Our Family Has Fallen

In fact, this group of about ten people, plus their cart, didn’t take up much space at all. There was plenty of room left on the old road. If the Cavalry really wanted to pass, there wouldn’t have been any problems whatsoever.

But the issue was that these folks had just suffered a setback and had pent-up resentment. Besides, they were used to being overbearing; everyone else on their way had steered clear of them. So why weren’t *these ones* avoiding them? What did that mean?

The hot-blooded Alvin couldn’t tolerate the slightest grievance. He immediately accelerated and charged forward, raising his hand to rein his horse to an abrupt halt, displaying his superb horsemanship as he blocked the group’s path.

”’Stop them!’ Alvin commanded, raising his hand to signal a halt. The now-stationary Cavalry and their horses instantly surrounded the group on the old road.

It was just that these overbearing men simply blocked off the road. However, these refugees couldn’t possibly make a fuss about it; they’d rather wait than provoke these men.

”Why didn’t you avoid us when you saw us? Are you Heretics?” Alvin, mounted on his warhorse, looked down on those strange fellows, his undisguised irritability clear on his face.

However, his shouting prompted little to no reaction from the group; only the person leading the cart spoke, their voice hoarse.

”Because we cannot see or hear...”

This might have been a plain statement, but to Alvin, it felt like deep sarcasm.

You must understand that Alvin had just been prodded by the most despised peasants with pitchforks. Although he wasn’t injured, it was as if they had trodden his noble face underfoot. It was a slap in his face.

And now even refugees dared to disregard him?

”Damned rabble!” Alvin flew into a rage, lifting the riding crop in his hand and violently lashing it at the man.

This was no light, aimless whip-stroke like the one he’d used on the Eagle Flock; Alvin put so much force into it that he nearly launched himself from his horse’s back.

A blow like that, if it didn’t split skin and tear flesh, would at the very least leave the man...

But before the riding crop could reach the man, it was casually caught in mid-air.

Alvin was so taken aback that he froze for a moment, but then an even more explosive rage engulfed him the next second.

He wanted to lash the man viciously to death, to show them how they should face Nobility.

But when he exerted force to take back his riding crop, he found that it wouldn’t budge at all, which infuriated and unnerved him.

With his pride at stake, he couldn’t let go. But no matter how hard he tugged, he couldn’t retract the riding crop, nor could he budge the man gripping its other end in the slightest.

How could this be possible?

Alvin increasingly felt that everything that had happened since he entered the lands of Hamlet was growing stranger and stranger.

Was his strength now less than that of a refugee?

A young man’s lack of life experience often makes them reckless, but the Baron was always very calm.

Although he too had reservations about these people not avoiding them—after all, he himself was a noble—he let Alvin wreak havoc. It was better for Alvin to vent his spleen on others than on the Baron himself.

But after observing for a while, the Baron instantly realized that something was amiss. He quickly rode forward to give Alvin an out, easing the bizarre atmosphere.

”We are also pursuing Heretics. When we encounter unusual people, of course, we need to inquire,” the Baron said smoothly. He extended his hand to hold the riding crop, ostensibly to stop Alvin, but also secretly exerted his own strength. To his surprise, even their combined efforts failed to budge the other party.

Realizing this, the Baron’s attitude changed once more. His face, framed by thick eyebrows, now brimmed with a forced smile as he gestured.

”There may be some misunderstanding between us,” he said.

He then turned to reassure Alvin. ”Let it go, milord. It seems they truly didn’t notice us; they are not Heretics.”

”Hmph! I’ll let you off this time,” Alvin said. He was already feeling like he had ridden himself into a corner, so with the Baron giving him a way out, it was natural for him to take it.

The man didn’t dwell on the incident either and released the riding crop. The tense atmosphere seemed to have eased.

But just then, the man spoke up again.

”Oppressing the weak goes against the Knight’s Code. If you seek to advance further, you must first uphold a righteous heart and perform good deeds...”

But before he could finish, Alvin roared with fury.

”What gives you the right? How dare you presume to teach me what to do!”

To Alvin, this was another humiliation. He was a noble, yet a refugee presumed to lecture him.

He yelled, reaching for his Longsword and clamoring to cut the man down.

Although the Baron inwardly agreed with the man’s words, he could only acknowledge it to himself. Seeing Alvin’s reaction, he quickly intervened, moving close to warn him.

”Milord! Milord! They have contracted the plague. Don’t get near them!”

Hearing this, a look of terror and disgust flashed across Alvin’s face. His mind, previously clouded by pressure and anger, suddenly gained a moment of clarity.

Looking back at those people, he now realized something. If they were truly refugees surrounded by them, they would have been crying for mercy a long time ago.

But what about these people? They had no reaction at all. They were like distorted, eerie figures wrapped in tattered clothes, their exposed skin warped and decomposing like tree bark.

Similarly, their eyes showed no fear or any other emotion, only profound numbness. It was as if they were long dead, and what animated these ”corpses” was merely relentless, trapped torment, unable to find release.

Alvin instinctively pulled on the reins to retreat. Looking at the riding crop in his hand, he reacted with a start and quickly threw it away, as if terrified of being contaminated.

”Disgusting!” Alvin spat, turning his head and calling to the other Cavalry, ”Let’s go! Quickly!”