Our Family Has Fallen-Chapter 40: Training_1

Humans are both very fragile and very resilient creatures, like the weeds by the roadside that, no matter how many times they are trampled, will always grow towards the light as long as their roots remain.

Lance sent Dismas off early in the morning and then began to patrol the town.

Everywhere he went, the people welcomed him wholeheartedly. It was a vibrant scene, as if he were the favorite of the people, with life and vigor flourishing before his eyes.

The people supported him because their lives had indeed improved, and the promises he made had been fulfilled.

The prices posted in the grain shop were affordable to everyone, and every morning all the workers could get a dark bread roll and a bowl of coarse grain porridge with bits of fish in it.

With full stomachs, they all had the energy to work and looked forward to their reward at night.

The current focus was to dismantle those collapsed and abandoned buildings, clear out the construction materials within them, and then renovate some of the existing buildings.

The war with the bandits wasn’t over yet, and there was always the chance they would suffer in an attack, so there was no intention of constructing new buildings—it was all about renovating the old ones.

The sanatorium was turned into a prison, the Mercenary Guild into a city hall, the brothel into an inn, and the church into an auditorium, and so on.

The goal was to prop up a town framework that could meet most needs.

But there was one place that was newly built.

That was the training ground.

Lance simply allocated a plot of land at the entrance of the town for training soldiers. It didn’t require much hassle—just leveling a piece of ground, placing training props on it, and building high walls around the perimeter.

This served as both a lookout post and a bunker, his first line of defense against external enemies.

Of course, this was still in progress, and it would take time to complete.

Now, the new recruits were training on another plot of vacant land. Lance approached and watched the young men training under the direction of Balistan.

Their breakfast that day was fish porridge with milk. Some had long forgotten the sweetness of milk, while others had never even tasted it before.

And the instructor had said those who performed well in training would be rewarded with an egg that evening, further fueling their enthusiasm.

"Good day, Lord," Balistan greeted, and the new recruits also shouted with all their might, as if they wanted Lance to remember them.

"Good day, Lord!"

Lance glanced over the new recruits, who seemed to be in decent shape. He had mainly selected the children of farmers and fishermen, people who had experienced hardship and hunger. They could handle this level of training intensity.

But he could not accept it!

The bandits were close by and could attack at any moment. With this kind of training, in ten days or half a month, they’d be at the level of farm Guards—hardly fit to be fodder.

"The enemies you will face are very strong, and you are Hamlet’s shield. Do you think you can protect your homes with this level of skill?"

Lance bellowed, his tone incredibly stern, "Double all training intensity!"

This command directly scared the new recruits witless. What did it mean to double the training? Was that even humanly possible?

Balistan was also puzzled. He, too, wanted to increase training intensity, but these men were in such poor shape they wouldn’t withstand such treatment.

"Each person gets an additional egg and a cup of milk per day. The one with the best training results each day is rewarded with five copper coins, the second-best with three copper coins, and the third-best with one copper coin.

Those who do not complete their training will be put under review, and if they fail three times, they will be eliminated directly."

Lance’s subsequent conditions immediately sparked their motivation. The chance to eat eggs and milk, not to mention receive money for training—such treatment was something they had never heard of.

Balistan watched the new recruits, who had gone from dead silence to eager anticipation, and could only marvel that the Lord had so much money; in all his years as a soldier, he had never heard of such treatment. But Lance hadn’t finished speaking. He then announced another piece of news.

"Lastly, I will join the training myself."

At this, both Balistan and the new recruits were utterly shocked.

That was My Lord, after all; when did nobility ever mix with common folk?

Balistan also sensed something was off. He had thought Lance was only making a gesture for show and quickly stepped in to offer a way out.

"My Lord, you are busy with state affairs; such matters of training are still..."

But Lance raised his hand to refuse before he could finish. "No need to say more. Treat me the same as them. Train me as you train them."

Balistan could tell that the Lord was not joking, but seriously intending to participate in the training.

Balistan had only heard of My Lord’s noble qualities from others. Now, he truly felt how different Lance was from other nobles. It was no wonder Dismas and Reynard were willing to loyally serve such a lord in decline, bravely confronting evil.

Originally joining out of gratitude and a thirst for battle, Balistan suddenly had a new insight and nodded in agreement.

"Join the ranks."

Lance wasted no time in joining the ranks; he was indeed not there for a show.

In both his past and current life, he had lived in the city since childhood, well-fed and well-clothed, without much hardship. But to survive in this world, one must learn to fight.

Whether it was the ambush on the old road or the series of encounters that followed, these experiences made him realize something important. He could not rely solely on the effects of his "panel"; he also had to learn how to convert the "panel’s" abilities into his own actual strength.

Although Lance’s body was weaker compared to Reynard and the others, he still stood out among these common people like a crane among chickens.

And those new recruits, seeing Lance joining them, also became very nervous, having never imagined that nobility would train alongside them; they trained even harder.

On a flat piece of ground, people were gathered in a circle. In the center, two individuals were dueling with longswords.

Swords danced in the air, and the sound of clashing blades was incessant, with each impressive move sparking cheers from the onlookers.

It looked intense, but everyone could tell the situation was one-sided.

One stood still, immovable as a mountain, his movements casual as if he were playing a game.

The other, in contrast, breathed erratically, his steps fierce but messy, and his forceful slashes were all blocked.

It seemed the patient duelist had had enough; after blocking a strike, his steady swordsmanship suddenly became aggressive. With a simple and unadorned thrust, he overpowered his opponent, the sword tip stopping just before the neck.

"My Lord wins!"

When victory was declared, cheers immediately erupted from the crowd. The man standing in the center was none other than Lance.

After several days of intense training, Lance had shed his previously delicate appearance. His facial contours were now prominent, giving him a sunny and resolute look. His physique had also become robust, with visible muscles on his arms.

The price was that he had become a bit tanner, but this only made him appear more mature, far from his prior scholarly demeanor.

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