Our Family Has Fallen

Vick called out desperately, but no one responded.

If they truly had the courage, they wouldn’t have fallen to such straits.

”The Mire Gang has thirty-odd members.”

”I’m not going to throw my life away.”

”It feels like it’s better to...”

Looking at their numb expressions, Vick felt an impulse to grab a weapon and cut them down too. A bunch of worthless trash! But then he suddenly felt a sense of release, for he realized he had once been much like them. It was My Lord who had saved him.

”I’ll go.” At this moment, a man, beaten so badly he could barely stand, apathetically picked up a small knife from the ground and struggled to his feet.

Although surprised, Vick seized the opening and shouted to the others, ”Do you want to rot here, get strung up and beaten to death for going down to the river, or come with me and overthrow the Mire Gang? Make your choice!”

As he spoke, he bent down, pulled a money pouch from the corpse of the gang underling, and raised it above his head. ”Take back what belongs to you!”

”Count me in!” A ragged, sallow-faced man stood up.

”Damn it! I’ve had enough of this life.”

”Let’s do it!”

More and more people stood up. Whatever their reasons, at this moment, they stood.

Vick encouraged them to arm themselves, which meant grabbing harpoons, binding sharp fish-killing knives to sticks, or finding various other distinctive makeshift weapons nearby.

”Let’s go!” Vick shouted, leading the crowd towards the Mire Gang’s den. But before they had gone far, a companion called out to him.

”Big Brother! They’ve run off.”

Vick looked back and saw that the crowd that had just been swarming behind him was now reduced to only the man covered in cuts and bruises. This sentence surfaced uncontrollably in Vick’s mind: I get it. They just back whoever is winning.

At this moment, he understood he was not like My Lord, lacking that radiance which inspires awe and unconditional loyalty. Likewise, they weren’t Hamlet’s People. Expecting these men to risk their lives for him was unrealistic, even naive.

Vick handed the money pouch back to the man. ”You go back. Take your parents with you.”

”Take this money. I have no use for it anymore.” The man’s courage had deflated, powerlessness flooding his entire being.

”How could money be useless?” Vick seemed to sense something and questioned the man further until he broke down.

Listening to the story the man poured out made Vick and the few who had remained feel a suffocating despair, but Vick keenly perceived something important.

”Ovando City doesn’t just have one conglomerate. If one doesn’t want you, go to another. I’ve escorted ships for quite a few conglomerates. I heard that the Walter Conglomerate is hiring, and they don’t just pay money; they also provide grain.”

In these times, money might not be that useful, but grain was different.

Vick quickly sent the man on his way, then gathered his team of ten.

”What do we do now?”

”It’s only thirty or forty thugs. Five or six are already gone, and not all the rest are even present. They’ll go down with a couple of slashes each.”

Vick wasn’t worried. If My Lord had entrusted him with this important mission, his strength was naturally not to be underestimated, and he had been blessed by My Lord. These riffraff didn’t scare him. His original plan was just to build some momentum and find an excuse; whether people actually came or not wasn’t important.

”Should we spare those who surrender?”

”No survivors.” Vick looked coldly ahead. ”Scum like that deserve to die!”

As Vick led his men to raid the Mire Gang’s den, a decrepit fisherman’s hut, one that had stubbornly stood for who knows how many years, erupted in fierce flames and collapsed into ashes.

「...」

The ecosystem within the Beast Lair was more troublesome than Lance had anticipated. After venturing deeper, those fat pigs weren’t as common, confirming their higher place in the ecosystem. As a relatively more perfect creation among the Pigmen, their numbers were naturally rarer.

Because of their violent strength, Lance temporarily named them ”Pigman Mob” to facilitate recording and describing this monster. In contrast, another kind of small Pigman was recorded as ”Pigman Concealer,” based on its stealthy traits, to remind those who read the records of this Pigman’s special abilities.

Lance intended to make written records, so the names he came up with sounded somewhat like game monsters, rather out of place. Boudica, on the other hand, habitually referred to them by their features, calling those that used hammers ”Hammer Pigs,” or by their physique, ”Big Fatty Pigs.”

Similarly, when describing Pigman Concealers, Boudica preferred to use the term ”Mushroom.” These nicknames, along with ”Knife Pig,” ”Hook Pig,” or calling the slender ones ”Sprout,” the tall and thin ”Bamboo Pole,” the short ones ”Mushroom,” and the stout ones ”Fatty” or ”Big Guy,” all possessed Boudica’s characteristic earthy simplicity.

However, the small numbers of the Pigman Mob didn’t mean the pressure in the Beast Lair lessened. This was because Pigman assassins appeared with alarming frequency, like cockroaches; who knew how many were hiding in the darkness.

They would use all sorts of ways to sneak up and launch attacks. Fortunately, Lance had the foresight to place the two Spellcasters in the middle of the formation. His position at the rear of the group also cut off some of their attacks. In this dark environment, the Pigman Concealers were like fish in water. Their swift movements still caused trouble for Lance and his team, and the pressure they exuded was immense, especially when their numbers increased.

Like the fierce battle currently unfolding within the Beast Lair.