Our Family Has Fallen-Chapter 795 - 461: Shepherding_2
When Laura noticed this scene, she understood why the knights didn't intervene in the disturbance.
Because today they were to cross the border into Hamlet, but the soldiers did not join them.
They were to head towards the Barbarian Tribes under Bruce's leadership.
Although Hamlet had been a hot topic these past few days, and everyone knew about it—even she heard about it while buying medicine for her injuries.
But as nice as that sounded, the refugees weren't fools; if things weren't right, they might just turn around and flee back the way they came.
And last night's massacre was to address this problem, with the Order of Knights giving their answer with the lance.
It served as a warning to the refugees about the fate of those who tried to come back.
Laura even suspected the disturbance was instigated by the Eagle Flock hiding among them, because the timing was too perfect.
Did those knights ever take off their armor to sleep?
Why did those soldiers take their positions in advance?
Moreover, the way the troops were stationed resembled a tightened pocket; no wonder not a single person escaped from such a severe riot.
Everything seemed like a performance, scripted in advance.
But of course, Laura wouldn't say anything about that; she would just dutifully carry out her tasks.
Indeed, as they crossed into Bastia's domain, many of the refugees became restless.
Many of those who had survived last night's disturbance were clever, and they started making their moves as soon as they noticed that the Order of Knights and the army were not following.
New rumors began to spread among the refugees, but last night's slaughter still had a deterrent effect, and nobody dared to stray.
Besides, there was a caravan of over a hundred vehicles behind them, and those people were soldiers ready for combat at a moment's notice.
However, this situation gradually diminished after half a day, as they realized that the caravan didn't seem too concerned about them.
As night fell, people started to escape; the first to do so was quickly followed by a second, a third...
When the watching mob realized the caravan truly didn't care, a large-scale desertion soon occurred.
Come dawn, that huge group had halved in size—at least a thousand people had scattered into Hamlet Territory under the cover of darkness.
Laura watched this scene with a somewhat gloomy expression; she wasn't concerned about the criminals infiltrating Hamlet and causing disaster.
She was simply upset that her painstakingly prepared "gifts" would now go to far fewer people, as she found many of the targets she had been watching had disappeared.
The refugees who remained were mostly those who held unrealistic fantasies about Hamlet.
Or more accurately, they lacked the strength to struggle and were habitually following the convoy.
Habit is a terrifying thing, or more accurately, "numbness."
Numbness can completely erode a person's soul, turning them into zombies like the others.
But who cared?
The journey resumed, pressing onward.
It was just that it was daytime, nothing more.
「......」
"Finally out," Lance lifted his hand to flip open the coffin lid and stepped out, carrying someone on his back.
When he saw the surrounding environment, he couldn't help but exclaim, "No wonder it wasn't discovered; these mass graveyards are the perfect cover."
Here, numerous disordered crosses and gravestones haphazardly littered the area. The wooden ones were mostly rotten away, leaving only withered, decayed wood, while the stone ones still remained.
The whole area had over a hundred chaotic burial mounds, many with coffins dug up, with weeds and shrubs growing in between.
Amanda and Alhazred also followed his steps, emerging from a half-buried coffin.
The bottom of this coffin had been broken through, and below, a tunnel had been dug out, connecting directly to a corner of the Beast Lair.
Emerging from the sunless Beast Lair, thankfully, it was only early morning and the sunlight wasn't too intense, which spared them from too much of a shock.
"Uh..." Boudica seemed to wake up, looking dazedly around her.
"This route is twice as fast as the one we took going in. It's not far from here to the outpost; we will be home soon."
Boudica's constitution was still sturdy. Although there were no signs of her condition improving, the high fever had subsided, and she was slowly waking up.
However, with illnesses like this, no one could predict if it was just a brief rally. Not wanting to delay further, Lance gave a simple explanation and continued onward.
Amanda watched the figure ahead. What she had witnessed on this journey had deeply changed her impression of him.
