Bear School Astartes

Chapter 1027 - 1009: True Faith

Facing Lann’s surprise and disbelief, Shapeler appeared very natural and composed.

If a person truly believes in something, there’s nothing to hide about it.

"Eternal Fire."

Shapeler said calmly.

"Since you’ve come to Novigrad, you must know about the Eternal Fire, Your Grace the Duke. It is the flame that never extinguishes, the symbol of indomitable spirit, the bright path leading us through endless darkness."

"Eternal Fire, Your Grace, is the hope for all of us. Because everyone—including you, me, any other race—has hope. I firmly believe this."

He didn’t sound like the usual Eternal Fire missionaries, who are passionate and emotional, as if saying the words ’Eternal Fire’ without a loud voice would be blasphemy or disrespect.

But in this calm tone, there was an inherent piety and faith.

Lann blinked in doubt and amazement.

This was truly dramatic, even more so than the drama being rehearsed on stage.

Shapeler, the notorious villain of Novigrad known by all.

He plots conspiracies, exercises violence, extorts merchants and guilds, abuses torture... Almost no one would think he’s a true believer, that faith is just a ladder he uses to climb up.

But after the real Shapeler died, a Shapeshifter, a creature meant to be exterminated by humans according to the teachings of the Eternal Fire, a creature destined for the stake upon appearance, replaced him and genuinely believed in the Eternal Fire.

Though he should believe in some of the positive aspects of the Eternal Fire’s teachings and not the entirety, it was still enough to make Lann feel absurd.

"But you should already know that someone within the Temple Guard has started to doubt your identity."

Lann scratched his cheek under his hood, reluctantly accepting the absurdity of reality.

"You really have... become the last person who should have faith in the Eternal Fire."

"There’s no such thing as should or shouldn’t." Shapeler said calmly, as if the malicious intentions aiming to find his flaws and then pull him down to devour him didn’t exist.

"Faith always springs from the heart, appearing suddenly and coming to enlightenment inexplicably."

"Do you need my help? As long as you arrange for those few to go on a field task outside the city, then give me the route..."

Lann made a downward chopping gesture with his hand towards Shapeler.

Shapeler shook his head.

"No need, and you can’t kill them all, Your Grace the Duke. Surely you know this better than I do."

"As long as someone wants to join the Temple Guard, there will be those wanting to climb up, or make big profits through their identity. And those wanting to climb up, or break my years of restraint to increase profit margin, will definitely try to topple me."

"For those wanting to topple me, I’m full of flaws, unable to withstand any scrutiny."

Lann shrugged, his suggestion earlier was just a polite offer.

He had seen these things clearly the moment he knew Shapeler’s identity.

"Speaking of which, I’m grateful you left me a way out for my livelihood in Novigrad."

Shapeler expressed gratitude to Lann, who accepted it straightforwardly.

"Humans have reconciled with dwarves, half-elves, gnomes, and elves, yet still categorize us as monsters."

Saying this, Shapeler rarely showed some emotional downturn.

"Humans even integrated with some of these races..."

"Is there something we lack compared to them, or is it that plump white thighs, large chests bursting shirts at the buttons, are the entry ticket to living in the human world?"

"But anyway, we have to live. We used to struggle for survival in the wilds, but now, we want to enjoy the convenience of the city, to live in the city."

Lann was slightly silent, then asked.

"Even if it’s weaving wicker baskets, begging, stealing in the city?"

"Yes, even to do those. Or to do business, to run errands, I can do whatever humans can do. Who knows, maybe I could even get married?"

"If you go live by the cape alone for a while," Shapeler said, "eating only roots, getting drenched to the bone, and freezing half to death every day, you’d understand."

"...Sir, our lives also have pursuits. Even if on the path of pursuit we might encounter death."

"I understand."

Lann sighed and nodded, in these days few can live peacefully, let alone live as they wish.

"As agreed, if you feel danger, then withdraw in time."

"I will, I will..." Shapeler said, gazing dreamily at the city.

"But I still want to strive a bit longer, there are nineteen Eternal Fire temples in this city, the nearest one even just a stone’s throw away from us... The Temple Guards of the Eternal Fire shouldn’t always be doing filthy things, should they?"

People with true faith are always thinking, just a little more effort, just a little longer perseverance.

