Our Family Has Fallen

Chapter 42: Chapter 42: White Wolf’s Claws_1

The agricultural productivity of this world is so low largely because the land, cultivated year after year without a chance to recover, only becomes more barren with each crop, naturally resulting in lower yields.

Lance adopted the simplest method for this: collecting human and livestock excrement. After just over ten days of fermentation, it could be turned into pollution-free fertilizer. This approach also created many job opportunities and improved sanitary conditions for the residents.

Dismas, though not fully grasping these topics, still felt they were quite impressive.

As they passed through the square, they found many people coming and going from the grain store. The townspeople who saw Lance would greet him warmly, smiles on their faces. Lance responded with a smile to the townspeople. The atmosphere was completely devoid of the tension from a few days prior; instead, it was quite harmonious.

Dismas had never seen a noble interact so amicably with ordinary people...

By using work as a form of relief, Lance had gotten coins circulating again in town. Commoners could now buy grain. Those with higher wages could afford milk, eggs, and meat to take home, while some bachelors would spend a copper coin on a few mugs of beer for leisure after work. Similarly, small items like candles also began to circulate as people had more money. Lance’s measures had successfully pulled the town back from the brink of collapse, and everything seemed quite idyllic.

By now, his reputation had reached a very high level. Everyone in town knew him, and no matter who it was, they would praise him as ’My Lord’.

But as time passed, some problems began to surface. A surplus of certain goods, like grain, wool, and fabric, was piling up in the warehouses. On the other hand, there was a scarcity of coal and Iron Ingots, as well as some daily necessities that could not be locally produced.

Lance felt an increasing urgency to eliminate the bandits and clear the roads to the outside world.

And now, Dismas’s return signified that the conditions were in place...

”Come, tell us what you’ve discovered these past few days,” Lance said. As was his custom, he discussed matters at the dinner table after a full meal. Reynard and Balistan also eagerly awaited the news.

It wasn’t that they felt no pressure while staying in town. On the contrary, knowing that bandits could attack at any moment while they themselves had little information about them made it very difficult for them. It could be said that everyone was awaiting news from Dismas.

After a bath and a change into fresh clothes, Dismas was in much better spirits. Facing everyone’s expectant gazes, he dropped a bombshell.

”On the old road, there isn’t just one den of bandits, but many—at least seven or eight, large and small, collectively numbering at least a hundred people.”

This news was alarming, and Lance immediately felt a surge of pressure. These were over a hundred vicious bandits who lived by the sword, not over a hundred docile Serfs.

This is just too damn hard—what kind of starting situation is this...

By the time he collected his thoughts, he had already started cursing his ancestors. Just how many people had the old man summoned to kill his own subjects?

It wasn’t just Lance; the other two also fell silent, unsure how to deal with the problem.

”Continue,” Lance said. He quickly regained his composure, understanding that he was the pillar of strength for everyone and must remain calm.

”The largest gang of bandits is likely those deserters,” Dismas reported. ”They have the most men, at least sixty or seventy, and they are well-equipped. Musketeers make up a third of their ranks, and they even have cannons—those excessively powerful war machines. However, they don’t act like a military force; their discipline is lax.”

”The second bandit group has far fewer members, perhaps only twenty or thirty, but all of them are elite...”

With Dismas’s narration, a clearer picture of the situation emerged before them.

Lance quickly realized there were many bandits on the old road, but in reality, only two groups were key. One was an artillery group formed from deserters, and the other, naturally, was a bandit group composed entirely of elites. The remaining scattered bandit groups numbered twenty or thirty people at most, their individual strength ordinary. If the two larger groups were dealt with, the rest wouldn’t be worth mentioning.

”Continue telling us about this elite bandit group,” Lance prompted.

Dismas was a proud man, but even he acknowledged their strength, which indicated they were no ordinary band. This, especially after what Balistan had mentioned earlier, captured Lance’s attention.

”To tell the truth, I don’t know much about this group,” Dismas said. ”I estimated their numbers based on the size of their camp. However, I also discovered they keep quite a few white wolves, letting them roam around the camp. If strangers approach, the wolves will sound an alert or even attack. It was because of these white wolves that I was almost spotted just by watching from a distance. Later, fearing I might alarm them, I didn’t dare get closer and left.”

”You did the right thing,” Lance affirmed. ”Startling them in such a situation wouldn’t have been good.” He agreed with Dismas’s decision; sometimes, taking a step back was not wrong.

”White wolves?” The bandits Dismas described drew Balistan’s attention, and he couldn’t help but repeat the words.

”They were the bandits wearing white wolf fur ornaments during the war,” Balistan explained. ”I’ve fought them; their strength is truly out of the ordinary. Many mercenaries died at their hands.”

Dismas mused, ”With such strength, they should have made a name for themselves anywhere. How could they suddenly appear here? And why would these people become bandits?”

Dismas found this odd. By common sense, those who became bandits were usually criminals or people driven to the mountains out of desperation. This usually resulted in a mixed bag of individuals. Some being strong was understandable, but for an entire group to be so formidable didn’t fit the typical profile of a bandit group. With such strength, why would they choose to be bandits, a life with no real prospects?

”Have you heard of the White Wolf’s Claws Mercenary Corps?” Reynard asked.

His words caused Dismas and Balistan to pause, but soon they seemed to understand something.

”Ah, yes...” Dismas murmured.

”That’s indeed possible,” Balistan added.

Their reactions left Lance bewildered, so he had to ask, ”What are you talking about?”

Dismas quickly began to explain to Lance. ”The White Wolf’s Claws was a Mercenary Corps, quite prominent in certain circles some time ago. They were a tribal Mercenary Corps, very united internally, strong, and fearless. They’d take on any mission for money, which, in some ways, made them little different from bandits—and just as infamous. They gained notoriety because the Mercenary Corps somehow offended a powerful noble. That noble had real authority and issued a warrant for them. They resisted, causing a significant disturbance. Later, an army was even mobilized to hunt them down. I heard they were wiped out somewhere, so I assumed they were long dead. That’s why I didn’t think of this possibility at first. Now that I think about it, if that Mercenary Corps really did escape here, everything would make sense.”