Our Family Has Fallen

To be honest, Lance didn’t care whether Count Bastia continued the invasion of Hamlet. In fact, he didn’t care at all. He was indifferent even if those regions controlled by the Sect of Ascension were pulverized.

Lance wanted them to see Hamlet as a tempting prize, using their hands to deplete the Old Ancestor.

This battle made him realize that death was uncontrollable; the Old Ancestor was constantly absorbing power every day in places he couldn’t see.

His initial plans had been a bit too naive. He couldn’t control every part of Hamlet, and the Old Ancestor was ordering takeout every day.

So, he decided to accelerate the process—full throttle.

He would expose Hamlet’s weaknesses to attract those greedy bastards—using the tiger to devour the wolf—while he himself would head north and strike directly at the heart of his true objective.

Even if those nobles truly had the strength to fight their way to the town’s gates, Lance was confident he could take care of them. Humans had never been a match for him.

This wasn’t arrogance; Lance felt it was confidence.

”Rest well. Once the ransom arrives, you can go back. Don’t cause any trouble,” he said.

After deceiving Alvin, Lance left the prison. He continued carrying the candlestick, moving forward through the dark, lightless corridor. Baron Lawrence was imprisoned in a deeper cell.

Upon entering the room, unlike Laura’s attack or Alvin’s resistant attitude, the Baron greeted Lance’s arrival with calm composure.

His robust figure lay on the bed, chest and abdomen swathed in bulging bandages.

”Let’s talk.”

Lance seemed casual, pulling out a stool from the Exhibition Room. This reaction usually signified his approval.

Among all the prisoners, Lawrence was the only one able to withstand Amanda’s interrogation. With his strong will, it was no wonder he could become Count Bastia’s right-hand man.

”You managed to save me even with wounds like these,” the Baron remarked. He showed no strong resistance; provoking others when not threatened was something Alvin would do, not him.

”What’s so difficult about that? Hamlet’s medical capabilities are top-tier in this world.”

Lance wasn’t exaggerating. With Grendel handling internal medicine and Paracelsus surgery, combined with Lance’s own Flesh Reconstruction, they could even cure leprosy. A mere penetrating wound like the Baron’s was trivial in comparison.

”We’re discussing your ransom. I’ve set it at 1,000,000 Gold Coins. Do you think Count Bastia will pay up?”

Lawrence paused at this, then a bitter smile touched his lips, though the desolation in his eyes was hard to conceal.

He knew he wouldn’t be returning...

Lance didn’t press him on his silence, instead voluntarily changing the subject.

”Tell me about your operation this time. I’m afraid Alvin and those knights are too young and might have overlooked some details.”

Although Lance was fairly certain the Warwolf had come to find Wang Cai to complete a ritual, the Old Ancestor’s interference still made him somewhat apprehensive.

”No one can produce one million, but I can give you 300,000 Gold Coins. That’s my entire family fortune,” Lawrence replied, deflecting the previous question, his tone shifting.

His family situation was somewhat unique. He had only one daughter, yet he held a Baron’s Domain. Furthermore, the fief knights under his command had accompanied him here. Without a strong heir, his daughter would likely be preyed upon by others until nothing was left.

Why did Lawrence support Alvin so wholeheartedly?

Because Alvin was betrothed to his daughter. Lawrence, having lost his wife early in life, treasured this daughter above all else.

Did Lance know about this? He certainly did; he had heard it from Alvin himself.

And knowing this was precisely why he played this card right from the start.

Lance looked at him and smiled. Everyone has a weakness...

”Hmph. Are you joking?”

Lance remained perfectly composed, like a fisherman waiting for a bite, his demeanor gradually growing more arrogant—he was starting to look very much like a villain.

”Leading a raid on Hamlet, boasting that 30 elite cavalry could breach the town, and planning to capture me alive—where has all that bravado gone now?

You think you can leave with just 300,000 Gold Coins? Do you really believe Hamlet is a place you can come and go as you please?”

Hearing this, the color drained further from Baron Lawrence’s face. Truth be told, even during the cavalry clash, he hadn’t believed these irregulars stood a chance against his own Order of Knights.

But reality was so absurd. Who could have imagined Hamlet was such a cursed place?

Take him hostage?

Baron Lawrence merely entertained the thought. His injuries, though not life-threatening, would tear open with any significant movement.

Not to mention the strength of the man before him...

He didn’t know if others had seen it, but he had personally witnessed Lance effortlessly slice through armor and man alike, and casually knock Alvin off his horse with a single blow.

He acknowledged he was no match for such strength. Besides, why else would this man dare to sit there so confidently before him?

Baron Lawrence wasn’t one of those impulsive youths. Seasoned in warfare, he understood he had no chance of winning.

”What do you want from me?” Baron Lawrence knew Lance must have had a reason for saving him.

Lance noticed his wavering. It seemed his loyalty to Count Bastia wasn’t as firm as one might think.

”Tell me about your journey here.”

Lance was in no rush. The Baron and Count Bastia hadn’t exactly demonstrated unwavering loyalty to each other over the years, so there was no expectation of loyalty towards him.

Baron Lawrence was unaware of Lance’s intentions, but for now, he could only play along regarding matters that didn’t involve crucial information.

The details he provided were much the same as what the others had said; there was nothing particularly special.

During this exchange, Lance also filled him in on the Sect of Ascension. It was only then that Baron Lawrence realized he had fallen into the heretics’ trap.

”Just now, Alvin asked for my thoughts on the battle, and I told him...” Lance briefly recounted his earlier conversation with Alvin.

Alvin had taken the bait easily, but Baron Lawrence could sense the trap within Lance’s words.

Even if those men were truly heretics, the Order of Knights hadn’t been attacked at all during the latter half of the battle. They were in good condition and hadn’t been significantly affected.

They lost simply because they were outmatched. The battlefield always speaks with facts.

But Baron Lawrence quickly realized: knowing all this only further proved that Lance wouldn’t release him, didn’t it?

The slight relief that had appeared on his face vanished instantly, replaced by an even uglier expression.

A few words had exposed his weakness, and Lawrence’s recent reaction made Lance even more certain that he couldn’t let him leave Hamlet. It also reconfirmed that the Warwolf’s objective had nothing to do with the Old Ancestor, at least not previously. Thus, the conversation ended there.

”Good night.”

Lance stood up to leave, but Baron Lawrence spoke.

”I admit you’re formidable, but you don’t want to cross Count Bastia. He’s not some inexperienced whelp like Alvin. Just ask around—he’s one of the Empire’s six Legendary figures: the Barbarian Conqueror, the Nightmare of the Mountains, Bastia’s Lord...”

Lance paid no heed to his words, casually interrupting before he could finish. ”If I wanted to kill him, it would only take a single strike.”

As the iron door shut, Baron Lawrence finally processed what had just happened. He lay powerless on the bed, gasping heavily, his face etched with undeniable fear. No one knew what he had just endured.

Lance wasn’t bragging. He had already slain the champion-strength, doubly mutated Warwolf. The so-called ’certified levels’ of these individuals and what a system ’panel’ might display were completely disproportionate to true power.

Legendary? I just killed someone they called Legendary.

Lance had intended to leave, but as he was passing by, he heard some strange noises and couldn’t help but walk toward them.

Flickering candlelight escaped through the crack of a half-open door. The closer he got, the louder the sounds became—lewd noises, all too familiar to him. They rose and fell, clearly indicating more than one person was inside.

Well, well! Having an orgy and not inviting me, huh!

Without hesitation, Lance pushed the door open and entered.