Initially, when she observed the Warwolf's incursions, she hadn't understood why his followers faced death so fearlessly; after all, Boudica had been the first to charge the Limping Walker.
They feared no enemy, not even the Void Demons.
Now she understood.
After a fierce battle with a Void Demon, he was still able to carry a person on his back and single-handedly fight his way out of the Beast Lair.
For the remaining half of the journey, neither she nor the Scholar had any chance to act; by the time they caught up, the bodies of their enemies had already been banished.
Suddenly, she realized that her own divinations weren't very accurate, at least not in his presence...
Soon, they returned to the outpost. It was now manned by Balistan, who was leading the soldiers who had recovered from their wounds to rejoin the ranks, rotating Reynard and his frontline troops out.
The Honor Guard, its ranks replenished by soldiers who had recovered and returned, had also gone back to Hamlet for rest and recuperation. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖
After the last targeted strike, the Heretics had all quieted down. At least for a while, the outpost had not suffered any attacks.
And Lance had killed a Saintess. No matter how strong the Ascension Sect was, it would take time to recover.
Even though the members of the Honor Guard were handpicked, people are not machines. High-intensity training and missions could also wear down the spirit, and they needed their rest when it was due.
Even if the members didn't take leave themselves, the instructors needed rest too.
Lance didn't hand over the map to Balistan, not because he didn't trust him.
It was for organizing a major operation, aiming to wipe out the Heretics in the wilderness in one fell swoop.
Before that, they needed to mobilize troops, prepare munitions, food supplies, and medical materials. This all required time, and the resources consumed would be a terrifying figure.
An army marches on its stomach; if logistics weren't handled well, the war would be a joke.
For now, defense was still the core strategy; they couldn't afford to be rash.
Lance briefly explained the current plan, then boarded the carriage and headed back.
By carriage, the team quickly made their way back to Hamlet Town. The others went their separate ways, while Lance went to find Grendel.
"It must be that the wound wasn't disinfected at the time..." Lance said to Grendel.
In the room, he was explaining the situation in the Beast Lair and the possibility of infection regarding Boudica. Boudica herself had also woken up, though she looked to be in considerable discomfort. Her current condition was far from good. Her body had sustained many heavy blows, parts of her clothes were torn, and dried blood mixed with fragments of flesh matted her wounds, making them almost indistinguishable.
"Sis, what's happened to me?" Boudica asked, her voice weak.
Grendel didn't rush to respond but first conducted a thorough examination, eventually finding large patches of red lesions on Boudica's skin that formed into continuous rashes.
Moreover, some skin that had been injured but forcibly healed by Flesh Reconstruction was even festering, with wounds sticking to clothes in a horrifying sight.
Lance frowned at the sight. He'd been too preoccupied with their journey to have noticed this earlier.
"Why didn't you say something?" he asked Boudica.
"I'm alright..." Boudica, not too delirious to understand what her leader was asking, shrank back, afraid to say more.
"It's fine. We can talk after you're better," Lance said, not probing further.
"Spotted fever. It's not a very serious issue. I've treated similar conditions in the Mountains," Grendel said, having examined the symptoms as if confirming something. She then turned to Lance. "You can leave this to me. You should go and get some rest."
Noticing Grendel's scrutinizing gaze, Lance couldn't help but look down at himself.
As a Noble Lord, his current state was anything but dignified.
He was no better off than Boudica, covered in various bloodstains, his clothes torn and corroded from the fight with the Limping Walker—not to mention one sleeve was completely missing.
But Lance's first reaction was to exclaim...
"I bought this shirt for three silver coins!"
Hearing Lance's almost wailing complaint, Grendel was taken aback for a moment before she understood what he meant. Despite her efforts to suppress it, the corners of her mouth couldn't help but curl upwards slightly.
She had dealt with the finances of Hamlet, where large sums of Gold Coins were spent daily, and yet here was their Lord, lamenting a shirt that cost three silver coins.
Hearing this exchange, Boudica, lying on the sickbed, certainly had her own opinion. Stop fooling around and save me already!







