potion Knowledge (Recording. Formulation guidance—interrupted. Reason: Computation power insufficient)
Quen Rune (Training plan [Beginner] initiated. Under guidance—interrupted. Reason: Computation power insufficient)
..."
Vital knowledge concerning the Demon Hunter's life was listed item by item.
Swordsmanship, magic potion, magic seal... yet ultimately, marked in bold were the four words, "Computation power insufficient".
And above a series of "computation power insufficient" marks, very clearly marked were arrows indicating the destination of this precious computation power.
It was an almost complete progress bar marked with "Parsing" in bright red.
The gaze from behind grew colder, Lann remained unmoved, using his mind to shut down the projection on his retina.
Time to get to work.