Our Family Has Fallen

”He must be presiding over the opening of the celebration.”

”That’s always been the Earl’s job.”

”We’ll find out when the time comes.”

”I think it’s pretty much decided; no heir has performed better than Bruce…”

Bruce had merely passed by and already sparked a great deal of discussion, but just like that, the situation quickly returned to normal.

The bustling traffic of carriages and horses started moving again, with an endless stream of people flowing into Bastia, injecting fresh vitality into the upcoming celebration.

”Miss, look at this!”

”This looks fun too!”

”...”

The celebration hadn’t started yet, but the city was already bustling. Pedestrians came and went on the streets, many of whom bore arms—a testament to the fierce local customs.

Margaret, dressed in hunting attire and carrying a gun, didn’t particularly stand out. In contrast, the lively little maid, bouncing around like a sparrow, was far more excited. She displayed curiosity about everything around her. Despite having attended many times before, she still found it novel and exciting.

There was no helping it. Her life mostly revolved around Margaret, and this was the only time she could reclaim a bit of herself.

Margaret, on the other hand, paid little attention, her gaze sweeping over her surroundings.

In this barren era, even nobles had few entertainment options. So, although Margaret had seemed indifferent before, she actually found it quite interesting and immersed herself in the joyous atmosphere of the celebration.

She was being a little proud, feigning disinterest.

As more and more people entered, and with the tolling of the church bells, everyone naturally gathered towards the square.

Bruce, who had just been wearing armor, had now changed into lavish noble clothing. His appearance instantaneously set the crowd ablaze. The frenzied demeanor of the women even frightened the experienced Guard Knights.

Bruce, however, wore a faint smile as he nodded to the people below the stage. He then began to give the opening speech for today’s celebration.

Such unflappable temperament and crowd-control ability displayed the skills an heir should possess.

”Let’s go,” Margaret said, annoyed at the sight of them. She didn’t bother listening to the drivel and turned to walk elsewhere.

”Ah~ Miss, wait for me!” The little maid had to tear her gaze away and hurriedly followed Margaret.

...

Bruce, who had just eloquently delivered his speech on stage, had no intention of joining the celebration after returning backstage. He left the area directly.

Surrounded by servants and Guards, Bruce entered the castle. The perfunctory smile on his face slowly faded, his demeanor becoming quite cold and stern.

It was clear he wasn’t really interested in these celebrations. His attitude was more about fulfilling a task. In Bastia, only one person could command him.

Maintaining the operation of a castle required many hands. Cleaning alone needed over a dozen servants working day after day. This didn’t even include the various other servants and Guards, numbering at least a hundred, all to serve just a few people.

What is a noble’s dignity? This is a noble’s face. The more powerful nobles are, the more they like to show off their strength in these areas, not caring whether such luxury is necessary.

However, neither the opulent castle nor the bowing and scraping servants along the way made Bruce pause for even a moment. He didn’t even bother to glance at them, his indifference undisguised.

”Mr. Bruce is back!” The butler, dressed in a dignified uniform, beamed.

This time, Bruce finally paused. His tense features relaxed a little as he nodded in response.

”Mmm.”

Here, the only servant who could evoke such an attitude in him was the old butler who had watched him grow up.

”The master is waiting for you in the study.”

”I know.”

Bruce had returned because of his father’s command. Without delay, he reached the study. The grandeur of its door alone, as large as another person’s main entrance, highlighted the disparity.

”Father, I’m back,” Bruce greeted before pushing open the half-closed door and entering. He saw a middle-aged man sitting at a desk, occupied with some task.

Surprisingly, the man known as The Empire’s Fierce Tiger, Count Bastia, who struck terror into the hearts of the Barbarian Tribes, did not possess an exaggerated physique or a ferocious countenance. He looked just like an ordinary, balding middle-aged man.

But Bruce did not relax in the slightest; instead, his demeanor became even more cautious.

