Our Family Has Fallen

"For Hamlet!"

"We are the Lord’s blade!"

"Slay!"

With a roar, the cavalry drew their sabers and began to charge. The cavalry, who had been tasked with harassment, finally displayed their strength.

Under the firelight, the sabers swung like streams of light. Without flesh and blood to cushion, the impact easily shattered them, and the sound of countless bones crackling echoed beneath the horses’ hooves.

If cannons are plows, then cavalry are the combs, meant to rid Hamlet of its lice.

But the cavalry were too few in number, covering only a portion of the area.

Why were the cavalry holding torches? Because in such a dim environment, their allies needed the torches to discern their positions.

Seeing those cavalry pierce through the formation of skeletons, the infantry, who had been waiting on the frontline for some time, finally raised numerous torches, revealing a large group of musketeers.

"Fire at will!"

The dense sound of gunfire erupted, more like the crackling of firecrackers compared to the booming of cannons.

To be honest, muskets weren’t particularly effective against skeletons; they either passed through the bones or hit only parts. Unless hitting a vital spot like the spine, they had little impact.

After two rounds of shooting, not many skeletons were seen falling, but the distance between both sides had closed, leaving no room for further shooting.

Although the repeated attacks had diminished the overwhelming sense of pressure, it still posed a challenge for those infantrymen.

"Fix bayonets!"

Under the reverberating command, soldiers armed with long guns fitted with bayonets soon clashed with the skeletons. To be frank, it wasn’t very optimistic.

The bayonets were meant for stabbing, more effective against flesh-and-blood beings, naturally not very useful against skeletons.

But they were here for training and had to bear this pressure, forming small groups, even resorting to smashing with gun butts in desperation.

The true main force was those armored soldiers wielding shields and one-handed hammers, massacring the skeletons as if playing Whack-a-Mole, smashing one with each swing.

This battle ended quickly as remaining bouts turned into mere waste of time.

Lance, emerging from the dungeon, happened to witness the battle, observing the situation thoroughly.

"Hmm, you did well."

Upon returning, Lance realized it had been seven days since he left. Barton’s large-scale training was quite efficient, proving him skilled in this field.

Previously lacking many troops for him, he could only serve as an artillery instructor, which was beneath his talents. Now, with the army consolidated, their force appeared even stronger.

The most direct impression he got from the battle was their excellent discipline, displaying the results of rigorous training. This effectively demonstrated the cooperation among the cavalry, artillery, and infantry.

Another special aspect was that Hamlet’s army had night-time advantages ordinary armies lacked.

Firstly, these soldiers were well-nourished, their diet including a certain amount of meat, offal, and fish oil for vitamin supplement, which essentially eradicated night blindness.

According to Lance, a large proportion of ordinary people in this era suffered from night blindness due to lack of nutrition channels.

The majority of soldiers drafted from these serfs mostly had night blindness, rendering their courage against death ineffective at night.

However, Hamlet’s current enemies were not among these.

Lance turned back and gestured to Barton.

"Recall the army, do not head towards the ruins recently, your enemies might be..."

Lance began to assign some tasks, with orders distinctly shifting from offensive to defensive.

Of course, Barton and his troops agreed simply due to the severe depletion of resources. Even with continuous supplies, the warehouse had never been full during these days.

Though realizing it was meant to deter adventurers, the training was excessively extravagant, something even Totnes’s troops wouldn’t dare attempt.

Lance certainly understood. Otherwise, why would he prefer to let adventurers explore the relics rather than dispatching the army?

The costs were too steep...

Lance directed Barton to lead the legion back to their station, letting the legion settle into the town.

This move left adventurers scratching their heads, pondering why everything suddenly went silent.

Lance didn’t follow them; instead, he sought out Alviss.

"I’ve encountered some problems that need your help, and the task’s reward is my help to cure your ailments."

Lance was straightforward, for at their level, there was no need for subtlety; after all, weren’t they experts?

What he could offer was simple, but incredibly important to an elderly person.

Not to mention how he became legendary, he accumulated various old injuries, and at this age, there would be some decline.

Alviss did not doubt Lance’s capability. During this time, he gained much understanding of Hamlet and the Lord; otherwise, he wouldn’t have agreed to help save lives.

However, he didn’t agree immediately but instead asked a practical question.

"What problem?"

"We’ve discovered a transmission gate and want to know if there’s any risk in activation and if it can still be used."

"Is it that simple?" Alviss was a bit surprised; it was like facing an exam with questions in his area of expertise, wasn’t it an easy victory?