Our Family Has Fallen

If you want a horse to run, you’ve got to feed it well.

Paracelsus couldn’t just collapse from exhaustion; Lance was still waiting for her to do research, so it was necessary to strengthen her constitution.

Upon returning to the sanatorium, Lance quickly glanced over the incomplete autopsy reports on the Pigmen, which were indeed quite fascinating.

The Elder was truly a genius in some respects; it was a pity his talents were misapplied.

Leaving behind a few relatively well-preserved Barbarian corpses, Lance then left the place.

It was only when he sat down at home that the exhaustion surged over him, and he slumped into his chair, displaying none of the ease he had shown on the outside.

Wang Cai seemed to sense Lance’s tiredness and materialized from the air. It had become increasingly adept at handling its purely spiritual body, moving effortlessly between the tangible world and other dimensions.

Lance was by no means polite about it, comfortably leaning against Wang Cai just as they had when camping in the wilderness.

Without the prickly heat and stench of fur, it felt as soft as a marshmallow; half of Lance’s body sank into it, as if leaning against a cloud.

”You little rascal, tell me what you’ve been up to outside? How did you manage to ruin your body? If I had been any later...”

Lance closed his eyes, mumbling disconnected words, but soon fell silent and slipped into sleep.

He had just returned from the Beast Lair, planning to lay low for a few days, when a major event suddenly occurred: the Warwolf Invasion. After fighting off the Warwolf and then the Bastia Order of Knights, Heretics also seized the opportunity amidst the chaos to attack various places in Hamlet. This forced him to rush back and forth to stabilize the situation, which had only just begun to show signs of improvement.

He was also human; he got tired too...

Wang Cai looked at the man leaning against it, filled with many emotions. Though it no longer needed sleep and felt no fatigue, it still nestled close to him, reminiscing about that familiar feeling.

Susan, holding the breakfast that had been ready for a while, came in to find the Lord asleep like this and felt a pang of pity.

Others might not be aware, but as someone who regularly interacted with the Lord, she knew just how much he had sacrificed for Hamlet.

She took careful steps to leave without making a sound.

After a busy morning, Master Lan still hadn’t managed to eat breakfast...

Lance stood up and stretched, easing the pressure from his body.

This afternoon nap was extremely comfortable; Lance hadn’t expected that he, as a Lord, would reach the point where even taking a nap was a luxury.

All because of that damn Elder.

If only the old man had worked harder, then he, the Heir, would only need to live a decadent, corrupt life of a noble, filled with eating, drinking, and merrymaking.

Lance had been quite relaxed, but the thought instantly reinforced his resolve to bring down the Elder.

Damn you! You squandered the family fortune on debauchery, faked your death, and ran away, leaving me to clean up this mess?

Don’t let me catch you, or I’ll surely give you a proper thrashing!

There was a clear air of fury on Lance’s face, but it dissipated when he saw Susan.

One must distinguish between reality and illusion, and also between targets. He wouldn’t take out his feelings on others, especially not those close to him.

Susan seemed to have been waiting outside the entire time. Seeing Lance finally awake, she hurried in with a sympathetic expression, bringing the breakfast that was now more suitable for afternoon tea.

”My Lord, a woman named Amanda has come to see you; I stopped her, and she has been waiting outside for quite a while now,” she said.

Lance knew she did it to avoid waking him. ”Let her in,” he said with a chuckle, waving his hand. ”After all, visitors are guests. Don’t keep her waiting too long.”

Susan seemed a bit surprised by the Lord’s improved mood but didn’t ask further and nodded before stepping out of the room.

Soon, Lance heard a RAP-TAP-TAP of footsteps. A pair of long, wheat-colored legs wrapped in high-top leather boots strode through the doorway, followed by Amanda entering the room, walking somewhat ”shakily.”

Lance sized her up. She was indeed a striking presence, and he couldn’t help but nod with a smile. ”I can see the great contributions you’ve made to Hamlet! And they are very large!” he declared. Saying this, he reached out and picked up the soft white bread. ”It really is big and soft,” he mused.

”I did nothing at all, it’s all thanks to your efforts, sir. Who could believe such a powerful monster could fall at your hands, and those well-equipped knights were vanquished by you?”

Amanda’s face was naturally seductive, and her smile was even more enticing. She also had a silver tongue, lavishing praise that was hard not to find pleasant. It was no surprise that Tamara had warned Lance of her ”danger” before she left.

But in response to her comments, Lance merely smiled and gestured with his hand.

”Tell me, what is it that you want?”

His saying this was actually somewhat cold, as if he wanted to settle any obligations quickly, which was far from his usual method of winning people over.

Moreover, his attention was mostly on the white bread in front of him; his manner of eating also imparted an air of disregard.

It wasn’t that Grendel’s warning had made him suddenly repent, nor was it Tamara’s caution before she left. Rather, Lance had always harbored misgivings about Amanda being a Romani.

Whether it was a stereotype or racial discrimination, every Romani he had encountered had given him an impression of untrustworthiness, and Tamara was no exception.

So, since this was a transaction, he preferred to stick to facts rather than get involved emotionally.

Amanda sensed his attitude, and the smile on her face stiffened, a sense of loss inevitably arising in her heart.

How come you trust someone like Tamara, but not me?

Still, she had helped him considerably, and Lance wasn’t one to kick away the ladder after he had climbed it, so he decided to lay things out openly.

”Let me give you a piece of advice: you Romani go too far in your doings. It’s not that we aren’t giving you a chance to live, but remember, some things should be done in moderation.”

Upon hearing these words, Amanda’s seductive face involuntarily wrinkled, and she couldn’t help but retort, ”Tamara is also Romani. Why is she allowed then?”

”Tamara is different; I have come to an understanding with her,” Lance said calmly, as if anticipating her reaction, and he emphasized, ”And she loves Hamlet.”

Amanda felt like she’d heard some kind of joke. Did she not know what kind of person Tamara was? How could such a selfish person truly love a place? It was nothing more than a transaction between them.

”I can negotiate, and I can love Hamlet too.”

”What is your status in the organization? She is the next Astrologer, a destined extraordinary legend.”

”My talent is no less than hers; I too can become a legend,” Amanda argued defensively. Why could Tamara, and not her?

”Let’s discuss that when you become a legend,” Lance said indifferently, glancing at her calmly.

Amanda paused, struck by his words. It was simple to say, but in reality, converting talent into strength required resources.

Tamara’s talent was stronger than hers, but after leaving the organization, she quickly became no match for Amanda. The root cause was the resource problem.

But now the tables had turned. Tamara returned to the organization and received a disproportionate share of resources for focused training.

And what about her?

The only reason she currently had any influence was because the Romani from the Empire’s northeastern territories needed to evacuate through this region. The deal their Elder had negotiated previously had not yet been fulfilled.

These people had to travel from Hamlet by boat to Totnes, then transfer to peaceful places around the world not ravaged by war, where the situation was stable.

Amanda was keenly aware that once the Romani within the Empire’s borders pulled out, she would be left as a commander without an army. Even contacting the organization would require the artifacts and secret techniques left by the Elder.

It could be said that the organization had little faith in the Empire. They were even considering not investing resources here to reestablish the Necromancy system until after the war ended and the situation stabilized.

But nobody knew how long the war would last. To Amanda, it seemed normal for it to drag out for a decade or two, given that neither side had an absolute advantage.

In this position, she, the person in charge, would be effectively trapped here, with the organization exiling her to please Tamara.

This was the core reason Amanda was so eager to cling to Lance’s coattails. She found it difficult to obtain resources for growth from the organization. To avoid being dealt with by Tamara, she desperately needed to find another backer.