In Bastia, no one could shake the Earl’s authority, not even his heir.

”Mmm,” the Earl looked up at Bruce and nodded slightly. ”Come, sit down and talk. What have you accomplished on your journey?”

When the Warwolves invaded, Count Bastia had dispatched Baron Lawrence to lead the Order of Knights, scattering the Warwolf forces in one fell swoop.

Only then had he established Alvin’s leadership, with Lawrence assisting him in leading the Order of Knights in pursuit.

Meanwhile, he had sent Bruce with another Order of Knights to the mountainous borders to intimidate the Barbarian Tribes and show them Bastia’s power.

Bruce sat up straight before the Earl and reported on the mission.

”There were no incidents. The Order of Knights and I patrolled all the border outposts. We also delved deep with the Eagle Flock for reconnaissance and even used merchant caravans to probe into the Mountains. We found that the Barbarian Tribes showed no unusual activity; in fact, they were even more conservative than in previous summers.

Furthermore, those Barbarian Mercenaries seemed to have received messages from their tribes and were keeping a low profile. No one caused trouble, and no one even mentioned the Fang Tribe. I suspect that operation might have been undertaken solely by the Fang Tribe.”

The Earl showed no surprise at this and instead asked, ”Why do you think we struck at the Fang Tribe’s forces?”

Honestly, the Warwolves might be rash, but they are not foolish. They were only passing through the Empire at the time, with no intention of provoking Bastia.

But upon leaving the Mountains, they were immediately spotted and tracked by Bastia’s scouts. Then, the Earl, without any hesitation, directly mobilized the Order of Knights to charge.

”Because of the Deerhead Tribe affair, we lost a very important partner,” Bruce responded. ”Moreover, their actions stirred chaos in the Mountains, causing many members of the Barbarian Tribes to flee, which led to turmoil at the border. They also slaughtered merchant caravans, breaking our agreement with the Barbarian Tribes.

This is a provocation against Bastia! We must teach them a lesson and show those fellows who is in charge here!”

From these words, one could infer Bruce’s stance towards the Barbarian Tribes—he was staunchly hawkish.

”Mmm, that’s correct.” The Earl nodded, seemingly satisfied, and added, ”Those Barbarian Tribes have been docile for many years, but you must never be fooled by the facade they present. They are merely lying low and observing.

If the Fang Tribe could genuinely challenge us, those other Barbarian Tribes wouldn’t hesitate to bare their fangs at Bastia. They’ve been waiting for such an opportunity for far too long.”

Sometimes, your opponent understands you better than you understand yourself.

He had dealt with those Barbarian Tribes his entire life. In his view, they were like wild beasts: only strength could make them submit. If the reins on their necks loosened even slightly, they would turn and bite.

Whatever the Fang Tribe’s reasons for their actions, it was undeniably a test for Bastia—or, to put it more strongly, a provocation. Choosing such a sensitive time inevitably made the Earl suspicious.

He was actually pleased to see them fighting amongst themselves within the Mountains. However, once they ventured into his territory, the Fang Tribe had to be taught a lesson.

So, he chose the most direct method: the Order of Knights charged!

The fact that the Barbarian Tribes didn’t react under his pressure, and even proactively withdrew, further confirmed his understanding.

Barbarians only understand the fist.

However, since the Deerhead Tribe was mentioned, the Earl couldn’t help but ask, ”Is there still no news of that Priest from the Deerhead Tribe?”

”None. We’ve been searching continuously, but it’s as if the person vanished into the Mountains.”

Speaking of this, Bruce couldn’t help but frown. The fact that the Warwolves were tracked the moment they emerged from the Mountains demonstrated Bastia’s control over its territory.

After news of the Deerhead Tribe’s misfortune spread, not only were the Warwolves searching for the Priest, but Bastia’s forces were as well. The reasons for this were self-evident.

”Keep looking.”

”Yes, sir!”