Our Family Has Fallen

Reynard didn’t care whether the young man understood him or not and turned away to leave.

This was just a minor episode. Dismas couldn’t be bothered with those scavengers anymore and instead turned his attention to the trembling looters, his face breaking into a cruel smile as he shouted.

"All of you, get up! Either stay here with him, or go back to Hamlet. Anyone who tries to run, I won’t mind playing with you."

The looters were already scared out of their wits, disregarding the pain on their bodies as they got up.

Going back to Hamlet to serve a sentence was better than being tortured and waiting to die in this wicked place.

They were just a bunch of cowards who bullied the weak and feared the strong. If they had the guts, they would have ventured deeper instead of looting here.

Moreover, just the thought of their bodies being desecrated by wicked wizards and turned into skeletons after death was unbearable for many of them, to be honest, they too wanted to go to heaven.

Whether they would or not, it’s clear that the influence of the Church’s beliefs on ordinary people is profound...

The looters had been stripped of their weapons, each one bowed their heads and staggered, looking like soulless zombies.

But don’t think Dismas and his men would be courteous; if anyone walked too slowly, they’d get a kick.

As for running away, could they outrun bullets and feather arrows?

Especially since they’d been scared out of their wits, the once frenzied looters had turned into sheep.

For Reynard and his men, not killing these guys was for multiple reasons. Being close confidants of the Lord, they knew some of Hamlet’s secrets and understood that death would hasten the awakening of the Evil God, so they had a duty not to kill randomly.

Another reason was to establish authority over these guys, to tell them the ruins were part of Hamlet and not a lawless place.

As for after using them? They were goods needed by the doctors, the sanatorium was their true home.

The young man received treatment, and the turmoil in his guts finally subsided a bit, and he watched those leaving people, then looked down at the musket in his hand, seemingly realizing he was alive.

But those people were just too strange, actually...

"Woo woo woo... We survived."

"I was scared to death just now, I thought we were doomed."

The other scavengers who had been hiding throughout the event finally reacted, overwhelmed by the joy of surviving a disaster, they kept talking to vent the accumulated pressure, almost going crazy!

The noises drew the young man’s attention back, but his gaze was not friendly.

Why did they say brothers, when he was in trouble not one reacted, and they didn’t even dare to run? Such teammates were just speechless.

Seemingly aware they hadn’t helped before and were feeling guilty, when someone noticed the young man’s gaze, they instantly quieted down.

"Brother, are you alright?"

"Be careful, I’ll help you up."

...

Those people immediately came over, trying to mend relations a bit.

"I’m not dying yet." The young man struggled to stand up before anyone got close. It must be said that the Divine Arts had healed many of his injuries, otherwise standing up would be hard, or even surviving.

His posture, holding the musket, paired with his angry eyes, scared the scavengers from coming close.

Undoubtedly, the young man felt betrayed; he was beaten while they remained unharmed, who wouldn’t be angry?

Being beaten could be overlooked, but almost being sodomized? Who could bear such grievances?

But after a few breaths, he suppressed his anger; a gun could only kill one, and then what?

Either they would run madly, or they would join forces to kill him, killing them and provoking a conflict brought no benefits to himself.

The young man’s gaze again fell upon the unconscious leader on the ground, "carrying a weapon, arises the will to kill" this saying greatly resonated, anger no longer suppressed, he aimed the musket at him.

This action actually relieved the scavengers, and some even started to spur him on.

"Shoot him dead!"

"Yes, kill him."

"Not this guy..."

They too needed a place to vent emotions, now all blamed the leader, each one who hadn’t dared speak now was so brave, even kicking him.

Their actions instead cooled down the young man’s rage, realizing they were right, leaving him here was the real torture, dying wasn’t so easy.

"Alright, it’s getting dark, let’s pack our things quickly and leave, just follow them and you won’t fear bandits."

The young man’s words brought them to their senses, several people quickly came up to help collect the scattered trash and put it back in the bags, one even offered to carry it.

The young man didn’t refuse; it’s what they should do, while he carefully handled the musket, soon grasping its function.

Carefully setting down the hammer, tucking it back in his belt, hanging up the ammunition pouch, instantly straightening his spine.

"Brother, who were those people?"

"Nonsense, they said it themselves, they are Hamlet’s law enforcement team."

"Those people are so strong, easily defeating those bandits."

"Of course, they are the Lord of Hamlet’s envoys."

The strong power displayed by the small team earlier was indeed convincing, especially for the young man, becoming idols...

As for Reynard and his team, they drove the looters away, wanting to leave the ruins before night fell, otherwise they’d be surrounded by skeletons.

"Brother, this isn’t like you." Reynard knew Dismas well, anyone daring to point a gun at him would be dead.

On this matter, Dismas smiled and teased, "I see that kid hasn’t even used a musket before; he didn’t pull the hammer, even pulling the trigger would be useless, otherwise who’d dare really gamble their life?"

Not far before Laura noticed the little tails following behind, reminding the team.

"They’re following us."

"Let them follow, otherwise why did we save them? If they’re eaten by other looters, wouldn’t we have wasted our effort."

Clearly, their words revealed those scavengers were also part of a plan.

Hamlet wanted to show its control over the ruins, and besides violent actions like before, needed voices to spread the message.

The scavengers returning to town would spread that scene, intimidating those looters, whether they wanted to or not, they would have to endure this pressure.

The town location was right there, almost every adventurer visiting the ruins chose to withdraw, the rest were hard to say, witnessing the increasing number of people.

Among them, most could be considered as having fruitful returns, carrying bags, even if filled with bricks would be worth money.

Meanwhile, Reynard and his men driving away a crowd quickly attracted others’ attention.

"Leader, look, it’s those looters."

"Doesn’t look like they grabbed anything, who’s following them?"

"Damn! I’ve seen that nun, she’s from Hamlet."

The most recognizable here wasn’t knights like Reynard, but the rare clergy.

Few were enough to count on one hand, even before the ruins were open, many discussed them.

Scorpion also noticed, he saw scavengers following the team, not just those, but increasingly more.

Those scavengers voluntarily seeking Hamlet’s sanctuary, what did that illustrate?

Scorpion’s mind dug deeper than ordinary people, seeing Hamlet’s influence extending into the ruins.

Simultaneously, more understood the benefits under Hamlet’s protection, willingly affiliating.

However, these have nothing to do with them...

Around the ruins, Reynard’s team wasn’t the only force, many resources had been actively invested, seeing Hamlet’s army even on the outskirts.

Summoning over a squad of soldiers, yet before escorting the looters, there needed to be one more thing done...