Lann did not agree with the majority of the Eternal Fire’s teachings, but he knew that people like Shapeler could not be persuaded.

-----------------

The actors’ rehearsals gradually came to a halt, and the chaos and disorder on the stage were cleaned up by backstage staff and props were set up.

Rows of bench seats began to fill with people as the audience arrived.

The crowd was growing bigger and bigger as the show approached its start time.

The Sea Parrot team’s promotional efforts were effective; they performed for free at the docks, streets, and markets, distributing flyers for the show.

Meanwhile, the Skellige sailors invited by Geralt swaggered in like bandits.

The men from these high-latitude islands are said to be sailors, but everyone knows that any normal Skellige man definitely started his career as a pirate.

Most of them wore jackets made of seal, walrus, or bear skin, tight pants, with swords or axes hung at their waists, and their open chests often bore Skellige-style tattoos. Sometimes, they even wore a sheathed dagger around their necks like a necklace.

Having these people maintain order perfectly utilized the continent’s fear of Skellige islanders.

Even without lifting a finger, they carried a presence of intimidation.

Children with runny noses sat restlessly as if they had pins in their seats, under the guidance of their parents.

The Irena Theater Group’s ticket prices were not high-end, suitable even for street vendors to come and relax for a while.

Soon, the muddy ground of the slaughterhouse was filled with people, and those without seats simply stood by the slaughterhouse wall.

The troupe’s vendor walked through the mud, carrying a wooden box on his chest, weaving through the audience with both hands supporting the box.

As he walked, he hawked roasted apples, sandwiches, and similar items.

Influenced by the troupe’s atmosphere, his voice even carried a tune.

The matters that needed discussion had already been discussed, and neither Shapeler nor Lann spoke much further, seeming to be immersed in the atmosphere as they watched the stage with the curtain drawn.

Lann had never seen a medieval play, so he was quite eager.

An announcer dressed in a vibrant top and leg-hugging pants first took the stage.

"Lovely ladies! Honorable gentlemen! Noble citizens of the supreme Holy City, Novigrad! Welcome to you all."

His voice was full of cadence, and as soon as he spoke, he drew the attention of the previously chaotic audience.

As he spoke, he made gestures reminiscent of those in oil paintings, exclaiming and praising, appearing very exaggerated.

But this was precisely the aesthetic standard of the era.

Thus, the audience visibly grew excited and anticipatory.

"We are here to witness a great comedy!"

"Indeed! This is a brand-new masterpiece by the renowned poet Master Dandelion and the lady minstrel Priscilla! Master Dandelion promises, as witness and narrator, to deliver a compelling story to Novigrad’s audience!"

"And it’s a story that has become familiar to everyone recently, as countless scholars are studying it, countless minstrels narrate it—a tale of the evil Southern Empire that, after destroying Sintra, was heroically intercepted by the Northern Alliance Army in the Sodden Region!"

The announcer behaved as if narrating a children’s story; his expressions and gestures were highly exaggerated, but in this era, it was perfectly apt.

Among the audience were not just humans, but dwarves and others, and Vivaldi Bank joined the publicity at Dudu’s request.

They even distributed tickets to their employees.

The bank’s support for its important customers was notable.

Thus, several sturdy dwarves occupied multiple benches, their short, thick legs dangling in the air, unable to reach the ground, swaying in excitement and anticipation.

"The play is titled: ’Crushed Sunwheel’! We will narrate a thrilling journey of the key character and soul of that great war!"

"The cast includes: Catherine as the helpless civilian! Leo Ribi as the Niflgaard black dog! And starring as the hero granted the title of Duke in the war is..."

The announcer deliberately elongated his tone, building anticipation among the audience.

"Novigrad’s seasoned actor, Ebola Riza!"

Apparently, this actor had quite the reputation in Novigrad, as Lann could hear quite a few women cheering from around his seat.

"We also have a female lead, portrayed by the stunning and seasoned Lady Irena as the Great Mage! Ms. Tishaya de Veris!"

This time it was the men who released unseemly whistles.

As the sky darkened, the troupe pulled multiple lines across the open-air space of the slaughterhouse, hanging lanterns for lighting and plenty of colorful banners.

Actors took to the stage one by one, allowing the audience to identify the characters.

Although each person’s entrance garnered cheers and applause, it was only the leading man...