Our Family Has Fallen

When Grendel turned around, she saw Lance leading a horse, appearing a bit nonchalant, but without the exhaustion from being overly tired late at night.

She worried he hadn’t rested well, but judging by his appearance, it didn’t seem like he’d been working hard, leaving what he was doing open to question.

”Where did you go last night?” Grendel looked at Lance with a strange gaze.

If Lance knew what she was thinking, he’d definitely protest and correct her judgment.

This is an unequivocal frame-up!

He almost ran his horse to death last night trying to clean up those thugs.

The reason he doesn’t appear tired now is solely because of his robust physique, having more energy than a regular person. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to pull all-nighters and still be so vigorous.

Since becoming a [Champion], he is beyond the limitations of humans. Strictly speaking, sleep is no longer as important to him; after all, hasn’t Alhazred gone all these years without sleep without any issues?

The true fatigue he feels is more from the mental pressure.

When Grendel asked about it, Lance seemed to remember something, and his casual demeanor subconsciously subsided as he waved his hand.

”Susan, prepare breakfast. I’m hungry.”

With that, he released the horse’s reins and walked in by himself, finding a place to sprawl out without intending to say more.

Laura mentioned over two thousand, nearly three thousand refugees, but only a bit over a thousand reached Hamlet.

Even accounting for the several hundred eliminated by Bruce, there are at least a thousand still scattered around Hamlet.

It’s undeniably disgusting how Count Bastia slipped in mobs among them.

Among these, genuine mobs might only number two or three hundred, but they stirred up other refugees, successfully dragging them down to become looters.

The only upside is that they are still new and haven’t completely dispersed; Lance consecutively eliminated over three groups of looters numbering over a hundred each, while the scattered ones are too many to count.

Running along, he found two small towns of about a hundred people each massacred and countless villages vanished into the wilderness.

When he activated his [Bloodhound Tracking] ability to search, the air in every direction was filled with the stench of blood.

It’s only been three days!

It’s safe to say that with those killed by Bruce included, at least a thousand people have died.

He finally understood why a corrupting wind was suddenly blowing in Hamlet and why the power of the ancestors grew unexpectedly stronger.

He killed three to four hundred looters last night alone, but it was merely a case of mending the fence after the sheep are gone, dealing with them before they spread and cause greater damage.

Grendel walked in, and though Lance didn’t look at her, he asked this question.

”Did I make a grave mistake…?”

”What happened?”

Grendel approached, stood behind him, and started massaging his temples slowly, a refreshing floral scent wafting gently, making one relax involuntarily.

Lance briefly explained the conspiracy behind the refugees and the resulting consequences.

He thought he had let it go, but those scenes were hard to forget.

Hearing this, Grendel finally understood what happened last night, facing that tragedy directly and enduring the suffering caused by others, she felt deeply touched.

”You’ve done your best. This isn’t something you can control.” Grendel leaned in slightly, hugging Lance’s head from behind, her cheek resting gently atop it, soft words drifting over, ”What you need now is rest~”

Lance instinctively nuzzled against the softness, just feeling the floral scent invading his nostrils, like lying in a field full of blooming flowers, warm sunlight spreading over it, a scene full of vitality…

The whole person relaxed, as though healed by nature, reducing the pressure.

But Lance didn’t indulge, quickly becoming alert again, raising a hand to pat her arm, signaling her to release him.

”I’m okay, but it’s not time to rest yet.”

Grendel sensibly withdrew her arms without any intention to entangle, circling to the front, and curiously asked a question.

”What’s with those women you brought back last night?”

”A gift from Laura of the Eagle Flock~” Lance finally smiled as he spoke

This is the only good news in this entire ordeal.

Laura’s experiences carry a somewhat tragic hue, and Lance doesn’t usually share other’s privacy lightly, especially about reopening old wounds.

Omitting Laura’s backstory, he simply said that Amanda’s captured Eagle Flock was turned against itself, providing him with a big gift.

”Baron Lawrence only has one daughter, and now she’s come to Hamlet herself; I can only call it fate.”

Grendel knew Lance had no intention of letting Lawrence go, the best scenario being lifetime captivity, possibly even ending as an experiment for Paracelsus.

But the current situation is a bit delicate.

”And the other one?” Unable to resist, Grendel grew more curious about the identity of the person taken with Margaret.

At this, even Lance was taken aback, ”I don’t know her either, I don’t even know her name.”