Our Family Has Fallen

"Then let’s skip the nonsense and talk about the situation, and how we’re going to deal with it."

Since the united front has already been formed, they went straight to the main topic.

Everyone was familiar with the Lord’s style; as soon as the incident happened he started sorting things out and listed the main points.

"Since the black curtain appeared, these few days have had a huge impact on Hamlet, mainly in several aspects.

Not many of these people know about the great catastrophe that hit Hamlet back then, but once word spreads from those with an agenda, panic is inevitable, and quite a number of people have fled..."

First, someone spread fear and made some people run, and on top of that, in these dim conditions the difficulty of management has shot up, and a lot of nasty cases have already occurred.

Then the arrival of the Extreme Darkness has disrupted production and daily life, reduced efficiency, yet increased resource consumption.

The only good thing is the autumn harvest was long finished; otherwise with the sky dark for so long, even the grain might have been affected, though those medicinal fields and the like are another story.

Several dozen police officers have been killed or injured, and ordinary civilians have suffered casualties too, exposing problems with the police equipment...

In short, all kinds of issues have surfaced; Hamlet is currently suffering heavily under the impact of the Extreme Darkness. It’s only because Lance, this "squirrel" who likes to stash supplies, stockpiled resources that things are still manageable.

Especially grain—several warehouses are piled full. No matter how chaotic things get, the grain supply can be kept stable.

Lance nodded, and started assigning tasks based on the problems they had just discussed, adjusting the original strategy.

First was the matter of New Town and the ruins—this is a bomb; mishandle it and it blows up in your hands.

"Your decision-making in New Town was good. You used the legend of the Legion to tie down those adventurers. Right now our main goal is to stabilize the base.

Across all of Hamlet, we need to keep work going as much as possible, even release more short-term jobs. Even if it costs money, we have to make sure most ordinary people have something to do, or they’ll start overthinking things."

The source of these problems is the black curtain overhead; solving it is actually simple, but it requires time, so playing it safe is paramount.

And what can force those adventurers and those "rats" in the underground back into the sewers? Of course—power.

"We have to show those adventurers our strength. The only thing they understand is a fist. This is the perfect opportunity for a major training exercise, to test corps-level operations and lay the groundwork for future combat."

In the mid to late stages of fighting the evil cultists out in the wilds, the army had only been engaging in small-scale actions. They also lacked coordination between cavalry, artillery, and infantry, as well as proper tactics.

Lance isn’t good at fighting wars, but Barton is a top graduate of the Totnes Gunsmithing Academy, Reynard has also commanded corps-level operations, and Balistan has had a lot of exposure to infantry tactics...

So they might as well take this chance to reorganize the army and accumulate experience in corps combat. After all, the enemies they’ll face in the future won’t be just evil cultists, and Lance prefers to be prepared.

Barton and a few Commanders exchanged glances. Their so-called raid on the ruins had only ever been intended as a show; they hadn’t truly meant to wage war on the Skeletons. Now the Lord wanted to go in for real.

"My Lord, earlier we burned through a lot of supplies, especially gunpowder, to extract the soldiers trapped in the ruins. I think we should postpone things; with the red mist covering everything, they can’t see us anyway."

The cavalry had managed to get in and out with minimal casualties only because they blew up several wagonloads of bombs, draining the frontline stockpiles, which still haven’t been replenished.

Given the power it takes to blast apart Skeletons, it’s easy to tell those bombs were not just grenades; most of them were actually shells for mortars.

A single shell could be three times the size of a grenade, packed with more gunpowder and naturally much more destructive.

But now they’d all been detonated, and that’s not even counting the other consumables. At present, the frontline supplies simply can’t support a full-scale war.

Barton said this as a tactful reminder that the frontline can’t afford a real fight right now—if the truth came out, they’d be in trouble.

He was also offering Lance a way out; using this as an excuse, they could delay the decision, pin the mistake on the original rescue plan, and keep the Lord free of blame.

Let’s just say Barton had enough emotional intelligence to climb to his current position.

But Lance did not agree with that line of reasoning; he absolutely could not follow Barton’s logic. Wouldn’t that amount to denying the rescue operation?

Then who would dare take risks in the future? "Standing still while friendly forces are in peril" is not something that can happen in Hamlet.

And everyone present here had been among those rescued—saying this in front of them, isn’t that a bit hurtful?

Anything that undermines unity should be left unsaid.

Lance immediately spoke up in criticism.

"Are my soldiers not worth those supplies?"

"My Lord, that’s not what I meant..."

Lance didn’t keep a stern face; on the contrary, he softened his tone to reassure him.

"I know you’re worried that the risky operation wasn’t officially approved, but you did well. You did your utmost to save your comrades—that is what defines us in Hamlet.

Besides, the frontline situation doesn’t allow much time for hesitation. I won’t blame you. Just submit a supplementary report."

Having said that, he skipped the unnecessary lecturing and moved straight to orders.

"No more talk. Whatever supplies you need, file a report and request them—I’ll have them prepared. What you need to do is get your battle plan ready. The frontline still can’t do without you. Go."

Barton could hear the Lord’s protective intent in those words—shifting the focus to their failure to go through proper procedure, which was also helping him justify what they’d done.

With that, what else could Barton say except pledge his loyalty?

"Yes, sir!"

Barton accepted the order and left. Like the army, the police also had serious problems in this disaster.

They would give the police better gear; the special police would be equipped with bayonet rifles, bombs, Incendiary Bottles, Corpse Decomposition Spores, and similar tools.

Against spiritual attacks, physical armor is useless, because in most of the fatal cases here, people were killed by savage Spiritual Essence shock, their hearts failing under the impact.

Some officers managed to withstand it; you could only say the power of their will was still impressively strong.

But it’s undeniable that some police officers ran. In those circumstances that’s not surprising, and Lance hesitated very little about what to do.

"For ordinary people, facing corrupted Heretics is indeed terrifying. I don’t blame them for that. But they abandoned their teammates—that is unacceptable. Dismiss them. In light of their past contributions, let them resign of their own accord."

Lance didn’t agonize over it. Rules are rules: you’ve enjoyed better treatment than ordinary citizens, gained higher social status, so you must bear the corresponding responsibility.

Once you flee from that responsibility, you’ve already given up on yourself. Lance can’t grant them any kind of pardon—that would be unfair to those who held the line.

At most, considering the hard work they’ve put in, he’ll let them step down on their own and retain some dignity.

At least they hadn’t fled in large numbers; otherwise, if something even worse had erupted, Lance would definitely have needed to make a public example.

"Make preparations. I’m going to visit those police officers and the families of the dead and wounded. We must do a proper job of condolence and compensation... They’re all heroes."

With the situation this critical, Lance has to put in the full performance.

William also took his orders and left. These past days he’d been running himself ragged as well, and he knew many of the officers who had died.

There were young rookies who’d only just joined the force; anyone who made it through the exams was a bright, diligent kid—it takes real determination to memorize that many rules and regulations.

There were also officers who’d been on the job for some time, veterans of a sort, yet still youthful in their teens and twenties—either the pillars of their families or the beloved children at home.

But now they were all gone...

At least they had been in Hamlet. The Lord had not forgotten them.

Task after task was assigned, and in the process Lance learned more about what had happened during his absence.

The others raised problems, and they had all thought through potential solutions. With a few quick exchanges, under Lance’s guidance they soon understood how to proceed.

Lance was like a processor—no matter what problem went in, a reasonable answer came out.

That calm decisiveness let those whose hearts had been shrouded in the black curtain catch a glimpse of light.