Our Family Has Fallen

Ignoring the chaotic, bloody scene, they quickly gathered the looted supplies and dove into the wilderness. The Warwolf glanced one last time at the hawks circling in the sky, then reluctantly turned to follow, his steps heavy with frustration.

They were being hunted by the same Nobles who had defeated them in Bastia.

No sooner had they left the Mountains than they began to slaughter wantonly. Naturally, this drew the attention of the local Noble Lords, and word soon reached the Lord of Bastia. An army was dispatched to pursue them.

It wasn’t that he lacked the courage to fight; it was just that their mission wasn’t yet complete, and he needed to conserve his strength. In the past, he would never have tolerated such an affront. But now he knew how to bide his time and make sacrifices. Perhaps this was the growth he had experienced after enduring so much along the way. If he could complete the task of bloodline advancement and return, he might indeed be able to lead the Fang Wolf Tribe back to its zenith. But for now, he needed to lead his men in evading the encirclement of that Noble’s army…

Shortly after the Warwolf led his people away, a squad of Cavalry arrived at the village, which had been slaughtered into a hellish scene. The thick stench of blood permeated the air, tainting it with a metallic tang.

The once dirt ground had turned into red mud from the seeped blood, and warhorses’ hooves splattered countless bloody droplets with each step.

This Cavalry squad numbered only about twenty, but they were well-equipped. They wore full Knight’s Armor, and even their horses were draped in barding. Hanging at their sides were bows and arrows, Lances, and Knight’s Longswords.

From this impressive equipment alone, it was clear these were true Knights, rigorously trained from childhood, advancing step by step from Retainers to knighthood.

Forging such a Cavalry Troop was extremely costly, especially since lands had all been allotted and could no longer be divided as before to sustain Knights through feoffment.

These Knights likely held only the title without actual Knight’s Domains. Completely dependent on their Lord, probably only powerful Lordships could afford to maintain them.

Naturally, the combat prowess of these Knights was formidable in this era, akin to small tanks. It’s no wonder that the Barbarian warriors led by the Warwolf were so easily dispersed.

”Damn it! They’ve escaped again,” Alvin roared in anger upon witnessing the scene before him.

His outburst was so intense that his steed felt his rage and began stepping uneasily until it steadied itself.

Though commoners were as insignificant as roadside weeds to the Nobility, they were still *his* weeds. To see them cut down like this was something he could not ignore.

What made him even more infuriated was that despite chasing them all this way, those Barbarians had repeatedly slipped through his grasp. It was as though he was being toyed with, which only fueled his anger.

Alvin’s Knight’s Armor was more exquisite than the standard issue. Without needing to say it, his true Noble status and role as the leader of this Cavalry were evident.

As one of the many offspring of the Lord of Bastia, he was not the eldest legitimate son and had no right to inherit his father’s territory. Thus, he was cultivated as a Knight from birth.

He had been taught by a great master and proved himself to be promising, taking command of a Cavalry Troop at a young age. The Cavalry he led had been the ones to defeat the Warwolf.

However, the main army could not move recklessly. For a more efficient pursuit, only a portion of the elite was selected to chase down those Barbarians.

SCREECH!

A sharp cry pierced the air, and the hawk that had been circling above swiftly dived into the forest nearby.

Alvin, sensing something, looked in that direction and saw a strange troop emerging from the forest beside the village.

They mostly adorned their attire with feathers and were clad in dark green hooded cloaks that covered their heads and faces.

The bows and arrows they carried differed from those of the Empire. They bore Short Bows of a dark green hue and were mostly accompanied by hawks.

It was clear that these men were not Imperial People but came from the Barbarian Tribes of the Mountains.

Amid them, one figure was more distinct, wearing a white bird’s head mask with more elaborate feather decorations, and even exuding a special kind of power.

The hawk that had been circling in the sky now perched on this leader’s shoulder. Its sharp Eagle Eye seemed to possess a wisdom far beyond that of ordinary animals.

From their attire and equipment, it was clear these were not Imperial People but rather resembled the Barbarians from the Mountains.

Alvin naturally knew who these people were.

