Our Family Has Fallen

”She’s the one looking for trouble.” Boudica’s temper wasn’t something just anyone could manage; she was simply unmovable.

Grendel immediately let go, though her expression turned serious, and her tone was no longer as gentle as before.

”The Lord had just lain down to rest. We shouldn’t trouble him.”

Grendel advised, and this sentence meant different things to different people.

Tiffany and the others had just heard that the Lord had been at the forefront of the expedition, cutting through brambles and thorns, and hadn’t really rested since the mission began.

The Lord was exhausted, and they shouldn’t make a big deal out of simple problems and cause him trouble.

To Boudica, however, it sounded more like a warning: the Lord was already resting; had she considered the consequences of waking him?

At these words, Boudica immediately calmed down. The last time she caused a ruckus, she was banned from drinking for a month. It had been difficult enough to endure for so long; who could withstand another month of it?

When the risks of hunting are too great, an experienced hunter needs to weigh the pros and cons and make the appropriate choice.

”Hmph! I’m just worried about disturbing the boss’s rest, not afraid of you,” Boudica grumbled, still resentful, but sat down in the water nonetheless, not forgetting to utter a few threats.

”I’ll let you off this time, but I’m ready for a fight anytime.”

”Alright, alright~ We’re all on the same side. Let’s just talk things out nicely instead of always shouting about fighting,” Grendel pulled Boudica to her side, stopping her from saying more and calming her down.

Others might not have known, but Grendel was aware of the Lord’s attitude toward Paracelsus; if a conflict arose between them, Boudica was more likely to be at a disadvantage.

Because a research talent is rare, but enforcers are a dime a dozen.

She wasn’t taking sides; she was protecting Boudica.

”My point is, why didn’t the Lord bring back that large Pigman holding the lance you mentioned earlier?” Paracelsus’s social skills were also appallingly bad; she was still pressing the issue even at a time like this.

”How should I know? Ask the boss yourself!” Boudica snapped, her voice tinged with resentment as she turned her head away and sprawled in the pool.

Seeing this, Grendel had to mediate between the two and finally spoke.

”It was mentioned earlier that the battle was fierce. It’s possible the corpse was too damaged during the fight to be of any value. The Lord has his own considerations.”

Tiffany, skilled at reading people, took the opportunity to change the subject.

”Why are there such monsters near Hamlet? I was in Ovando for so long and never heard of any human-pig hybrids.”

”The boss said these are evil experiments conducted by those Heretics…” Boudica explained. While still cross with Paracelsus, Boudica was fair-minded and wouldn’t take it out on Tiffany, especially given their prior friendship from Ovando City. So, since Tiffany asked, she relayed what Lance had told them.

Some of the ideas in it were quite interesting. The combination of human and pig—this was twisted and evil. If Junia were here, she would have cried ”Blasphemy!”

However, no one noticed that their perception of the Beast Lair and the Pigmen was unconsciously being shaped.

All problems pointed toward the Ascension Sect; they were responsible for everything, leaving the Hamlet Family and the Lord appearing pure and innocent.

Paracelsus noticed that before Grendel arrived, the others had shown little inclination to converse. But after Grendel appeared, the topics of conversation multiplied, and the atmosphere became more animated.

This also demonstrated Grendel’s truly strong social skills. She hadn’t been in Hamlet for very long, yet she had managed to integrate so quickly.

After all, an invitation like this, in this era, wasn’t something extended to just any friend; the relationship had to be considered close.

”Speaking of which, I did hear the Wizard mention something similar, using special rituals to combine different creatures…”

Catherine, who had been silent all this time, finally spoke, offering some mystical knowledge.

Truthfully, her presence was quite faint; if she hadn’t spoken, Paracelsus would have almost forgotten she was there.

However, some of the mystical perspectives she mentioned did indeed provide her with some inspiration.

Paracelsus also took the opportunity to share some of her findings from dissecting the Pigmen corpses, hoping to gain different insights from them.

Everyone began to discuss, and the previously tense atmosphere gradually relaxed…

The water would cool, and the efficacy of the medicine would gradually diminish, but everyone seemed very satisfied with the effects. Naturally, after changing clothes, it was time for everyone to head home.

Paracelsus didn’t linger or exchange many pleasantries before heading toward the sanatorium. She admitted to herself that she had gained quite a lot from this trip.

Whether it was the living environment of that Pigman or some of Lance’s conjectures, both had given her considerable inspiration.

These things needed to be recorded as soon as possible. Then she could search the corpses for corresponding evidence—for instance, if they lived in darkness for long periods and were thus sensitive to light, their eyes would surely show something…

The more she thought about it, the more urgent her steps became, eager to return quickly.

Her state made it clear that the medicinal bath was very effective; it was indeed a formula from the Deerhead Tribe.

Paracelsus ran off like that. Grendel guessed she wanted to work overtime to deal with the Pigmen. I’ve done what I could. It’s not as if I can drug and knock her unconscious, can I? I’ll just have to let her be.

”Boudica, you take Tiffany home. Remember, once you drop her off, head straight back. Don’t loiter on the streets.”

Although Hamlet’s security was good, with sheriffs patrolling at night, and anyone daring to cause trouble would be severely punished, Grendel still preferred to be cautious. Especially with recent refugee issues, problems could inevitably arise, so vigilance was necessary.

”I know~” Boudica waved her hand, shouldering her War Halberd as she left with Tiffany.

If there was anything she couldn’t be without, apart from alcohol, it was her weapons. Even during the bath just now, her War Halberd had been right beside her.

Being ready for battle at all times was a tradition passed down by her ancestors.

Seeing Boudica’s carefree manner, Grendel could only shake her head helplessly before turning to Catherine and gesturing.

”Let’s go. I’ll walk you back.”

Catherine said nothing, merely starting to walk silently.

In truth, her social skills were about as poor as Paracelsus’s.

Only, the difference was that Paracelsus was naturally intelligent and disdained wasting time on socialization, which in her view was meaningless—far less worthwhile than doing research.

Catherine’s gloomy disposition, on the other hand, was entirely a product of her environment.

It couldn’t be helped. Having lived in constant fear for so long in the oppressive, dark environment around the Wizard, she was already very strong for not having gone mad.

”This medicinal bath is quite effective. Thanks for your help.”

”It’s nothing. I’m glad I could help.”

Grendel’s remark about the bath was somewhat strange. The Potion used for it was actually not a Deerhead Tribe formula.

The truth was simple: their acquaintance had begun with the Wizard’s legacy.

When Lance had sent Catherine to the library, it wasn’t really for her to manage the place, but to find somewhere for her to adapt to Hamlet’s environment. Of course, the most important task was to handle the Wizard’s estate; no one understood the Wizard better than she did.

However, dealing with the estate was a task for Lance and Grendel; Catherine was merely assisting.

For instance, from the estate, they had sorted out a formula for ”Invigorating Steam.”

After Lance confirmed it was safe, Grendel took charge of the research, enlisting Catherine’s help.

The environment in Hamlet was not the gloomy Rat Street, and Grendel was not the Bald Sorcerer.

The cooperation between them went quite well. Catherine showed no signs of abnormality; on the contrary, her assistance helped accelerate the deciphering of the secrets of the Wizard’s estate. They discussed topics outsiders wouldn’t understand; the Potion used for this bath was Grendel’s creation, combining new Alchemy techniques.

She wasn’t Paracelsus. The Mountain Barbarian Tribe values practicality—if there’s better new technology, why not use it?

It was rather amusing, actually. Paracelsus, who had received a higher education, was somehow more narrow-minded than a Barbarian living in the Mountains.