Our Family Has Fallen

Lance took the backpack from Grendel’s hands and immediately shoved it into Geralt’s, but he noticed something and added with a smile.

"I know you want to keep that money, but it’s pointless, because if you want to save them there are plenty of things you’ll have to spend money on. I’m sure you’re well aware of that.

But honestly, carrying this much money on the road right now is pure dead weight. You can take a portion with you and leave the rest in safekeeping here. Set up a token and a password.

Then tell the Witchers defending the town that as long as they hold the line, they’ll earn a bounty. Faced with danger, using Gold Coin to keep them going is probably more reliable than anything else.

And because the money has to come to Hamlet to be converted, I can distinguish it by the token and password. If you die, they don’t get it. It’s an extra layer of insurance for you."

What Lance said undoubtedly gave Geralt an idea. In reality, he couldn’t carry away this much money, but if he arranged things according to the Lord’s suggestion, it would count as leaving a fallback.

He’d just been thinking about rushing back and hadn’t considered any of this. The Lord really did have a head for such things, so he immediately asked for advice.

Lance didn’t mind at all and briefly helped him analyze the situation.

"Since the enemy has already made preparations, that means they definitely know something about you. When defending a town, the worst thing is an insider. You must pay attention to the other Witchers; they’re not necessarily trustworthy.

And you have to think through your retreat. Evacuate everyone not suited for fighting, streamline your personnel, keep only those with combat strength, and hide anything valuable in advance.

Once that place loses its value and is full of danger, those enemies won’t have such a strong desire to press the attack.

If things really become impossible, then just withdraw. A single building doesn’t mean anything. Preserving your strength is what matters most. As long as you’re alive, everything else follows.

Lastly, don’t forget Hamlet still has friends like us. They may not be able to accommodate you there, but Hamlet will welcome you."

Lance wasn’t clear on their exact situation, but based on the information he’d gathered, he still roughly analyzed the key points they needed to watch.

"The Witchers will remember Hamlet’s help, and I’ll remember yours, my Lord." Geralt’s expression grew solemn as well.

Because time was pressing, they didn’t waste many words here, and soon Geralt took the backpack and headed out.

Grendel hadn’t spoken just now, but she seemed to have caught the gist of it. Once he left, she couldn’t help but ask.

"Why would Witchers suddenly be attacked?"

"No idea. The Romani’s report didn’t include more detailed information; it might just be some conflict."

Lance remembered that the place they were in was a region formed by the union of many kingdoms controlled by the Mage Council.

They called them kingdoms, but internally they were patchwork, divided into a number of zones, pretty much the same structure as the Empire’s noble fiefs, with feudal nobles ruling as well.

But unlike here, they didn’t have an Empire-style Church of Light suppressing things over there, so in fact those kingdoms were all controlled from behind the scenes by the Spellcasters.

It was just that Spellcasters weren’t called Wizards over there, but Mages, and the special ones were called Magicians.

And the Witchers’ origin seemed to be that Mages created human-shaped weapons to fight Magical Beasts that possessed Supernatural Power.

They were culled and trained through brutal rituals, and there were different schools. Their long lifespans made each of them into a Master in time, but statistics showed that very few Witchers died of old age; most died in battle.

As far as Lance knew, not all Witchers were like Geralt. Plenty of them weren’t that impressive. Geralt was one of the few exceptions.

Lance didn’t care what reason had led to Witchers being besieged, but he was willing to invest in Geralt.

Because Lance had learned that the ones who created them were Masters in the field of genetic mutation and modification. These people had carried out a huge number of experiments even more outrageous than what went on in the sanatorium, all to transform humanity.

Over the following centuries, many Masters devoted themselves to this, and they ultimately completed the work called [Witcher].

So what Lance had his eye on was those Masters’ research data. Only knowledge is truly priceless.

If they held out, then he’d go there in person when the time came.

If they didn’t, then they would come to him.

Either way, those things would end up in his hands, and all he needed to provide was a bit of utterly trivial help.

Geralt’s departure, along with that sum of money, would spread Hamlet’s name, draw Witchers in. It was all part of his plan.

From the moment he heard the news to the moment he adjusted his plan, the whole process took only the time they’d spent walking to the sanatorium. You could only say that this was exactly Lance’s line of work.

As for the mission being short one or two unimportant people, Hamlet had plenty of capable hands.

Because he might not have much time to handle the potion business later, Lance took the opportunity to tell Grendel about the arrangement with Sela.

In this world, there actually wasn’t a lack of treatment methods. Whether it was Junia’s Divine Arts or Alhazred’s Secret Technique, both could achieve obvious results in a very short time.

But how many people could actually get these big names to treat them?

There were similar things in the potion field as well, but their cost ran into the hundreds of Gold Coin, not to mention the sale price, and they were limited by both ingredients and brewing techniques. Large-scale production was completely impossible.

These things were destined to serve only the high end, which was exactly why the Church didn’t bother with them.

But what Lance had developed here, for ordinary people, wasn’t primarily about healing wounds, but curing diseases.

That’s right, this kind of potion acted on the body’s own restorative capacity, activating the immune system. The real focus was treating illness.

Leprosy, venereal diseases—basically anything caused by various viruses and bacteria it worked very well against, while the self-healing boost could only be considered a side effect.

It did have flaws as well, namely that it wasn’t much help against poisoning or corrosion-type conditions.

"You really want to hand this over to those Romani? We’ll have absolutely no way to guarantee the potion’s price, and no way to guarantee its quality." Even Grendel’s gentle face creased into a faint frown.

She really didn’t want to hand something she’d worked so hard to produce over to those people, especially when they could so easily ruin its reputation.

"Since when does the world give you everything both ways? We want to use their channels, so of course we have to share profits with them. Otherwise why would anyone help you do things?" Lance was amused by her, but still patiently explained.

"We need to think long-term. As long as we let people know such a potion exists, switching to our own distribution later will be painless. From raw materials to compounding, all the core tech stays in our hands. The Romani pose no threat at all."

"Every time those Romani come, it’s never a good thing. The first time they came, Hamlet’s public order went to hell. The second time, Fishmen invaded. Now this third time, they show up with this kind of news and cost us a combatant." Grendel knew Lance must have already thought it through, but she was still the same as ever, needing to vent a bit of temper, and she immediately grabbed Sela to complain.

Lance actually understood that Grendel was just looking for a topic to express her displeasure. She still held a grudge that he hadn’t taken her down into the dungeon.

He didn’t bring that up himself, so he could only let the Romani suffer a bit, and Sela take the blame. Anyway, they were already used to carrying that black pot.

But seeing Lance play dumb, Grendel simply laid it out.

"Now that Geralt has to leave, your original plan is short one person. What are you going to do?"

"No, I think you’ve got one thing wrong. Geralt was only the backup choice." Lance grinned outright. "No one is missing from the original team. We just need to go give them a heads-up."

Grendel seemed to have guessed something, and her expression tightened; maybe Lance’s constant evasions had annoyed her into half a laugh.

"Come on, let’s go meet the new team member."

But Lance didn’t care, turning and leaving. Only when she followed did Grendel notice the route was wrong?

Then she saw Lance head straight to the laboratory to grab a little mouse, which only deepened her confusion.

"What are you doing here? Don’t tell me you’re taking a mouse down there?"

Hearing her question, Lance smiled, scooped up the mouse, and held it up toward Grendel.

"It is a mouse, yes. It just needs a little help to adapt to the human world."