The tribe's wise men and elders will think more about these words; they'll weave their own conspiracy between the Earl and Wolf Fang.

A conspiracy against the Mountain Barbarian Tribe.

"Let's quickly go back and tell everyone!"

Some of them started to panic, after all, they do have a tribe behind them, unlike Boslake, who is just a remnant.

"Wait, we need to unify our stance about losing this battle."

Boslake spoke the words Grendel prepared for him, which sparked some dissatisfaction.

"Isn't it bad to say this?"

Several warriors questioned.

"Fools! I told you to listen to me, but you didn't. You almost got massacred by an armed caravan, if not for my rescue, you'd have been completely annihilated. If others knew, they'd laugh at us forever. If you want to lose face, I don't."

Sure enough, these words brought everyone to agreement. The Barbarians are very prideful, even if they lost, they wouldn't admit to the strength of Michel's Personal Guards.

Moreover, losing to an armed caravan was worse than losing to the Earl's secret forces in an ambush, which at least preserved their dignity.

In the Barbarian Tribe, losing to the Earl is normal because everyone has lost to him.

Very quickly, opinions unified again, although some were unhappy, they still agreed.

But then Boslake made a very strange move.

"The Eagle Flock has spotted us, if we gather together, we'll be easily found. Now, let's split up and run, at least not everyone will die. As long as one person survives to deliver the message."

The few people who had just gathered quickly left, but Boslake was in no hurry and took down the big bow he carried.

He had noticed the reactions of a few; some must not return alive.

Grendel was right, internal conflicts among the Barbarians were fierce, and for Boslake, anyone obstructing his revenge was an enemy.

Blame them for being too clever...

Boslake tidied up his weapons and equipment, picked up the big bow, and followed behind.

...

Lance was eager to intercept them outside the town, precisely for better handling of this matter.

With everything set up, they quickly digested the incident, and by the time they returned to the town, only a group of the wounded were placed in the outskirts' military camp.

"Pay attention to the wounded. This is a rare chance to handle gunshot wounds and gain experience..."

Lance valued this domain, as advancements in medical technology relied on experience and trial and error. Practicing on the Personal Guards was better than using his own people.

By now, Lance had also trained some medics in the military; while other injuries weren't easily treated, surgical methods had good results.

After handling these matters, Lance called someone.

Quickly, the anxious Gene was brought before Lance, his first words were a plea for mercy.

"You really can't target Michel, he..."

Gene was trying hard to persuade, with an attitude that couldn't be more humble, as he wasn't a fool like Michel.

Compared to others who were caught for reeducation, severely injured, or ended up in a sanatorium, he was rather fortunate, since he could still move freely now.

But he knew he would be doomed if he couldn't save Michel, so he steeled himself to persuade.

Hoping the 'big Buddha' he mentioned might intimidate this enigmatic person.

"I didn't call you here to discuss this."

Lance casually replied, his gaze finally leaving his heavy workload and landing on Gene with a smile.

"Do you know who I am?"

This demeanor left Gene unsure, as he considered himself adept at reading people, even capturing the logic behind a maniac like Michel, controlling him tightly.

But in front of this person, he felt entirely unclear.

Because this person refused to play by the rules.

Yet, facing those smiling eyes, he began to speak.

"This is Hamlet, naturally, sir, you are the Lord of Hamlet."

Gene couldn't quite understand how this rundown town, Hamlet, had such a military force.

But Lance's next words left him no room for thought.

"Your father, Old Gene, was killed by me."

Gene wasn't a fool, hearing this, he immediately recalled something: when his father was about to annex the Walter Conglomerate, he suddenly disappeared.

Instead, the Walter Conglomerate, which was supposedly at the brink, unexpectedly raised enough grain to get through the crisis.

After a while, the long-missing Old Walter returned, reviving the conglomerate, even growing stronger.

He had long suspected something, but was busy stabilizing his own business; now it seemed all these were arranged by the person before him.

Realizing this, he couldn't help but blurt out.

"You are the person behind Walter!"

"Clever." Lance nodded with a smile, "Your father's death was unintentional; he joined an evil cult gathering, and when I acted, he happened to be inside."

Gene suddenly realized, terror filled his heart.

It's as if telling the son how his father was killed, what's the meaning of it?

Is it to let him die clear-headed?

Gene was indeed a character; listening to this, he didn't panic, nor did he become hysterical like Michel, instead, gritting his teeth, he angrily condemned.

"Then he was right to die, daring to attend an evil cult gathering. If I knew, I would have reported his wrongdoing to the Church."

Lance was slightly surprised by Gene's performance, pausing before remarkably saying.

"I initially planned to leave you to Walter since your father almost drove Tiffany to despair. Handing you to Walter would've been fair."

Gene's expression turned grave hearing this, having met Walter several times, he knew he wasn't an easy person, letting him go would be tough...

It seems our benevolent Lance noticed his difficulty and immediately decided for him.

"But in light, I find I can't spare you..." Lance suddenly stood up, still making the explanations a proper villain should at this critical moment.

"In any case, being able to speak such words to the killer of your father, your scheming is too deep, so deep that letting you live even one more second poses a threat to me."

Gene was stunned, was he being sentimental?

If he knew earlier, he wouldn't have said so much!

"I have money! I can give you money!"

"I'm an Imperial Noble, you can't kill me!"

"I..."

Gene desperately argued every point in his defense, retreating as Lance approached.

Unfortunately, Lance had no interest in any of it, simply reaching out to twist Gene's neck easily, as if killing a mere mouse.

The previously noisy hall fell silent at once. Lance casually tossed aside the corpse before turning to look to the side.

"Come out."

As soon as he said this, Tiffany emerged, holding a stack of documents, her expression strange upon seeing the body on the floor.

Processing confiscated goods was unknown to outsiders but definitely needed to be accounted for; Tiffany's presence was not surprising; Lance intentionally called her over.

"I promised you back then, none who hurt you will escape."

"Phew~" Tiffany exhaled deeply, shifting her gaze from the corpse, but quickly composed herself, questioning, "Even if he had to die, shouldn't we have extracted the money first?"

"He has no money left~" Lance dismissed casually, "The money was already spent on paving roads. The nobility wouldn't care for him otherwise; they merely wanted his money."

Walter had long informed Lance about this; the Gene Commercial Group was just a white glove for those people. Though seemingly glamorous, Gene Commercial Group was now just a hollow shell.

The shell was those convoys that had just entered Lance's pocket.

Ovando City might still hold some sway, but Walter, that old fox, was no simpleton. Knowing this, he'd likely consume that last bit swiftly.

By sacrificing Gene's corpse, erasing his mark from this world, it meant that the Gene Commercial Group, once orchestrating the Ovando famine, had vanished completely.