Our Family Has Fallen

Chapter 438: Chapter 287: Restarting the Research on the Witch’s Legacy_1

After Paracelsus developed a specific drug for the withering disease, the great development truly began.

The farms being burnt down actually liberated these laborers from farming and animal husbandry.

Lance could assign them work that was more arduous, more difficult, and more dangerous.

If he had spent money to hire people to develop the wilderness, he would have lost a lot. But now, he had a vast amount of labor without spending a penny.

Primitive accumulation had always been built upon exploitation, whether of outsiders or one’s own people.

The good days of Hamlet’s people were due to these ’expendables’ bearing the burdens for them; otherwise, where would such high welfare come from?

Lance’s sudden and unexpected appearance was a momentous event for the serfs toiling away.

They didn’t know why he had appeared, nor did they know why he came from the wilderness, but they knew Lord Lance had not forgotten them.

Most of those here had committed crimes. The largest group consisted of the few hundred people who had robbed the caravan on the road, only to be defeated by Lance and dragged here to labor as atonement.

To be honest, many among these people harbored no hostility towards Lance, their Lord; instead, they felt a certain gratitude.

This wasn’t sarcasm, but a very realistic reason.

The reason was that being a serf here was better than being a refugee outside. They had to constantly work for exploiters either way; here, they simply had a different master.

Moreover, previously, they couldn’t even get enough to eat and also had to endure various insults.

Here, at least, the food wasn’t too bad, and from time to time, they even had some fish, meat, and oil.

The place had long since moved beyond the initial chaos and become systematically managed.

It seemed that even the managers needed to follow the rules. Those who had bullied them before were now either dead or working just like them.

Of course, the most important aspect was that here, they could see hope. As long as they performed well, it was possible to leave this place and become one of Hamlet’s People.

They should have died on the road fleeing from disaster, but now they could still survive. What more could they ask for?

Sometimes, it was just a world of comparing miseries. It wasn’t that Lance was extraordinarily kind to them, but that other people were simply too outrageous.

Lance surveyed the area and was quite satisfied with the situation. This couldn’t be achieved by mere show, because the progress of the work was visible. For this reason, he didn’t mind giving those people a little incentive.

”When this project ends, I will grant amnesty to the thirty people who perform the best.”

This promise caused an immense stir among the people, motivating them to work harder more than any other news could.

For a while, the serfs erupted in a tsunami of praise for Lance’s benevolence.

Lance, however, merely waved his hand.

”Work hard, and life will get better and better.”

Having walked for half the day and now back here, even Lance was too lazy to walk further, opting to ride back on an ox cart used for transporting charcoal.

It was essentially a flatbed wagon pulled by an ox. Horses were scarce in town, as all had been conscripted by him; even inferior horses were being used for training.

This action almost made Geralt lose his composure.

It wasn’t that he disdained the ox cart; being someone who traveled extensively, he didn’t care about such things. But, Lord, you are a nobleman after all. Is it really appropriate to do this? Shouldn’t a noble’s identity and honor be what matters most to them? Riding in an ox-drawn cart, one used for hauling charcoal no less, with traces of black coal dust remaining—such a thing should surely be unacceptable for a noble.

Yet this Lord looked so natural, leaning back against the wolf, legs crossed and eyes closed in rest, appearing quite at ease.

The ox cart stopped at the entrance to his residence, and Lance finally awoke. Boudica had hopped off halfway, presumably heading for the tavern again.

Lance didn’t pay her any mind. After two days of hard work, she deserved some enjoyment.

”Come on in,” Lance beckoned the two to enter. He then saw two nomadic merchants’ wagons in the front yard.

They should have been released today. Why haven’t they left?

Lance’s steps faltered slightly, but he paid it no mind and continued walking in.

”Mission complete. Here is your reward.” Without any nonsense, he directly handed the mission rewards to the two of them.

Geralt received a hefty bag of Gold Coins, while Junia received only three.

But even those three Gold Coins were a fortune to her; it was the first time she had held so much money.

”You both must be tired. Rest for now. You can get to know Hamlet better before we talk in detail.”

Lance had no intention of pushing them further, instead giving them a chance to recover.

Geralt left quite freely. The Lord is truly generous, he thought. These Gold Coins will last me for some time. I wonder if there are certain... services in town?

Junia, still mindful of the debts she owed to the inn and school, also quickly left, eager to repay them.

After they departed, Lance finally let out a breath and collapsed into a chair.

Damn it all, he thought, slumping further. After half a day of such anxiety, just when I thought everything was resolved, the journey back nearly ended in disaster. Pushing Junia away had indeed been an instinctive reaction; I’ve witnessed the power of such Sorcery before. Even someone as physically formidable as I am nearly didn’t withstand it. Junia would likely have died from a single strike.