Our Family Has Fallen

In the past, it was always the Lord who carried Hamlet on his shoulders, and as long as he was there, no matter how serious the problem, it couldn’t shake him in the slightest.

The events happening in the city were truly overwhelming; nowadays, in just one day, they felt a bit dizzy.

It seemed that whenever Lance left, the world would start turning again, like an out-of-control carriage rushing forward with unstoppable momentum.

However, fortunately, with the arrival of night, no matter what happened during the day, they managed to get through another day.

Hamlet, the ruins.

Compared to the various chaotic happenings in the city, the situation in the new town was much simpler, because the vast majority of people had gone to the ruins to knock on skeletons, so any conflicts were not happening within the town.

The adventurers who arrived kept rushing up to the ruins to hunt for treasure, without even the slightest intention to linger.

Initially, they might have feared the skeletons resurrected by necromancy, but they quickly found that even an adult with a stick could easily scatter them, which utterly liberated these people, driving them to work even harder under the motive of getting rich.

Especially those among the elite; they had better equipment, abundant experience, and a stable team.

And they had a clear plan: there was nothing worthwhile in the outskirts; they needed to find the rich areas and key places like churches to discover truly valuable items.

However, the Hamlet Ruins were too vast, and in front of countless skeletons, they only advanced a little distance in one day.

"Captain, it’s getting dark."

The group had crushed another wave of skeletons but showed little joy, because they had been smashing them all day, and no matter how passionate the start was, by this stage, fatigue began to show.

Scorpion also switched weapons; he put the rapier on his back and picked up a rusty torch holder, swinging it more effectively than a sword.

Hearing this, Scorpion glanced at everyone, seemingly understanding something.

Now, they either needed to clear a building and camp there as a temporary base to get through the night, continuing in the morning.

Or retreat to the small town now and wait till dawn to continue.

One choice brought danger but could also secure the Mercenary Corps’ leading edge.

The other was safer but required paying a price, considering who knew if the cleared path would still be there the next day.

Scorpion looked up at the ruins under the setting sun, feeling a sense of unwillingness but quickly made a decision.

"Pack up quickly, we’re going back."

Currently, most of the skeletons were hiding in the shadows, like inside buildings, and taking those places required fighting, but the team’s condition wasn’t great.

Another reason was the uncertain circumstances of the night; the information in the announcement had already been confirmed in many ways, and he didn’t want to take that risk.

His conservative inclination showed, but this choice matched his cautious nature, otherwise he wouldn’t have submitted to Lance back then and resisted the Mercenary Guild’s coercion and inducements.

Usually, the team members were casual, even mockingly teasing each other, because they shared a deep bond that allowed some jokes.

But during real actions, they never questioned the captain’s decisions and promptly started packing up.

In reality, they had some small gains along the way; though not much, it satisfied their joy of treasure hunting, maintaining their thirst for the unknown.

The further they went, the fewer adventurers could keep up, but upon retreating, many other frontline teams also withdrew, showing everyone’s uncertainty about the coming of night.

They all wanted to observe, for being on the outskirts, without enough benefits to really risk their lives.

Yet they kept their distance from each other, maintaining a safe gap.

Why did they have this habit? Because compared to the sluggish skeletons, humans were the terrifying elements in such an environment.

Some people probably had yet to anticipate this.

A team of young scavengers roamed the ruins, accurately described as scavengers rather than adventurers.

They came from surrounding areas upon hearing about the ruins, mostly restless youths yearning to find treasure and embark on knightly novel-like adventures.

These people had no weapons or armor; the only thing classifiable as a weapon was a shovel.

The shovel had already emptied their collective funds, but fortunately, the findings in the ruins outweighed their expense.

They didn’t have the courage to fight, but they could follow behind major figures and pick up what those people deemed worthless.

Things like scrap metal or curious objects they couldn’t understand could be brought back, as they might be valuable, and they heard the town was buying books too.

Each of them carried a cloth sack; though it was filled with what seemed like junk, to them it was a significant haul.

And they had a secret: they found a ring on a skeleton, though it seemed like a plain silver ring not worth much money.

But even if it was worth a few silver coins, it would be more than working for a year for the lord of the farm back in the village.

Thinking of this, the members of the group could hardly contain their fatigued bodies, carrying their sacks with faces full of hopeful joy.