Our Family Has Fallen

Chapter 307: Chapter 230: Go up and slap him twice_1

”Damn it! I am the Lord of Hamlet!” When had the fat man ever suffered such an insult? This, coupled with the extreme emotions transformed from the inferiority complex of being looked down upon by others, completely set him off.

”Knights, take him down! I’ll show him how formidable I am!”

The fat man pointed at Dismas, shouting furiously at Reynard.

But there was only silence; no one responded to him. The field fell into an eerie silence.

In his view, the astonished expressions on the soldiers’ faces were a sign of reverence for his identity—he was a Noble, after all!

The silence of the soldiers was indeed largely due to the shock of his claim to be the Heir. But this didn’t mean the soldiers were afraid. On the contrary, it was the beginning of their anger.

This guy actually dared to impersonate the Lord and was running wild here.

”This is blasphemy!”

”Kill him!”

”Hang his head in the square!”

Someone shouted, and the soldiers instantly erupted. Filled with indignant fury, they all clamored to kill these people, their voices a rising cacophony. If not for the strict military discipline, they probably would have rushed up to finish them off by now.

The sudden uprising finally made the fat man realize that something was wrong. He hurriedly hid behind two Knights, but no matter where he turned among the surrounding crowd, he saw angry faces wanting to kill him.

The two Knights who had followed the fat man’s father had some skill and the pioneering spirit to come over.

Initially, they were somewhat pleased to see these robust soldiers. They thought that when the new Lord assumed power, the old Knights would have to retire, leaving them to take charge of the soldiers. But when the conflict erupted, they too realized that things were getting out of control—if these soldiers started a fight, we probably wouldn’t stand a chance...

The ones who were angriest were definitely Reynard and the men who had started their careers with Lance.

What kind of man was their own Lord? In any situation, he was calm and composed, always at the forefront, kind to his own and formidable to his enemies. Not like this guy at all. In a crisis, he panicked, let others take the brunt, and could only curse and swear, without a shred of ability.

Seeing this man’s behavior, looks of disgust emerged on the faces of Reynard and his companions.

Sometimes, being by the side of the Lord for too long, they even forgot what the nobles of the Empire were like. Today served as a stark reminder.

However, they did not rashly take action; instead, they controlled their soldiers.

The clothes on these people didn’t look fake, and ordinary mercenaries couldn’t afford such expensive Knight’s Armor.

They were somewhat wary of nobles, and reason told Reynard that it would be better to inform the Lord to handle the situation.

”Silence! How did I teach you?”

”You forget the rules at the slightest provocation?”

”What if this is a trap deliberately set by the enemy to infuriate you?”

Reynard spoke up. He used the incident to restore order to the army, warning them that anger can make one lose reason and blind warriors.

The restlessness in the army was quelled, but the soldiers’ angry expressions remained.

The pressure of being surrounded but unattacked was so intense that even the two Knights were struggling to cope, let alone the fat man.

However, this attitude gave the fat man the wrong signal: they didn’t dare touch him.

Right, I’m a Noble! If these lowly commoners dared to touch me, they would only find death!

Believing he had seen through these commoners, the fat man began to curse loudly again, venting his panic.

”You damn peasants, I am a Noble; how dare you treat me this way? Lay down your weapons now, or I will kill you all!”

”You’re going to kill who?”

A voice cut through the air. Everyone in the army turned to look, followed by a chorus of greetings.

”My Lord!”

This call surprised the fat man. The Lord here is already dead, and I’m the rightful Heir to the lordship. Why would these people call out for a Lord?

Damn it! Someone must be impersonating me and stealing my noble identity! No wonder these commoners dared to doubt me!

The fat man looked over, his eyes filled with resentment.

He saw the dense army ranks part in an orderly fashion, revealing a tall, imposing young man with a large white wolf at his side.

The fat man had never seen such a fearsome beast; the flesh on his face trembled as the wolf’s eyes met his.

Seeing the Lord arrive, Reynard quickly dismounted. He approached and rapidly summarized the situation in a few words.

Lance’s gaze shifted from the fat man to the soldier who had been brutally beaten.

It was clear that the soldier’s head had been kicked hard. His face bore scrapes from being pressed to the ground, his nose was bleeding, and his eyes were shot with dense blood vessels. He was dazed and unable to focus—a clear sign of a concussion.

Lance quickly went to help him sit up. He took the opportunity to activate Flesh Reconstruction. The powerful ability smoothed over his most serious injuries, leaving only minor surface wounds.

The soldier felt the pain recede inexplicably. As his blurry vision slowly cleared, he saw the Lord’s face.

”Are you alright?”

”My Lord... I failed to complete the mission...” The soldier’s eyes moistened at that moment.

He was but fourteen years old. He had desperately tried to stop the intruders on his own, but clearly, he was no match for the two Guards.

”No, you did well,” Lance said, wiping the shoe print from his face with a gesture that clearly showed his concern.