Our Family Has Fallen

Not to mention just treating a severely injured Barbarian Tribe member.

Just as everyone fell into a moment of silence, Lance performed a small Bless and awakened the sleeping Boslake, displaying a meticulously crafted scene in front of the observing Barbarian Tribes.

"Ah... what happened to me?" Boslake only recalled his last memory on the road, he must have collapsed as he couldn’t hold on.

"Father!" Sapan hurried over as he watched Boslake, who was weak to the point of losing consciousness, gradually come to, "Father, are you okay!"

"I’m fine..." Boslake quickly responded, his consciousness swiftly returning, and his gaze involuntarily fell on the two standing before him.

Upon seeing Grendel, he realized he survived, and couldn’t help expressing gratitude.

"Priest, your kindness has dispersed the Mountains’ fog..."

"Father, it was Lord who saved you, we’ve arrived at Hamlet."

Sapan softly reminded, prompting Boslake to look at the man.

Mysterious and powerful, both encounters only showed a smiling face, seemingly impervious to anything.

Simply standing there brought a sense of inexplicable calm, as if the initial anxiety dissipated.

"My Lord."

Recovering slightly from a daze, Boslake struggled to get up to greet, his demeanor inadvertently lowered.

"It’s alright~" Lance smiled, helping him up. His demeanor was impeccable, giving a sense of trust.

If Boslake initially just sought to escape the Mountains, placing forced hope in Grendel.

Actually, he wasn’t sure what Hamlet was like, whether they would receive them.

But now he seemed to understand that their hope rested with this man.

Without hesitation, Boslake stood and fetched the Serpent Bow, bowing one knee to Lance, presenting the large bow with both hands.

"Please, My Lord, accept us, save so many people... or they won’t survive this winter."

This scene was witnessed by many Barbarian Tribes; many of them were reluctant to yield to the Imperial Nobles.

But Boslake’s latter words explained everything, many had fallen on the journey, without Sanctuary, most wouldn’t survive the winter.

Despite wanting to loudly refuse, expressing they wouldn’t yield, they had lost their tribes and were already defeated.

Reality forced them to lower their heads, as the younger men avoided, not wanting to look over.

While the women held their children, casting hopeful eyes for acceptance but also anxious, fearing Lance’s refusal.

After all, the conflict between the Mountains and the Empire wasn’t new; their estrangement was like a thick barrier...

Lance sensed their complex intertwining emotions, but instead of accepting the large bow, he turned to them, raising his hands and called out.

"Everyone, look at me, watch me, I have an announcement!"

These words drew everyone’s attention, allowing Lance to continue.

"I won’t say you’ll get everything by coming here, but what I can promise you is that in Hamlet, everyone will receive fair treatment, the diligent won’t go hungry, nor need to fear the cold and snow."

Lance didn’t promise them much; initially, these Barbarian Mercenaries had use, worth recruiting.

But now as things developed, to Lance they were no different from other refugees, even more troublesome.

Firstly, they were Mountain Barbarians; although human, their possibly barbaric and eccentric nature was hard to change.

Secondly, there’s the long-standing friction between the Mountains and the Empire; while Lance didn’t care, others’ attitudes couldn’t be guaranteed.

Moreover, only a few elites among them had nurturing value; most lacked utility, especially so many women and children, lacking even the most basic Barbarian fighting strength.

They weren’t particularly ’valuable’ refugees, so Lance could only offer them relative fairness, and even that was relative.

This consideration led him not to accept Boslake’s large bow, as he didn’t want to make overly significant promises.

Fairness was established by Hamlet’s rules, consistent for all, so these so-called commitments were essentially hollow.

This is the art of language.

However, Lance didn’t express this; after speaking, he looked at the slightly disappointed Boslake, emphasizing:

"I won’t use your hardship to compel allegiance, but will extend aid to those in need."

He then helped the kneeling Boslake up, shouting.

"Welcome to Hamlet!"

His words elevated all preceding exchanges to another level.

Those suspicious of Lance earlier, among the Barbarian Tribes, felt like slapping themselves.

How could they doubt such a noble person?

What is charisma?

See the Barbarian Tribes’ initial wariness of Lance transforming into admiration in just ten minutes and a few words.

Damn it, holding no real responsibility, yet he played the good guy, reaping trust; he’s a master at this game.

Grendel watched beside him, perhaps through rose-tinted glasses, saw nothing amiss, instead witnessing Lance gain everyone’s respect, a smile unknowingly appeared.

She initially thought she’d need to step in, but now it was clear it was unnecessary, nothing could truly challenge him.

"Let’s go, Hamlet’s just ahead, once settled we can discuss anything else, rest assured, Hamlet is safe with ample food."

For those fleeing, nothing’s more essential than a place for a stable meal and sleep.

The despairing faces of the Barbarian Tribes also showed a glimmer of hope, as they began to pack and move onwards.

Meanwhile, Boslake naturally fell to the rear, conversing with Lance about what transpired on their journey.

"Upon returning..."

Just as Boslake agreed with Grendel before, upon returning he incited the Barbarian Tribes against the Fang Tribe.

Without the Warwolf’s top-notch combat strength, and after losing many elite members, they undoubtedly were exposed as sheep in wolf’s clothing.

Soon, a team of elite members headed towards the Fang Tribe’s base, initially sensing something odd due to exaggerated battle traces and scattered corpses nearby.

Despite their doubts, they ventured deeper, unexpectedly encountering neither Fang Tribe warriors nor white wolves, but...

"We encountered a group of mindless monsters, whose size and bones became deformed, appeared as a fusion of human and wolf.

Huge frame, yet the gaunt muscles almost adhered to the bones, covered with flowing long hair; in some areas, mutated flesh bore twisted tentacles and disgusting proliferations.

And even more terrifying..."

The team encountered these monsters, but not ordinary people, daring to confront them.

The monsters were fierce and fast; their claws could easily tear through armor, and their wolf-like bite could crunch bones.

But the true horror was their healing ability and infection capability.

Normal weapons inflicted little harm, but a monster’s bite could spread infection, transforming victims into similar creatures.

The team suffered heavily, few escaped, running only because of Boslake’s ranged attacks.

This upheaval caused a beastly disease to start spreading in the Mountains, forcing tribes to recall troops to resist the twisted monsters.