Our Family Has Fallen

But facing a top predator like the Warwolf, it still aroused its instinctual fear and ran away.

However, it wasn’t too far away, and when called upon, it scurried right back.

Lance mounted the horse, then reached out to Grendel.

”Come.”

With a simple word, Grendel put her hand in his and was pulled up onto the horse, her back involuntarily pressing against his strong chest, which instantly made her body tense up.

It was the first time she had been so close to a man…

”Hold tight.”

Lance didn’t waste words and spurred the horse into a gallop. His thoughts were not on Grendel at all, but immersed in his interface.

She had interrupted his review of the interface earlier, but now he finally had time to take a good look at his gains.

He focused his awareness on the interface. The first thing he saw was that the level column had finally changed from ”Master” to ”Champion.”

He had been in battle at the time and hadn’t noticed exactly when it happened, but he’d felt a clear surge in strength—probably at the moment he killed the monster. It was an exhilarating feeling, simply thrilling!

Thrilling as it was, the promotion to Champion had almost depleted the Spiritual Essence he had accumulated on the trip to the Beast Lair, Spiritual Essence he had intended to use to enhance the overall strength of others.

It had even touched some of his savings, and most of the rewards from the battle were equipment, with no replenishment of Spiritual Essence.

It couldn’t be helped; the Warwolf was the strongest enemy he had encountered. If he hadn’t used the Spiritual Essence on himself, Lance wasn’t sure he would still be alive.

You win some, you lose some—he had essentially traded it for two Legendary items and an increase to his own strength.

Of course, there were other benefits.

”Flesh Reconstruction” had leveled up again, requiring less Spiritual Essence during healing but with stronger healing capabilities.

More importantly, he had gained a deeper understanding of flesh. If he could improve it further, Lance felt he might be able to touch upon the divine domain.

If the old man hadn’t tried to be clever and boosted the Warwolf, Lance probably couldn’t have found so much Power of Flesh and Blood. It could only be said that the old man still thought of him, his Heir, when he had good stuff.

You should say, ”Thank you, old man!”

This could only be considered a gift from the old man; the actual reward from the Warwolf was below.

The ability column had long listed ”Bless,” ”Sacrifice,” and ”Flesh Reconstruction,” but now a new one had appeared: ”Bloodhound Tracking.”

The name was strange and didn’t seem like a combat ability.

Out of curiosity, Lance activated it immediately, only to be caught off guard by a strange sensation in his nostrils, followed by a stench that rushed to his brain.

However, within two or three seconds, the stench dissipated—or rather, he became used to it, and what entered his nostrils instead was a whiff of floral scent.

Lance couldn’t help but bring his attention back to reality. Looking down slightly, he spotted Grendel’s thick green hair—the source of the fragrance.

But soon, his attention was drawn elsewhere—to the land, the grass, the scent of humans, livestock, and the reek of blood in the distance…

When he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, the world appeared in his mind in the form of scents.

Question? Enlightenment!

His understanding of this ability went from confusion to enlightenment in perhaps only an instant. Simply put, using ”Bloodhound Tracking” granted him an extraordinary sense of smell.

He could sense the environment within a one or two-kilometer range and even track prey through residual scents. This was indeed a very practical ability.

However, Lance could hardly imagine the pressure he’d have to endure if he activated this ability in the Beast Lair.

A normal person’s sense of smell would hardly cope; with this ability activated, he’d probably be knocked out by the stench.

Another change on the interface was that the trait ”Wolf Spirit Protection” had disappeared, meaning the Wolf Spirit no longer clung to him but seemed like an independent entity…

”Can you tell me exactly what happened?”

Lance knew that this matter wasn’t over yet. What did the Warwolf’s invasion have to do with the old geezer?

Grendel didn’t waste any words and quickly explained what she had witnessed…

「At this time, everyone at the farm was huddled in its core area.」

The farm was large, with over a thousand people inside, but it was clear that management was well-organized and had not fallen into chaos due to the recent attack.

Among those ordinary people, the elderly and weak had been moved to the rear, while those capable of fighting had taken up firewood knives, Lumber Axes, scythes, pitchforks, wooden flails… any tool that could pass as a weapon to defend their homeland.

At this moment, three horses suddenly galloped through the farm, soldiers on their backs shouting.

”My Lord has arrived with reinforcements!”

”The enemy has been repelled by the reinforcements!”

”The enemy leader has been slain by My Lord!”

”My Lord has annihilated the enemy!”

Soon, this news spread throughout the entire farm. The Lord’s arrival had rescued them from their intense distress.

That pressure transformed into cheers that echoed across the farm.

”It’s My Lord!”

”With My Lord here, our farm is safe!”

”…”

Lance rode in on his horse, naturally drawing the attention of the people on the farm. Approaching them, he raised his Longsword in one hand and shouted.

”Hamlet Must Win!”

At these words, the common folk immediately erupted, shouting in unison.

”Hamlet Must Win!”

Lance rode among them. His presence served to tell the people that Hamlet had the power to protect them, and he, as their Lord, had the power to protect them.

Under normal circumstances, it was already fortunate if a Lord didn’t forcibly conscript them to their deaths. Having a Lord who actually stood up for them in their time of need was a marvelous, even rare, experience.

At the same time, their sense of belonging to Hamlet was growing; having truly suffered hardship, they didn’t want to flee and wander anymore.

After making a round, Lance returned to the temporary command post. Most of the soldiers had gone out to set up defenses around the farm, while the company commander remained stationed there to direct things.

Similarly, the injured were brought here, because only the military personnel had some knowledge of battlefield first aid, and they were the only ones with medicine.

As Lance entered, he saw Grendel with a somewhat solemn expression.

”How is the situation?”

”The child is still too young. His condition is very unstable.”

”Take me to him quickly.”

Without wasting words, Lance went straight to the temporary infirmary.

Upon entering, he saw a boy lying on a bed, his blood-soaked clothes cut open to reveal grievous claw marks on his chest.

The wound appeared to have been treated urgently; the bleeding had stopped, but the everted flesh still looked horrific, as if his heart and lungs might spill out.

The Fang Tribe’s white wolves were no ordinary wild wolves. Such a wound would be grievous even on an adult. Despite timely medical attention, he was just barely clinging to life. Without some special intervention, death seemed the inevitable outcome.

”It’s all my fault... Brother, don’t leave me...”

Lance also noticed a little girl by the bedside calling out, her eyes filled with tears, her voice already hoarse.

This must be the ”lucky child” Grendel mentioned, the one who underwent an Extraordinary awakening.

However, Lance couldn’t afford to observe slowly; he hurried forward.

”Don’t be afraid. Leave it to me.”

With that, Lance raised his hand in front of the girl and placed it on the boy’s chest. Flesh Reconstruction activated, and the grievous wound began to heal at a visibly rapid pace, old blood scabs falling away to reveal fresh, pink skin underneath.

It seemed the sensation from the healing wound stimulated him; the unconscious boy twitched in response.

This reaction brought the dazed little girl back to her senses. She clutched the boy’s hand, calling out.

”Brother! Brother!”

”Don’t worry, he’ll be fine. He will wake up soon; he just needs to rest now,” Lance’s tone softened involuntarily. He knelt in front of her and gently wiped the tears from her face. ”When your brother wakes up and sees you crying, that won’t be good.”

The little girl immediately choked back her sobs, looking up at him.

Lance subconsciously found a topic to divert her attention.

”What’s your name?”

”Mary,” came the reply, tinged with a sob from the little girl.

”And your brother?”

”Tom.”