Astartes of the Bear School

Chapter 420 419. Bleeding

"My apologies again, Regis."

As Lan spoke, he led Poppy and followed Regis, walking forward through the large tombstones.

"But I have to say that the appearance of a barber doctor in this cemetery is a bit beyond my expectations."

At this time, the full moon has risen high in the sky, and the mist that was originally turned into a yellowish color by the light of the setting sun has now turned into a cold white color.

Poppy was stimulated by the smell of sage on Regis's body, and now he was a little reluctant to follow. So Lan En could only struggle with the mount.

He didn't want to use [Yaxi Seal] at this time. Again, the aura of magic can frighten 99% of the people in this world.

"Aren't you afraid of ghouls, or tomb banshees? Those things like cemeteries."

Lan asked curiously.

Although Regis was dressed like a country tax collector, his unhurried tone and exquisite grammar suggested that he was from a noble family with a long history.

"Don't worry about it, sir. This cemetery has a history of more than five hundred years. Ghouls and tomb banshees are never picky eaters, but they are also meat eaters. A pile of bones that have been there for more than five hundred years will not attract them. They. So there are countless tombstones here, but there are no monsters."

"Oh." Lan En smiled slightly awkwardly. "I'm really not familiar with this place."

In fact, when he first entered the cemetery, he should have been able to smell whether there were any scavenging monsters nearby.

But the herbal smell on Regis was too strange and too strong.

It's almost impossible to smell anything else around him.

At first, Lan En thought that his herbal smell was probably to cover up the stench of corpses.

The witcher thought the barber doctor was a pioneer of that kind.

In the ignorant era of medicine, the profession of doctors was often performed concurrently by barbers.

Because they also use knives to cut people, but they don't make people unable to get up like butchers. This skill of playing with knives is the basis for their wide recognition as doctors.

In the process of pursuing human medicine, there must always be objects for experimentation and learning, that is, cadavers.

In the early London and Paris of Lane's home world, most of the stolen goods from corpse robberies would be sold to these barber doctors for research.

But when he walked into the cemetery, Lan En immediately discovered that it was indeed as Regis said: it had been a cemetery for more than five hundred years.

There is no fresh human tissue in these cemeteries, just a lot of bones.

Human tissue culture has begun in the magic academy, but normal folk medicine is still looking for corpses. The degree of fragmentation in this world is evident.

The two of them quickly walked through the cemetery and came to a small wooden house.

Regis said politely as he opened the door.

"Please come in. This place is not big, but at least it allows you to spend the night without the sky above your head. There is a spring next to it, and there is a stove in the house, so you can have a hot bite. Do you need me to order some dinner?"

"No, don't bother. I brought dry food. All I need is hot water."

Lan En thanked Regis for his enthusiasm, then lowered his head and entered the house.

The interior of the cabin was dark and filled with a warm, intoxicating aroma that tickled your nose—primarily from the bundles of herbs and roots hanging on the four walls. There was not much furniture in the room, including a small bed of simple style, also filled with herbs, and an old table with countless glassware, pottery and porcelain bottles on it.

A strange round-bellied stove, shaped like a bloated hourglass, burned coals and provided a faint light for the room. Surrounding the furnace is a spiderweb of gleaming glass tubes of varying sizes, bent into arcs and spirals. A wooden bucket was placed under one of the glass tubes, and some liquid was dripping into the bucket.

Although the shape has changed, Lan En's knowledge still allowed him to recognize the glass instrument combination in front of him at the first sight.

"Did you customize the brewing furnace, still, and condenser tube yourself?"

Lan En looked at it with interest.

In this era, there were no international standards to specify what glassware used in experiments should look like. It was entirely up to the user to communicate with the glassmaker to get the equipment they wanted.

Inconsistency in form is natural.

"Of course." Emile Regis admitted humbly, "My job includes making elixirs, so I must distill the mandrake root and extract the fifth element."

"Wow." The young man couldn't help but nod, "This kind of work is very skilled for a barber doctor. The business where you open your shop must be good."

"My store is in Dillingen." Regis said simply, his voice had a calm and quiet magnetism.

"It's true that business is good, but I also know very well what makes this business good, so I take a few months every year to collect mandrake roots at Finn Kahn Cemetery."

Regis took the opportunity to explain the reason why he had a foothold next to this large cemetery.

For the first time, Lan En learned that the name of the place here was Fen Kahn.

This name sounds like it comes from the Elvish language, so it's clear who is buried here.

When humans came to this world, they caused many massacres.

"Can I...?" Lan En pointed to the small stove under the still and asked tentatively.

"Ah, of course, please do so. The things inside don't have to be heated all the time."

Regis said quickly. While talking, as the owner of the cabin, he also took the initiative to help Lan En remove the small stove.

So the witcher was able to get busy with his own hot meal.

Regis gave him an iron pot, and Lan scooped a pot of water from the spring next to the house.

Then put your own special dry food into the water, put it on the stove, and wait for the hard lumps containing ceramic compounds to soften and turn into porridge.

Regis seemed to be a very hospitable man. He not only worked with Lan En, but also added fuel to the stove for him.

"Huh, as you can see." After the two of them got busy, Regis breathed out and sat on the ground with his hands spread out.

"My own bed has been given over to medicinal herbs, and I usually sleep on the floor. Do you mind if the room where you sleep is filled with the smell of medicinal herbs?"

"Nothing. A person who travels far away can have a shelter from the wind. What else can I ask for? Thank you again for the invitation, Regis."

"You're welcome. If you turn a blind eye to the people who need help when you go out, you deserve to be struck by lightning."

The flame in the stove was the only source of light in the room.

And when the pot of boiling water was pressed on the stove, the light and shadow of the flame swayed and dimmed.

Lan En was playing with the iron pot, but it seemed that he was scratched by the gap caused by poor preservation of the iron pot, and he suddenly retracted his hand.

Regis's eyes flashed: "Ah, please be careful. This pot is quite old. Except for the bottom of the pot, it is probably broken. Do you need a bandage?"

With that said, Regis was about to get up and go over.

But Lan En waved his hand.

Blood spilled onto the ground as he waved his hand, and several bright red dots appeared.

"No, it's nothing, Regis. I want to know one thing more than this small hole."

"What?"

Regis's shining eyes lowered at this question.

Lan En whispered his question: "How long has it been since you sucked blood?"

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