But in fact, she hadn't even taken over the tribe's affairs. She was rely being trained as a successor. What could she have done at that ti?
She couldn't decide anything.
In Lance's view, she was simply overthinking things.
Won are such trouble.
It had to be said that Lance had grasped Grendel's psyche. With a single sentence, he had resolved the complex tangle of emotions in her heart.
"Hmm..." Grendel's expression also eased. Once her line of thinking cleared, she seed quite normal.
"How is the Ascension Potion progressing?"
Thinking idly during work hours, Lance felt she was still too idle. He needed to bring her attention back to work.
"Actually, the Witch's notes contain the original formula for the Ascension Potion. These Heretics have added so things I don't understand and changed the steps. However, I have completed its optimization to make the effects gentler. Also, the preliminary batch of the finished product is already out."
"What about the output? The cost?"
"We still need to wait for Miss Parla to complete the tests to determine the ratio of the Potion's potency and concentration. However, producing one batch of the Potion should cost about seventy Gold Coins for materials."
Lance felt a headache coming on when he heard this. Seventy Gold Coins—those were Gold Coins!
No wonder Alchemy and Potion-making were only for the rich. It was fortunate Grendel ca with max-level Abilities. Otherwise, if he had to train soone from scratch, his fortune couldn't withstand such a strain.
"What about leprosy? How is that situation?"
"I have the treatnt plan ready too. I was just about to tell you..."
At night, Lance entered the sanatorium.
Walking through the pitch-black corridors, a chilling wind from the vents blew past him. It carried the delirious mutterings of the Heretics, making the atmosphere even more terrifying.
The sanatorium of Hamlet served not only as a dical research facility but also functioned as a prison.
Those thick iron doors and airtight brick walls provided them with a sense of security.
Yes, that door was there to protect them. Once you are in the sanatorium, whether you get out whole depends on the situation.
In the past, the sanatorium didn't have so many people. But with the developnt of Hamlet, it had beco busier. Most of the occupants were Heretics, as ordinary people didn't have the privilege to be admitted.
He rarely ca to this place before, where the managent was also quite lax. As long as one didn't die, it was fine.
This ti, he was looking for a very special person, or rather, a captive.
Unlike the others, these key captives were kept in the cells of the sanatorium.
"SCREECH! SCREECH!"
Suddenly, there was a strange cry. This inexplicable noise could scare soone to death.
But his steps didn't falter in the slightest. His composure remained undisturbed as his firm footsteps echoed in the dim corridor.
Only when he got closer did he see that the Hawk was locked in a wire cage. The commotion just now was its reaction to soone approaching.
Yet Lance only glanced at it. The Hawk, which had just been screeching and crashing against the cage, instantly fell silent and cowered. If it hadn't been in the cage, it would have already taken flight.
Lance couldn't care less about a bird, and he directly opened the iron door next to the birdcage.
The mont Lance stepped into the gloom, a fierce attack struck out at him. It was like an owl that had waited in the darkness for a long ti, swooping down on a mouse that had just shown its head outside its hole, extending its sharp claws.
Unfortunately, this was not a mouse but a tiger strolling through the forest. With a casual swipe of its paw, it tore through the tense atmosphere.
Before the attack hit him, Lance had already caught the attacker's neck with a swift hand, effortlessly restraining them, and pulling them close to his face.
Lance t the gaze of a distinctive pair of eyes that had erged from the darkness, and in the next second, he released the person with a laugh.
"Stop ssing around."
The attacker had no chance to resist under that terrifying power and, once released, imdiately slipped back into the darkness.
It wasn't until Lance produced a candelabrum that the figure beca visible in the faint firelight.
It was Laura, a mber of Eagle Flock.
Gone was her green robe. Now, she was clad in a hemp suit produced in Hamlet, which made her entire figure stand out.
She was slender, but her appearance didn't look sickly. Instead, she exuded a sense of lightness and agility.
It was hard to believe that those thin arms could draw a bowstring repeatedly, and even if it was a light bow, shooting three arrows in a row was quite difficult.
Lance had always found her features a bit odd, and now it seed his observation was indeed correct.
Her features were sharp, but those piercing eyes were particularly bright, giving her a sowhat hawkish appearance.
Lance's gaze made her feel threatened, prompting her to cry out.
"Just kill , I won't surrender!"
"You haven't joined the battlefield, so why would I kill you? We in Hamlet are not unreasonable," Lance said, regaining his composure as he tossed a bundle to her. "Take this. The investigation is over. I've co to let you out."
Laura instinctively caught the bundle and realized it was her green robe, with all her possessions inside, Dagger and Short Bow included. Nothing was missing.
She was caught off guard. She had been ready to face death, but this...
"Hurry up and change. That suit belongs to Hamlet; you can't take it with you," Lance said, turning and walking out of the cell.
Laura, not understanding what had happened, gripped her Dagger tightly and couldn't help but look at his retreating figure. The fleeting impulse to attack was instantly dispelled by the overpowering image of his invincible form that lood in her mind, causing her body to tremble instinctively.
Without much thought, she quickly changed into her clothes, donned her gear, and stepped out.
"Wait a second."
She had only just stepped out when she was called to a halt, sending a chill up her spine. Her muscles tensed as she swiftly turned her head to look at Lance. Her movent made her appear even more peculiar.
"Your bird." Lance chuckled at her nervous expression and gestured with his head, pointing to the birdcage hanging nearby.
Only then did Laura breathe a sigh of relief, but she could feel her back drenched in sweat, and her heart continued to pound uncontrollably.
After a mont's pause, she went to open the birdcage and placed the weakened Hawk inside her robe. It had lost quite a few feathers after being cooped up for several days, and she couldn't help but feel sorry for the bird she had raised from a chick.
"What if they find out it was you who leaked the whereabouts of the Order of Knights? What do you think will happen?"
Lance stood in the shadows. His smile was dark and eerie, and his words were chilling, instantly deepening the haggard look of distress on her face.
Laura fell silent, looking at Lance with a complicated gaze. She knew this situation wasn't as simple as it seed.
"Don't worry. Few people know you were caught, and those Knights are even less inford. As long as I don't talk and you don't, no one will know," Lance reassured her, though his words sounded more like a veiled threat.
"What do you want?"
"Don't be nervous. You didn't take part in the war; on the contrary, you helped locate those Knights. I am a reasonable man." Lance's casual smile remained, as did his easy-going attitude. "You don't need to do anything. Just go back and tell Count Bastia that you saw those Knights being captured by . That's all."
He didn't coerce her into doing sothing difficult. He simply gave her a request so simple it could hardly be considered a demand.
This transparent young woman, with her heart on her sleeve, wouldn't fool old Bastia. Better to keep it straightforward.
Laura was sowhat incredulous to hear this, but she had no ti for doubts now. She just wanted to get away from this place as soon as possible.
"Co with . There are sheriffs patrolling at night, and the army has overt and covert sentries around the periter. Without leading you, you can't hope to get out."
She obediently followed behind him, her paranoid deanor resembling a startled sparrow rather than a bird of prey.
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