Our Family Has Fallen

Chapter 421: Chapter 278: Trap, Retreat?_2

”Hmph! Today’s attackers were the musket and Longspear Squads; next time it’ll be the Artillery troops. These earthen walls are little more than a joke—in reality, a cage for them,” Lance said confidently. Surely, they didn’t actually think the gunsmiths he brought back from Totnes were idle? His firearms strategy had been advancing, and all he needed was to wait for the right moment to unveil its power.

The battle, from beginning to end, actually lasted less than an hour, but the aftermath took up a great deal of time.

However, seeing the twenty carts loaded with goods, Lance was quite satisfied.

”You go back first, and be sure to watch out for attacks by the Ascension Sect on the way. The news here has probably already spread.”

”My Lord, aren’t you going back?”

”There’s another camp that needs to be scouted. Geralt, take command. Boudica, Junia, and I will go ascertain the situation.”

Lance directly ordered the formation of a small squad, its target the other camp Geralt had mentioned. The army was currently exhausted, and with quite a few injured, it was impossible for him to drag the entire force deeper into the wilderness. However, a small, agile squad should pose no problem.

Dismas and the others wanted to go as well, but the Lord’s command had its reasons; they simply needed to obey.

”Yay!” Boudica was quite happy. Even though she had felled a Big Guy, she certainly didn’t want to go back to being cooped up.

”Let’s go.”

Under the glow of the setting sun, the convoy began its slow journey, eventually vanishing down the old road. Meanwhile, Lance led his team onto an unfamiliar path, heading into the depths of the wilderness...

Just as Lance had predicted, the news that the wilderness town had been breached quickly reached the Ascension Sect. They didn’t rely on scouts for information, but on some mysterious Supernatural Power.

This wasn’t the first time a host with an attached Seed had died. The death of another town’s sheriff had merely been a flat, emotionless notification from them.

Yet, now, in the flesh-encrusted hall, around the cold Black Iron Altar, those figures shrouded in black-gold robes couldn’t remain as calm as before. It seemed the town’s location was indeed very important to them, or perhaps, the matters connected to it were.

”Why did he find that place?”

”My Lord’s plan cannot be interrupted...”

”The Ghoul cultivation has failed, and the Flesh cannot be controlled. We cannot afford more losses. Let them handle this trouble.”

”Agreed. The Flesh will devour them.”

”Agreed. More blood will flow in Hamlet.”

”Agreed...”

A secret meeting concluded swiftly, and the figures returned to their motionless stance.

But upon closer inspection, it became clear they weren’t worshipping the Black Iron Altar before them at all; instead, they were steadily eroding the power on the altar.

Yet, all of this remained unknown to anyone, in the darkest dungeon...

The group that had left the town now appeared somewhat solemn. The path beneath them had ended, and the sky had turned completely dark.

”From here onward, it’s all mountain paths,” Geralt remarked, also seeking Lance’s opinion. ”Should we make camp and wait until daylight, or press on?”

”Continue,” Lance replied. ”Any further delay, and it’ll be too late.”

Lance had formed this squad precisely because he was confident in their ability to navigate the wilderness even after nightfall. He and Geralt, for instance, had abilities that far surpassed those of ordinary humans. Boudica had grown up in the mountains and forests; to her, the wilderness was like home. Junia was no fragile woman; on the contrary, enduring the elements was merely a trial of the road for her. As for that fellow Wang Cai, wolves are destined to roam the wilderness; it’s dogs that get trapped in yards.

Without hesitation, they pressed on. Thanks to the small size of their team, they made good speed and soon located the camp Geralt had mentioned.

There were no ancient structures to use for fortification; the campsite consisted merely of simple wooden poles supporting tents. Torches were haphazardly planted everywhere, completely exposing the camp’s location.

The entire setup blatantly revealed the Ascension Church’s utter disregard for human life. It’s even more primitive than a damn bandit hideout, Lance thought, and the organization is chaotic. It’s like looking at a refugee camp all over again.

But none of that is the main issue, Lance thought, scanning the area. The terrain is the strangest part. Why would the Ascension Church pick a depression like this for a camp? It’s certainly not easily defensible; in fact, it’s more like a deathtrap. Even a military novice like me knows better than to camp in a spot like this.

”Boss, are they fighting over there?” Boudica asked, her curiosity piqued by the chaotic revelry unfolding in the camp.

”No! That’s damn blasphemy!” Junia finally spoke, her voice tight. She had been silent for the entire journey, focused on moving forward. For her, the mere presence of Heretics was reason enough to come. In the town, she had witnessed their cruelty and bloodlust. Now, seeing the depraved scene in the camp, she frowned and spat out her words through gritted teeth.

There was no aesthetic appeal to it whatsoever; to a normal person, it was simply nauseating.

Lance and Geralt, on the other hand, remained unfazed; they had both witnessed such scenes before.

”Their numbers are way down,” Geralt observed after a quick scan of the surroundings. ”There were over a hundred when I was here before. Now, there are less than half that.” He had initially thought some might be out on patrol, but a closer look revealed that even their pickets and patrols were gone.

”Something’s not right,” Geralt said. ”All the patrols and sentinels are gone.” He had previously noted their patrol routes and sentry positions, but now he was surprised to find them all unmanned.

Lance was also observing the camp’s surroundings. Unlike Geralt with his golden, vertical pupils, Lance, using his Spiritual Vision, also saw no sentries. He couldn’t help but quip, ”They still haven’t left? Do they really think they can just ignore me, Lance?”

”No...” Geralt said slowly, realization dawning given the circumstances. ”They’ve been abandoned. This is a trap.”

Boudica and Junia couldn’t make heads or tails of Lance and Geralt’s cryptic exchange, but the word ”trap” immediately put them on high alert. Boudica’s gaze instantly shifted from the firelit camp to the dark, dense forest surrounding them.

Junia, too, felt a surge of pressure, a flicker of anxiety crossing her usually resolute face.

Logically, having assessed the situation—knowing these people were bait and that a trap likely lay in wait—they should have retreated immediately to avoid further complications.

But Lance remained silent, gazing intently at the scene below.

When Lance didn’t respond after a moment, Geralt turned to look at him.

”Do we pull back?”

His question was a clear reminder for Lance to make the sensible choice. Geralt knew his own task—to bring them here and confirm the situation—was complete, and he was naturally wary of the uncertainties that now lay ahead. Knowingly walking into a trap isn’t a wise move, and it doesn’t fit my impression of Lance, he thought.

”Look at those refugees tied up over there,” Lance said, his voice cutting through Geralt’s thoughts. ”They’ll be in the pot soon. Didn’t you bring me here to save them?”

His words snapped everyone’s attention back to the camp. Sure enough, beside the bonfire, several figures were bound, limp as dead fish. Their fate would likely be the climax of this ”frenzy.”

Why had I hesitated? Lance mused. I knew retreating now was the smartest move. But if we pull back, we might lose this lead entirely. The ghouls’ bizarre rituals still weighed on my mind, and Amanda’s unsettling divination added to my unease. I despise this kind of uncertainty. Some damn trap? Whatever it is, I’m confident in my ability to handle it. Am I really walking into this knowingly just to save a few refugees? Even I don’t believe that. Truthfully, those few refugees don’t mean much to me. This is just an excuse to make a move, and a way to drag Geralt into this mess too. Sometimes, good people just get backed into a corner.