Our Family Has Fallen

Lance curled his lips, his expression showing a hint of disdain.

Too afraid to fight, only daring to engage in these petty tricks; these relics of the past are truly nothing but useless cowards.

”Send out the scouts; we need to accurately grasp the position of the refugees. No contact, no engagement is necessary.”

Lance calmly gave the orders; this was just the right opportunity to train the scouts’ abilities, though their opponents were not simple either.

”Bastia’s operations usually involve the Eagle Flock, a troop from the Barbarian Tribes. Their specialty is archery, and they raise birds as reconnaissance and combat aides.

So when you see birds circling overhead, be careful. Quickly distance yourself and avoid entering environments like forests; they are barbarians by birth and excel in such terrain.”

After capturing so many prisoners, few could withstand Amanda’s interrogations, and he essentially had a thorough understanding of Bastia’s army’s habits and style.

Any action would typically involve the Eagle Flock, and the attitudes of the knights towards them varied.

Some see the Eagle Flock as the eyes of the Order of Knights, allowing them to respond faster than the enemy.

Others, however, are dissatisfied, feeling that the Eagles are the Earl’s way of monitoring them.

Nonetheless, the power of the Eagle Flock cannot be denied, and it would be a challenge for these freshly trained scouts to face them.

”Defenses of other units must not be weakened. Any situation must be considered. Reality doesn’t follow logic; just because I judge they won’t attack doesn’t mean they won’t.”

Judgments based on intelligence analysis are only for reference. We must prepare for more extreme and adverse scenarios.

If they remain inactive, do you think the heretics won’t seize the opportunity to cause trouble? You are all seasoned commanders; I shouldn’t need to tell you this.”

Lance chastised their mindset; such trivial matters should not need his reminder.

”Yes!” The few couldn’t help but refocus their attention from the larger action back to solving this issue.

Reynard and Barton went to call off training, conserving strength to prepare for the impact.

Meanwhile, Dismas turned away to conduct reconnaissance, ensuring a firm grasp of enemy movements was his task.

Since the Warwolf invasion, the once-settled armies again stirred restlessly.

Lance, too, didn’t stop. Hamlet Town now processed no more than a hundred refugees daily, a four-figure situation had not happened in a long time.

Fortunately, there had been several instances before, so as long as preparations were made in advance, it shouldn’t be an issue.

Thinking that refugees could break through Hamlet Town was somewhat underestimating him.

......

”Ahead is Hamlet Town; I think we need to scout ahead.”

Laura approached the leader of the group, only for the chubby man to raise his hand with a smile as he refused.

”No need, we’re not going to war; we’re just here to do business. Don’t give people the impression of ill intent.”

Seeing this, Laura said nothing more and returned to the edge of the caravan, her face under the hood filled with contempt.

No one here is a fool; who does he think he’s fooling with those words?

She had witnessed them intentionally releasing these mobs along the way, allowing them to leave freely.

These people are ruthless; everyone knows what they’re capable of on Hamlet Town’s land.

Simultaneously, the large caravan gradually split into smaller groups, disguising themselves as merchant caravans, traversing Hamlet Town’s land, scouting the towns.

And you say this behavior is without ill intent?

However, Laura, having been refused, felt anxious.

Her reason for wanting to leave the group was simple: she wanted to contact that person ahead of time, report on the situation along the way, and provide warnings so they could prepare.

Otherwise, waiting for the refugees to descend would only complicate the situation.

She couldn’t afford to not demonstrate her importance.

Yet she couldn’t simply leave, as this would arouse suspicion.

With no choice, she suppressed her inner agitation, turning her gaze onto the refugees.

The refugees who could leave have left along the way, and those left behind are misfits with nowhere else to go.

Her eyes showed no trace of pity, as coldness is the nature of the eagle.

Weaklings should be weeded out!

The reason Laura so quickly adapted to joining Lance, outside of the Eagle Flock severing ties with the Earl, was largely due to witnessing the battle between Warwolf and Lance, being captivated by pure strength.

In this age, admiration for strength is far from uncommon; a wise bird chooses a tree to roost in.

But not everyone can be as free as her...

Margaret, mingling among the refugees, had faced an immense shock in just a few days, experiencing things she had never encountered in her life before.

She had long passed that emotionally turbulent phase and fell into numbness.

As this was her first time feeling hunger so intensely.

Unlike refugees who were used to hunger, she had never gone hungry, living on a diet though not extravagant, but certainly plentiful all her life.

Thus, her resistance to hunger was particularly low, her entire body weary and weak, everything on her felt particularly heavy.

Her throat felt like it was on fire, even breathing caused her body to continuously tremble. If not for a support, she might have collapsed; she finally bore the semblance of a refugee.

The woman beside her was in a similar state; they managed to hold on solely due to Laura’s secret aid along the way.

Hunger, thirst, exhaustion... the complicated state pulled Margaret into weakness. Now, she understood why the refugees seemed indifferent to changes in their surroundings.

Because hunger had nearly stalled their brains, leaving no room for other thoughts.

She also realized why the refugees would go crazy over a stone-hard black bread, even biting into flesh.

She understood... she finally understood it all!

Material things easily overpowered will...

If she felt this way, the situation amongst the refugees was likely worse, yet it only fueled rumors related to Hamlet Town further.

Because all they had left was hope; they believed reaching Hamlet Town would lead them to paradise.

Margaret, among them, couldn’t help but harbor a sliver of fantasy. She had not yet fallen, and supported by the woman next to her, she took step after step.

The refugees too had not stopped, harboring a pure desire as they advanced towards Hamlet Town.

As the sky gradually darkened, torches began to rise from the caravan. Laura couldn’t resist approaching the leader again.

”Sir, it’s very dangerous here at night; even the Fang Tribe’s barbarian warriors suffered losses. I suggest setting up camp nearby and proceeding at dawn.”

Laura walked alongside, having to look up through the carriage window at the leader inside.

She wasn’t trying to frighten, but genuinely warning.

Nights here were eerie, with an increasing sense of unease the closer you got to that place; she had fled overnight without daring to stop.

”We’re almost there.” The chubby man still smiled, but his squinting eyes held a mocking disdain for Laura.

Though she had suffered injuries here, such fear was truly useless.

Laura naturally sensed this, yet said nothing more, paused her steps, and returned to her position with the advancing caravan.

The eagle-like gaze swept over the twisted, bizarre trees around; she always felt something was watching them, prompting her to wrap tighter into her cloak.

At that moment, the hawk on the wagon’s edge suddenly took flight, emitting a sharp cry.

”Screech!”

As if sensing something, Laura’s cloak flared like outstretched wings, the short bow already in hand, still cursing in a difficult barbarian tongue.

”Damn fat chicken, I knew it!”

At the same time, from the forest beside the narrow path emerged strange men shouting incomprehensible phrases.

”Flesh Sacrifice to the Gods, we shall ascend together!”