Our Family Has Fallen

”You foolish man! Have you forgotten how they treated you, to actually forsake Ascension! Damn traitor!”

”We were never comrades in the first place, let alone traitors,” the man retorted without a hint of regret, his expression somewhat cold. ”Even though I am a criminal, I have never abandoned my loyalty to my Lord.”

I had come here because of my own mistakes; it had nothing to do with the Lord. I have already disappointed him once, so this time I must make the right choice. Loyalty!

Infiltrating was challenging for Heretics; only those not severely corrupted by the Heresy could manage it. These people had no special abilities. Naturally, to expand their power, they needed to recruit followers, much like a pyramid scheme recruits downlines. But that should happen under stable circumstances, not by stirring up trouble here.

Clearly, the Heretics in this camp were not content with peace. They greedily wanted more and thus foolishly started to recruit downlines. Then these Heretics took notice of him—an unwelcome criminal, tasked with the most grueling and laborious work. After discovering his situation, they began to approach him, using his current plight as an entry point. They were adept at this approach.

But what the Heretics could hardly understand was why someone abandoned by his Lord over a ”small whim of power” deserved such steadfast loyalty.

He had feigned allegiance, waiting until all the infiltrating Heretics were identified before turning on them and approaching the stationed military forces to reveal his deception. The precise capture operation apprehended the infiltrated Heretics one by one. Indeed, some newcomers had been recruited. As for what awaited them, it was an unsettling prospect.

The Lord was merciful, but his mercy extended only to his own people.

But a bizarre situation arose when the camp leader also arrived with men to make arrests. With his testimony, another individual recruited by the Heretics also turned against them.

So, you were one too...

This meant that all the new recruits these Heretics had cultivated were undercover agents.

This is unbelievable... Not even a novel would dare to script this.

Because they had undercover informants, they didn’t need to screen individuals as other camps did. Instead, they could pinpoint and apprehend the Heretics who had infiltrated. Simultaneously, their plot was exposed, although the two undercover agents had incomplete information. They only knew that the Heretics intended to use familiar faces within the camp to spread rumors and incite rebellion.

Unfortunately, they were apprehended before they could even manage to incite the common folk.

The capture operation lasted all night, and the interrogation of the Cult Leader continued for almost the entire night as well.

”Speak up! What is your plan?”

”Death and despair shall shroud all of Hamlet! I will achieve Ascension, while you are doomed to fall! Believe in my Lord, and seek the ultimate...”

”To hell with that!” The soldier suddenly threw a punch that skewed the Cult Leader’s nose. ”Stop your damn act! Spewing such nonsense, do you think you’re some big shot?!”

These soldiers, hailing from the training grounds, had no belief in such nonsense. They only believed in their Lord and military orders. Preaching to them was like the Church trying to convert Heresy Fanatics.

But even after knocking the Cult Leader unconscious, they couldn’t extract any more information from him. In some ways, he was foolish and arrogant, and his presumption had led to the ruin of his plans. Nevertheless, his loyalty to the Sect of Ascension was unquestionable; no wonder he was a leader.

However, Hamlet would not tolerate such audacious Heretics!

”Prepare to send someone back to make contact and report to the Lord what happened. Should we escort these individuals back to town, or execute them on the spot?”

The company commander had just issued the command when a soldier ran back to report.

”Report! The men at the watchtower spotted a signal fire to the west. Judging by its location, it seems to be one of the farms.”

”Declare martial law! Halt all work for one day. No one is allowed to move without orders. Soldiers will take over the camp.”

The Sect of Ascension had committed a great number of its members to this operation, intending to seize the opportunity to deal a heavy blow to Hamlet. But even with their strength, there was a limit, especially since their numbers had greatly diminished after targeted strikes by Lance. Once the main offensive targeted the town and the outpost, most of their elite forces and personnel were concentrated there, leaving fewer members available for deployment elsewhere.

The incidents in the two wilderness development zones were, in fact, caused by Heretics mixed among the refugees relocated there. Regrettably, both groups were exposed prematurely under different circumstances. When they failed to incite the common people, these Heretics were no match for the military, incapable of turning the tide.

The camp supervisor, watching the smoke signals rise slowly, couldn’t help but feel uneasy. He could only secure the camp and await new orders.

At dawn, a convoy laden with goods traveled on the old road. Aside from the cargo, a substantial number of people surrounded the caravan, creating a bustling scene. The road leading to Hamlet had not been this lively in over a decade. Although most of these were refugees in tattered clothes, some slightly better-off individuals also followed behind the caravan.

Only people from the Walter Conglomerate dared to travel this route at such a time, and Vick was in charge of this convoy. He took advantage of the crisis to contact some skilled workers in Ovando City whose lives had been disrupted by the changing times. To the lords, workers and serfs were much the same—undervalued. In the face of sudden disasters, they could scarcely afford food. Furthermore, plans related to food distribution, organizational development, and ongoing activities all needed to be reported to the Lord.

Indeed, only hard work truly tested one’s character. Vick was now dressed in a practical hunting outfit, a wide-brimmed hat shielding him from the sun, and a pistol tucked at his waist. His posture on horseback was upright and strong, and the gaze from beneath his wide-brimmed hat carried an air of authority, giving him the appearance of a nobleman out on a hunt. No one would have guessed that just a year ago, this man had been the child of a serf.

”Report!”

The caravan was long, so messages could not be relayed by shouting but by guards riding back and forth on horseback. These guards were either graduates of Hamlet’s training camps or had been rigorously drilled. Unlike typical Caravan Guards, who relied mainly on brute force, these men understood cooperation and had received military training. The caravan had faced numerous enemies—bandits, crazed refugees, and armed deserters—yet had survived intact each time, a testament to their competence.

”What’s the matter?” Vick asked, his gaze steady and fearless as he looked at the scout who had just returned.

The convoy was cumbersome and could easily be ambushed if caught off guard. Therefore, for their safety, they had to deploy mobile guards to scout the surroundings. However, this required a significant number of horses. Ordinary caravans would prefer to use these horses for pulling additional carts for profit rather than for security, as each extra cart meant more revenue. Perhaps it wasn’t unwillingness but a lack of resources; this was why smaller caravans had poor risk resilience.

”We’ve spotted a group up ahead, Sir. They appear to be afflicted with a strange disease. Should we drive them away?”

Vick frowned at the news. His soldiers had learned some first aid and were well aware of the horrors of infectious diseases.

”We’re a caravan now, not the private army of some decadent noble. Why would you suggest something so domineering?” Vick quickly dismissed the idea. ”Bullying the weak isn’t our purpose. The road is wide enough. Adjust the caravan’s formation to avoid them, and don’t cause any trouble.”

Vick was no saint. While in Ovando City, he and Walter had orchestrated the ”grain battle” operation, leading teams disguised as bandits to rob other grain merchants, only to sell the stolen goods back to them. But now, they were a caravan and needed to play their roles convincingly. Not to mention, with many craftsmen in their group, he didn’t want to invite complications over such a trivial matter.