Not all Mountain Barbarian Tribes were hostile to the Empire; many tribes had good relations with it.

And the most unique among them were these fellows. Before the establishment of Bastia, the conflict between the two sides was very intense, often causing trouble for the Empire.

The Barbarians would come down from the Mountains to raid, stealing money, food, and people—anything they could take with them.

The Empire’s troops, on a small scale, could not defeat these Barbarians. Whenever a large force approached, they would simply hide deep within the Mountains.

His family held only a Baron’s land here, and it was always their estate that suffered the losses after each raid.

Fortunately, through three generations of hard work and gradual development, his family steadily expanded their territory, until his father’s generation pushed the domain all the way to Bastia Gorge.

Then, sparing no expense, they started major construction projects to build a fortress. The Mountain Barbarian Tribes realized that once the fortress was completed, they would lose their pathway into the Empire. Consequently, several of the powerful tribes united and attacked this place.

He was not clear about the details of that battle; the older generation was always vague about it. However, the outcome was evident. They had defeated the Barbarian Alliance Army. The significant fortress of Bastia was established in the northwest of the Empire, ending the era of the Mountain Barbarian Tribes raiding at will.

Thanks to this fortress, his family’s fortunes soared, and their strength greatly increased. Originally holding only a baronial title, after this battle, the head of the family became the Count of Bastia, ruling a domain in all but name.

This was the disadvantage of the Nobility system. Once a Noble became too powerful, they might form a faction in opposition to the central government. While Bastia had not openly declared independence, it was, in effect, a separate power.

In contrast, those larger tribes went downhill due to the severe losses suffered in that battle, including the Fang Wolf Tribe.

What’s interesting here is that among these tribes, the Eagle Claw Tribe had made a decision that even Alvin found incredible.

The day after the battle, they came forth with the entire Eagle Claw Tribe to pledge allegiance, and on the third day, they changed their name to the Eagle Flock organization and joined Bastia.

And what’s more, the Count even granted their leader a Baron’s title, although without a Fief, which was quite a clear statement.

Alvin knew his father did this to appease the Barbarians, as a demonstration to them. After all, they would inevitably have dealings with the Barbarians in the future. By showing kindness, more Barbarians might be persuaded to pledge allegiance, further dividing them.

The behavior of the Eagle Claw Tribe was looked down upon by the Mountain Barbarian Tribes, who considered it a disgrace. However, the Count-backed Eagle Flock did not decline like the other tribes; instead, they thrived.

They even used their unique abilities to do a lot of private work for the family and often served as reconnaissance units to assist military operations, earning considerable merit.

This Eagle Flock squad had been sent by his father to assist them in tracking down those Barbarians. How else could their Cavalry Squad possibly have located them?

”Is this how you lead the way?” Alvin raised his hand and lifted his visor, revealing a young man’s face. His expression showed clear dissatisfaction as he looked at those men, though without hostility.

The attitudes between the two sides indicated they were not enemies and were quite familiar with each other.

”Those fools were scared by the Cavalry led by Lord Alvin and fled like frightened dogs. However, we have already pinpointed their location. They cannot escape, as the distance between us is closing. Soon, my lord, you will capture them,” explained the leader with the bird’s head mask, calming Alvin with a flattering tone.

But Alvin was no fool; though he was not the eldest legitimate son, he still benefited from the education system for Nobility.

”Hmph! You’d better be right.” Alvin lowered the visor of his helmet again and turned to look in the direction the Warwolf had departed. ”Now, catch up!”

”Yes, my lord,” replied the leader of the Eagle Flock squad, his gaze shifting from the bloody scene, his expression hidden behind the mask.

However, the members of the Eagle Flock organization following him did not conceal their desire for what they saw at the scene, except for one figure wrapped in a green cloak who seemed somewhat distinctive.

”Hurry up!” Alvin barked, noticing their reaction. A wave of revulsion washed over him from behind his helmet as he urged them on.

He had no particular affection for them either. These fellows inherited barbaric traits and had caused many problems in his domain. If they weren’t still useful, they probably would have been eliminated by now.

A hound should be aware of its status as a hound…