Our Family Has Fallen

The Earl and Bruce couldn’t help but exchange looks, both able to see the abnormality in the other’s eyes. After all, they were all too familiar with the name Hamlet, as they had just been discussing it. They had been contemplating how to take over the remaining territories of Hamlet and, by doing so, elevate Bastia to a new level.

The Earl considered himself to be very cautious. As soon as news of Hamlet surfaced, he acted without delay, ensuring no time for development—he had been utterly ruthless.

They had thought their greatest foes would be the surrounding Noble Lords or possibly the impacts from the Barbarian Tribes and the Empire.

Therefore, their recent discussion had revolved around the local situation and how to take Hamlet in this larger context.

But they had never anticipated that an entire Order of Knights would be captured by the newly emerged Hamlet!

What did this mean? Capturing them alive was far more difficult than killing them!

The Earl could have tolerated their deaths, as that would have served as a pretext for action. However, being captured... this brought the greatest trouble to the plan he had been scheming for years.

”Keep talking. Reveal everything you saw and heard.”

The Earl didn’t speak, but Bruce, already understanding, hurriedly urged her on.

”They didn’t mention exactly how they captured the Order of Knights, but they talked about demanding a ransom. It seems they don’t yet know the identity of the Knights. I didn’t dare to stay too long, fearing exposure, so I left quickly. I don’t know the specifics.”

Laura clutched the wound at her waist, a painful expression masking a trace of unease.

She knew the more she said, the more her story would unravel. In front of these powerful figures, it was best not even to feign ignorance, but simply to keep silent, lower her head, and affect utter ignorance to their questions.

Fortunately, the injury provided sufficient cover; otherwise, she might have given herself away from the start.

”You’ve done well.” The Earl, seemingly realizing he couldn’t get more out of this fugitive from the Eagle Flock, waved his hand to the Butler beside him. ”Take her away and have the doctor treat her.”

Upon hearing this, Laura’s bowed face twitched slightly.

War and active mercenary activity had driven the advancement of Bastia’s treatment of external injuries. An experienced doctor could judge the weapon used and the time of injury just by looking at a wound. Those with even more experience could even discern the angle and force of the blow.

It was clear that the doctor assigned to the castle was undoubtedly Bastia’s best. If he saw through her deception...

But could she refuse?

Going to the doctor was a gamble on him not discovering the truth. Refusal, however, likely meant instant death.

”Please, follow me.”

The Butler’s voice snapped her back to reality. With no other choice, Laura could only steel herself and follow. Her movements became even more awkward, sweat beaded on her face, and her body trembled.

They didn’t go directly to the doctor. The castle had many rooms; one was selected, and a servant was dispatched to summon the doctor.

Soon, a middle-aged man walked in. He was dressed in a modest robe, had a short beard and glasses, and carried a leather bag, looking like a Scholar.

The Butler seemed to have no intention of leaving, standing aside with a standard, yet emotionless, smile on his face.

”Lie down. The doctor will cure you.”

Laura dared not resist and lay down on the bed. The doctor put on leather gloves and took out scissors, forceps, and other such instruments from his bag.

Visibly, Laura’s already pale face grew even more haggard, completely drained of color. Her lips trembled slightly, as if the movement had aggravated her wound.

The doctor cut open the bandage wrapped around her waist, revealing a charred wound. There were clear burn marks; the surface layer of Flesh had even turned to char. Beneath it, dark red, festering Flesh was exposed, continuously oozing blood.

Upon seeing this, both the doctor and the Butler couldn’t help but stare, momentarily stunned.

”The wolves of the Fang Tribe can track their prey by the scent of blood, so it’s crucial to stop the bleeding quickly to evade pursuit,” Laura added, offering an explanation.

Why had she only thought of this method after seeing the musket competition?

Creating a wound wasn’t difficult; the real challenge was concealing its true nature.

As someone truly ruthless, she had stabbed herself with an arrow and then used gunpowder to burn the wound, utterly destroying any identifying marks.

She had thought she could fool them, but the Earl’s order had almost exposed her.

Forced into a corner, during the walk following the Butler, she had dug at the wound under her green robe. The agony made her break out in a cold sweat, but it also mangled the injury into an unrecognizable state.

It was clear that someone like Laura, a member of the Eagle Flock who served the Earl like a dog, wouldn’t be given precious Potions. The doctor said nothing, merely picked up his tools, began to clean the wound, applied medicine, and bandaged it.

Meanwhile, after Laura departed, a strange atmosphere descended upon the study. It was Bruce who finally broke the silence.

”Father, what do we do now?”

”Why do you think this has happened?” The Earl had calmed down by now. He wanted to use this chance to train his Heir.

”The loyalty of Bastia’s Knights is undeniable. They wouldn’t surrender to any enemy,” Bruce furrowed his brows. He could think of only one possibility for such an event. ”Unless that loyalty was exploited...”