Our Family Has Fallen

Chapter 36: Chapter 36: Turmoil_1

Moreover, he couldn’t deny the land deeds; they were issued by the previous Lord, and he couldn’t push the blame onto a dead man. Land deeds represented the spirit of contract and trust—the very cornerstone of governance. If he refused to acknowledge previously issued deeds, then people would not trust any decrees he issued in the future.

Fortunately, the bandits had cleared out a number of problematic claims for him. The town mayor had also repurchased most of the land. By the previous night, Lance had sorted through the deeds in his possession; in effect, most of the small town already belonged to him. As for the few remaining parcels, he just needed to spend a little money to buy them from their owners; they were virtually worthless now anyway.

After a busy day, Lance, with the help of those men, finally completed a regional map of the town. Although it was just a rough sketch, the map already delineated several areas and noted the plans for various buildings. This would be a significant reference for future construction, at least sparing him the need to oversee every step after handing it to the foreman.

Lance glanced at the time, figured it was about right, and called a few of the men to head back.

”Alright, that’s all for today. Go get some dinner; I’ve already made arrangements.”

These construction workers had been brought over by carriage early in the morning. They had followed Lance around town all day, only munching on some bread at noon. Now that the Lord had announced dinner, they were naturally overjoyed.

Lance didn’t go with them. He stood in place, watching their retreating figures, a faint smile unexpectedly touching his otherwise calm expression...

Back at the plaza, the queue from the brothel now stretched into the plaza itself. Today was the last free meal, so everyone wanted to secure a good spot, lest they arrive late and get nothing.

Looking at them, they no longer appeared as sallow and gaunt as they had initially; their faces finally had some color.

Truth be told, these three days of free congee had been a real treat for them. No work required; they just had to lie around until it was time, then grab a bowl and eat. Life had been pretty good.

Some lazybones would eat in the morning, then lie about in the plaza basking in the sun. After eating in the evening, they’d go home—it was incredibly comfortable~

But this good life was ending today, and some people couldn’t help but voice their concerns.

”If this stops, what will we eat tomorrow?”

This question seemed to possess a magical power, spreading among the townspeople and evoking a growing chorus of agreement.

”The Lord is such a good person; he’ll continue the distribution.”

”Exactly, the Lord certainly will.”

”I’ve seen that the waves have washed up a lot of seaweed recently, and many mushrooms have sprouted in the forest. We won’t starve.”

”...”

Some pinned their hopes on Lance, some just gave up caring, while others voiced their basest thoughts.

”Why don’t we just rob the brothel? There’s bound to be a lot of grain in there.”

It was unknown who uttered this, but it caused a massive stir in the crowd.

”That’s not right~ The Lord has been so good to us.”

”Are you crazy? The Lord will have you hanged for this!”

”I don’t want to die~”

It was clear that most townspeople didn’t want to oppose the Lord. They lacked the courage and quickly distanced themselves, fearing they’d be implicated.

But the crisis of survival weighed heavily on them. As time passed, their denials began to sound increasingly hollow.

”How can a bunch of harlots be in charge of distributing food? They’re blaspheming against the gods!”

”Why should those people get to eat more? Why do we only get this stuff?”

”Exactly! I’ve seen their congee has more than just wild greens in it.”

They didn’t dare to find fault with the Lord, but when it came to those *not* the Lord, well, that was another matter~

One could sense the dissatisfaction spreading among them, their words growing harsher.

The entire crowd was like a powder keg, needing only a spark to explode.

Just then, the workers who had been busy with Lance all day cut straight through the line and entered the brothel.

”Who are they? Why don’t they have to queue?”

”It must be those wretches deceiving the Lord and withholding our grain!”

”Let’s go get our grain back!”

”There are so many of us; the Lord can’t possibly arrest everyone.”

Once they found enough reasons to convince themselves, the transition from grumbling to rioting often occurred in an instant.

One person... then two...

Soon, a large group broke from the queue and began to storm the brothel. The rest were swept along in the confusion, many without understanding why.

Once it started, they completely forgot their fear, their words becoming even more brazen.

”I want to eat my fill!”

”I want meat!”

”I want women!”

Order dissolved in that instant, and chaos began to spread.

Whether it was because they had eaten their fill over the past few days, or due to the influence of some unknown power, they now felt an inexhaustible strength surging within them.

These people radiated a strange madness, as if they had lost all reason, driven entirely by their desires.

They wanted to destroy everything, kill everyone!

But just then, a gunshot cracked through the din of chaos. The person at the very front of the mob pitched to the ground.

Immediately, the thundering of hooves echoed as Reynard charged forward, sword in hand. He was unstoppable, and with just himself and his horse, he projected the suppressive aura of an army, instantly crushing the townspeople’s morale.

”All of you, down! Disobey, and you die!”

The most profound fear pierced through their frenzy. The townspeople, who had been attacking the brothel, scattered in an instant, fleeing towards another intersection, desperate to escape.

However, at another exit stood Balistan, shield raised. Alone, he was like an unmovable mountain, blocking the street.

As the crowd approached, he slammed his hammer against his shield and roared.

”All of you, down! Disobey, and you die!”

That roar alone made them dare not advance another inch.

They had seen Balistan brutally crush the mercenary leader with his hammer.

Two of the plaza’s three exits were now blocked. The crowd, like a school of fish pursued by sharks, frantically swarmed towards the last remaining opening, desperately changing direction.

And it was then that Lance strolled out.

Compared to the other two, Lance was alone, and his somewhat slender figure seemed to spark a foolish hope in some of them.

But before they could get close, another gunshot rang out. The one leading their charge stumbled and fell, his body a mangled ruin of flesh and blood that stained the ground crimson.

”Last chance. Everyone down. Disobey... and you die!”

Lance stood motionless, gun raised, his gaze indifferent as he watched them. He remained completely unfazed by the turmoil. His presence was no less imposing than the other two—in fact, it was even more potent.

Under the threat of death, the crowd froze. Three desperate attempts to flee had already sapped their stamina and courage. When the first person gave up and dropped to the ground, the rest quickly followed suit.