When Rann arrived on land from Black Tern Island on Lake Vigema, he received more attention than he had ever seen before.

With a height of two meters and six meters after wearing armor, this is really a spectacle.

But although this kind of gaze was normal in Lan En's heart, there was still a strange feeling that permeated the witcher's heart.

Is it the atmosphere?

The dark clouds and cold winds in the sky made everything look gloomy, and the villagers of the dark water walked in a hurry, without their usual laziness and leisure.

Their eyes were cautious and sensitive, and even these fishermen, who had been able to sit on the dock last time and bargain with Lan En in the rotten vernacular, now only dared to sweep their eyes towards Lan En, and then quickly buried their heads and walked away.

They are panicking.

Lan En could smell fear in the air.

But the panic didn't burst, it wasn't like a bunch of arrogant bandits entrenched outside the village, ready to rush in and kill all sides, and then laugh and tear off their wives and daughters' skirts.

This is the capital of Temeria, a suburb of Vijma, and it is unlikely that this will happen in the first place.

This fear is more like being in an unstable environment, stuck in a quagmire, unable to get out, and even not knowing where to get out.

Fear is mixed with powerlessness and confusion, and there is a bit of frustration of breaking the jar.

Lan En frowned.

It's a familiar feeling.

He had traveled and lived in Willen, and when he first came to this world, he was in the mud pit of Temeria.

That's the kind of sentiment that pervades the people there.

But as his range of activities became wider and wider, even extending to other worlds, he gradually forgot about this mood and atmosphere.

And now, this kind of atmosphere that makes people feel stuffy in the chest has re-permeated his surroundings.

It's still a tavern in the village of Dark Waters.

Ryan walked in with his head down, his body casting a huge shadow in the light of the candles.

This made the villagers in the tavern who were drunk in broad daylight, even when they were not in a state of clear mind, instinctively shrink back and lower their voices.

"Have a drink, be strong."

The bartender looked up listlessly, and then was stunned: "Sir?!" ”

"Yes, it's me." Lan lifted the hood covering his silver hair slightly with his fingers. "Can we bring the vodka first and then talk?"

Although his figure is already very conspicuous, it is a little bit to be able to block a little.

The bottle was brought up, and the bartender held a small wooden cup with a tiger's mouth, and looked at Lan En's large hand, which was obviously over-specified.

After a stunned blink, he replaced the large wooden cup that ordinary people use to drink beer and poured it for Lanen.

This gentleman is not short of money, so he does not have to serve these villagers when he pours wine, and the slightest lack of filling can cause a scolding war.

Holding a wine glass in his hand, this is a sign that you have entered small talk mode in the tavern.

"I think it's been a lot of tension lately, do you know what's going on?"

Rann first took a sip of rye vodka, which was clearly superior to the brewing technique of ancient Greece, allowing the high alcohol to explode hot in his esophagus.

He asked casually on the surface, but the cat's eye under the hood was observing the every move of everyone around him.

"You know, I've just come back from a long trip. Everyone's emotions baffle me. ”

The bartender was visibly stunned for a moment, then picked up the bottle with a wry smile and added a little more to the glass that Lan En had just put down.

The service industry staff should always have a warm and welcoming tone, otherwise it is not good to earn Oren from the arms of a picky drunkard, and this bartender has had a lot of impressions of Lan En before.

And now, his voice was dry and hard.

It's like having to stuff a handful of sand into your mouth.

"The war has begun, sir."

Lan's hand holding the glass paused, undetectable.

Then he continued to drink as if nothing had happened.

"Isn't this something that has been reported for a long time? Everyone has been rumoring it for hundreds of years. ”

"Yes, rumors but no one knows that Southerners are so, so powerful!"

"How powerful? Did they fight any good fights? ”

"The Battle of Manada."

The bartender said almost reflexively that he had heard the news many times.

"It's the one south of Sintra, you know? The Sintraites brought all their capable boys over, and they were Sintra! Compared to the pirates of the Skelly Islands, they don't know who is more ferocious! ”

"The result? It's over in one day! Just one day! The Nilfgaard have annihilated the Sintra forces! Not an exaggeration, if I tell half a lie, let the plague take me away! ”

The main forces of Sintra were completely annihilated.

As the news reached Lan's ears, a series of images flashed through his mind.

The lively little girl with gray hair in the forest, the noble but helpless queen who sat on a swing at sunset, and the milk-white haired witcher who was inseparable from their fate.

The hand holding the wine glass stopped in mid-air, and the bartender looked at this scene suspiciously, and called tentatively: "Sir? ”

Rann sighed, threw his head back, drank the full cup of rye vodka, and slapped ten golden Oren coins on the table.

"Thank you for the news, it's money for drinks and taking care of the horses."

With that, the witcher stood up and turned to walk out of the tavern.

The bartender wiped his hand on the black, shiny cloth on his shoulder, then pulled the Oren coin on the table to his side and dropped it into the open drawer.

As the witcher was about to walk out of the tavern, the bartender's mouth opened and he called out to him.

"Sir!"

Amid the creaking of the wooden door, Lan En had just opened the slit. He stood there holding the door, turning his head back in confusion.

"Are you okay?"

The bartender took a few deep breaths violently, then stumbled as he clutched the rag in his palm.

"I—My name is Gattis, sir!"

Lan En was stunned for a moment, and then he realized that he didn't seem to know the name of the bartender who had received him many times.

"Hello, Gattis."

Out of politeness, Lan greeted him.

"But why?"

Why introduce yourself at this time?

"I can't tell, sir."

Gattis, who seemed to breathe a sigh of relief after saying his name to Lanne, became relaxed and wiped his glass with ease.

As always.

"I just think the world is going to be in chaos."

He said calmly, almost numb.

"You're a big man I've rarely come into contact with, sir. Maybe. Maybe I just want others to know my name, before I die. ”

Lan En was stunned for a moment, then pursed the corner of his mouth under the hood.

"Maybe you can introduce everyone who comes to your tavern for a drink in the future."

"Ha, that's good advice, I'll listen to you. Thanks for the suggestion, sir. ”

"Just call me Lanne, Gatis. Live well. ”

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(End of chapter)