Our Family Has Fallen

Chapter 94: Chapter 94: Past Events_1

”Hey brother! Come over here.”

A man saw the captain sitting forlornly to one side, out of place amid the lively atmosphere, and took the initiative to invite him over.

The captain took a moment to realize the man was calling him. Since he didn’t know the man, he planned to refuse. Unexpectedly, the man came straight over, half-pulling and half-dragging him to the drinking table.

”Here! Pour a cup for my brother.”

With a wave and a shout from the man, someone immediately brought over a large wooden mug. Golden ale sloshed inside, creating a thick froth as the aroma of malt filled the air.

The captain licked his lips involuntarily at the sight. He recalled how he used to relax in taverns with his subordinates; since his fall from grace, it had been some time since he last had a drink.

Yet at that moment, he awkwardly waved his hand.

”I have no money...”

”Hahaha, of course, it’s on me!” The man beside him laughed heartily, clapping the captain on the shoulder. ”You’re a hero! How could we let you pay?”

Hero?

The captain froze when he heard this word, unsure of the last time he’d been described that way.

In his heightened state of sensitivity, he instinctively shied away from their enthusiasm, raising his hand to decline. ”I am no hero...”

”How can you not be a hero? If it weren’t for you, that scoundrel would have succeeded.”

”That’s right. It was you who stepped up and stopped him.”

”Exactly! That was quite a blow you gave him.”

”Here, a toast to you.”

The others at the table chimed in, but their words of praise were bitter to the captain’s ears.

He had originally entered the battlefield in search of honor, yet he never imagined he would be recognized at a time like this.

Why? Why!

The captain grew to hate the person he had once been even more. Wasn’t I a glorious warrior of the Empire? How could I have done such things for my own selfish desires?

”I don’t deserve to be called a hero. I’ve let you all down...”

The captain found it hard to articulate his feelings of regret. Not daring to acknowledge his past actions, he escaped by lifting the mug before him and downing it in one gulp.

”Good!”

”My treat! A drink for our hero.”

The others, having had a few drinks and already somewhat intoxicated, hadn’t heard the captain’s words. They just kept pouring and drinking.

Dismas and a few others were playing cards. Balistan was at a table, drinking heavily with some men. Only Reynard, having removed his armor, sat to the side.

Lance didn’t directly join in the singing and revelries. His current status would only spoil their fun, and he wasn’t fond of flattering words either.

Taking the chance to relax, he decided to set up a barbecue stand and cook himself.

One pig certainly wasn’t enough for hundreds of people, so there were also smoked wolf meat and fish.

Ever since he took down the Ship Boss and gained control of the docks, the fish catch had increased, naturally driving prices down. Now, the townspeople might not be able to afford pork, but they could eat fish.

As for beef and mutton, only Lord Lance and his privileged few had access to it.

The sizzling, greasy kebabs smelled irresistible. Just a sprinkle of salt, and they would be ready to eat.

”Come, try this.”

Lance handed over half of the skewer. His action snapped the dazed Reynard back to reality.

”Thank you, my Lord.”

”If you want to go have some fun, then go on.”

”No, I just remembered something,” Reynard said, his expression somewhat distant, as if recalling past events.

”Do you mind telling me about it?” Lance tended to the skewer in his hand, his tone calm, not so much inquiring as making idle conversation.

Reynard hesitated for a moment, then looked at the Lord and asked, ”My Lord, do you believe in God?”

Lance also hesitated for a few seconds upon hearing this but did not answer directly. Instead, he countered with a question. ”Why do you ask?”

Sensing that Reynard was not as devout towards the Church as he appeared, Lance probed, ”Tell me, what made your faith waver?”

Reynard was silent for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts or recalling memories.

”I was born in a very ordinary town...”

Lance listened quietly. Reynard spoke of his parents being devout believers of the Church, living in a household with a strong religious atmosphere. From a very young age, his parents had sent him to study the Holy Canon at the Church school.

That life was hardly enjoyable. Anyone who could not recite the holy laws would be whipped, as would those who did not heed the Priest’s words. He had also seen many children dragged into small, dark rooms by Priests, their terrified screams emerging from behind closed doors.

He had suffered greatly at the Church school. Every time he begged his parents to take him away, they refused, which at one point made him hate them intensely.

That strained relationship continued even after he grew up, got married, and had children. However, he had indeed become a follower of the Church. In his youth, he was even fervent, abiding by the Holy Canon and treating its holy laws as his doctrine.

When the Church issued the call to crusade, he did not hesitate. He left his wife and children behind, sold most of the family assets to acquire a horse and a Longsword, and joined the Church’s expedition.

Initially, he set out in pursuit of Holy Light and glory. He bravely led the charge on the crusade, killing countless enemies for the Church and capturing one city after another.

He rose from a mere foot soldier to become the leader of tens of thousands, his shoulder armor adorned with various medals of honor.

Only when his religious fervor faded did he begin to see the true nature of the crusade.

The Church Priests were amassing wealth like mad; boxes of Gold Coins and antiques were carted away.

The Church Knights raised their blades in ruthless slaughter, indifferent that those they killed were unarmed civilians.

The Crusaders committed rape and pillage, perpetrating one unspeakable atrocity after another.

These experiences led him to question whether his actions were just and whether the Holy Light had abandoned them.

But the Priests still wielded Divine Arts to heal pain, and Knights still drew upon the power of their faith.

Despite their heinous deeds, the Holy Light still shone upon these men.

This revelation shook Reynard’s faith. However, his childhood experiences left him too terrified to defy the Church’s orders, so he simply obeyed.

Tormented by guilt, he wanted to help those suffering, but he had no money.

All the spoils of the crusade were taken by the Church; what the Crusaders received was only faith and death.

To get money, Reynard often hid spoils of war to aid ordinary people, until these acts of charity were discovered.

Yet, in the eyes of the sinning Allied Army of the Church—notorious for rape, pillage, murder, and arson—Reynard’s stealing was unacceptable. Coupled with his waning bravery in battle, they used this as a pretext. They accused him of the vice of theft, of defiling the Holy Light, and ultimately cast him out of the Legion.