Our Family Has Fallen

If they want to write something to point the finger at Lance, it might just give Lance another chance to hype up the riot at the time, highlighting Lance’s clear-cut enmity and saying what he did was actually letting them go.

If they leave in disgrace, then the Church becomes the clown, a scenario Lance is happy to see.

[Martyr Martin] The golden image of the Church’s legendary figure was stripped away in front of so many people in Hamlet, exposing the distorted face beneath the Church’s glamorous white robe.

Anyway, I win, the only difference is whether I win once or twice, meaning I win twice.

Actually, there’s a very important reason, which is that this Extraordinary Equipment is exclusive, these people around him can’t use it.

The Church Duo signed the proof and took back their belongings, and they also found that Hamlet was very different from when they entered before.

More outsiders and constant hype about those ruin-related news, and now their story is part of it.

But compared to the monk’s silence, the priest showed anger, wanting to fight for the Holy Light.

"We must annihilate those corpse-defiling wizards!"

The Mendicant Monk didn’t cooperate with his companion’s performance but contemplated how to break the stalemate.

This situation made the monk smell a hint of conspiracy, but at this moment, he felt like an insect caught in a spider’s web, the more he struggled, the deeper he got entangled, with no escape.

Undoubtedly, he’s trapped here...

After all, the cooperative companions, the priest also felt the monk’s dilemma and couldn’t help but look over.

But at this moment, the monk felt offended, how dare you question me? The originally calm face turned hideous.

"This is an evil trap, fool!"

But after he said this, he sensed something, furrowed his brows, suppressing the agitation in his heart, and murmured strange words.

"No... Hurry and leave, this place is twisting our will..."

...

Lance is sorting through the retrieved materials, actually mainly to find information on the reproduction of Flesh Devourers and modifications of the prototype Sandworm.

And soon he received a message, outside there’s a barbarian named Boslake wanting to see him, supposedly mentioning this name will be known.

This name reminded Lance of something, prompting him to get up and instruct.

"Let him in."

But the person shook his head and added.

"The person is unwilling to enter the town, just outside, and did not come via the old route, looks quite strange."

"I understand, go inform Miss Grendel."

Lance wasn’t surprised, the barbarian tribes always carried some wariness towards the Empire, especially with the current Earl at war with them.

He urgently needed to get the information about the mountains from that person, as the news he received seemed a bit odd.

But the next situation caught Lance off guard; the person claiming to be Boslake wasn’t the sturdy man with a large bow he met before, but a slender, weak-looking boy.

The boy visibly carried an alert and anxious demeanor towards the surroundings.

"Hello, I am Lance." Lance did not show much emotion, still smiling as he approached, "You must be his son, I’ve heard him mention you."

Being exposed with a single sentence, the boy’s face involuntarily showed surprise.

Seeing his reaction confirmed Lance’s guess, ultimately the young cannot hold back emotions.

Recognizable purely through the similar facial features and that tribal signature snake-shaped tattoo, albeit carrying a touch of youthful vigor.

But why is he here?

"Don’t worry, this is Hamlet, if you’re in any trouble you can speak to me." Lance didn’t rush to inquire anything, instead comforting his uneasy emotions.

The boy, not knowing why, felt a bit relieved hearing that voice, the first sight of the man in front gave him a kind inexplicable trust.

"Father, they..."

"Sapan!"

And just then a shout broke his speech, the boy urgently looked over at the voice, upon seeing the caller his expression grew more agitated, "Sister Dai’er!"

Seeing this made Lance more certain, the youth called Sapan was indeed Boslake’s son whose ritual failed and was crippled, as that person was revived by Grendel back then.

Grendel’s appearance completely dispelled his final piece of wariness, now Sapan hurriedly gestured.

"Father is injured, Lord please save him."

Grendel looked at Lance.

"First save the person, whatever it is can be discussed later."

Understanding the urgency, Lance immediately proceeded without further delay, following Sapan into the forest.

But Sapan’s weak physical condition was truly terrible, panting heavily after only a few steps, completely devoid of that robust barbarian constitution.

Presumably, if the youth wasn’t the tribal leader’s son, working odds outside for Boslake, he would’ve long been abandoned and died of sickness.

Lance found his speed intolerably slow, without anything crucial perhaps he wouldn’t mind walking slowly, understanding what transpired in the meantime.

But crucial persons were about to die now.

Like crucial narrative figures in games gravely injured and dying nearby, but the production crew deliberately stalls your speed.

This youth gave Lance the impression of such an ill-humored production crew.

Clearly immensely weak, but for his gravely injured father, adventuring alone into a stranger’s territory seeking aid.

In anxious anticipation finally encountering hope, obtaining help.

Holding onto hopes for a bright conclusion, dragging his injury-ridden physique back.

Unfortunately, the pace is just too slow, reaching when the character leaves a final statement and then dies.

Or arrives only to find he’s deceased, witnessing his failure destroy hope due to personal reasons, expressing a string of chaotic emotions, mimicking tragic transcendence... to hell with transcendence!

The job is just about kill kill kill! Done done done! Rampant rampant rampant!

Lance immediately gestured towards Sapan.

"Let me carry you, you lead the way."

This proposal left Sapan puzzled, for even if he hadn’t seen it but had heard of the nobility’s actions, how could an Imperial noble possibly carry a civilian? Let alone a barbarian; was this man truly the Empire’s Noble Lord?

"Get on now." Lance urged, isn’t the dying father yours? Yet dawdling around?

Sapan realized, now was not the time for such thoughts.

His meager weight to Lance was non-existent, if not for fear of him fainting halfway dead from fright, Lance could run while carrying him single-handedly.

Instantly Lance bolted forward, for Sapan, weak as a sprout, the speed surged to an exaggerated level.

At first, scared, but quickly realizing the sturdy back was stable, without excessive movement, instilling an indescribable sense of security.

Simultaneously, his emotions grew complex, prior he was resistant to his father leaving the mountains, seeking the Imperial nobles for help.

The fear of beyond mountains, and that ingrained filter about Imperial nobles, were just not good people.

But upon meeting this lord, and the Deer Head Priest, his understanding of father’s choice seemed clearer.

In Hamlet, they might just survive.

Grendel was not surprised, even smiled seeing it unfold, knowing that lord to be such a peculiar person.

Once moving, she quickly followed suit, though a spellcaster, her constitution was far from weak, indicating Lance hadn’t yet given his all.