Our Family Has Fallen

But strength comes at a price, and wearing this Armor demands more than just a set of clothes.

This thing uses the old ancestor’s technology, and activation means it is constantly greedy and craving flesh.

Only with the enemy’s flesh can this situation be alleviated; otherwise, it will devour the user’s flesh.

In a way, it also drives the user to continuously slaughter and then consume.

But if you think the cost ends there, then you underestimate the defying nature of the term ”Extraordinary” in this world.

Apart from flesh erosion, merely wearing it subjects you to the corruption of the Dark Flame, which is the Power of the Evil God.

Simply put, this Armor will devour the user’s flesh, and the Dark Flame will corrupt the user’s soul.

When he just took off the helmet, Lance’s face was almost disfigured, with his skin looking like it was tearing apart, and you must know he seldom gets hurt.

This was with a low level of erosion because it had been fed with the flesh of Looters and Heretics.

Beneath great power lies defying side effects, fitting well with Lance’s understanding of Supernatural Power; the more powerful it is, the more sinister it becomes.

With [Flesh Reconstruction] healing scars and [Sanctuary] immune to corruption, probably no one other than Lance in this world could use this Armor.

The sickening price reminded him of the Evil God that plagued Alhazred for years.

Compared to a solid extraordinary Armor, this Armor seems more like a projection from the Void Otherworld, apparent from its bizarre way of wearing.

It’s more like a ”summons” or ”transformation” rather than wearing.

And is that ring merely a key? A container? Or perhaps a medium?

Lance couldn’t care less about pursuing such trivial definitions; he just knew that the Armor would appear once the Dark Flame swept across it.

But even though it is so convenient, Lance was unwilling to use it casually, treating it more like a trump card for critical moments.

The price of this thing, even for him, isn’t something he can withstand every time.

Lance looked down; the blood-filled pits on the arm guard were disappearing, and once they were completely gone, maintaining the Armor would cost his own flesh.

This was just an experiment, so having understood it roughly, there wasn’t any need to maintain it further.

When the Dark Flame erupted from him and then dissipated, under the scorching glow on the side appeared scarred skin, as if something had gnawed a layer off it.

But it was immediately covered by new skin, though the scene was somewhat bizarre.

But when Lance stood there naked, the situation became even more surreal.

”Damn!” Lance cursed, quickly putting on his clothes; he had no hobby of streaking under the moon.

This is why Lance understood he absolutely wouldn’t want to use it.

Not wearing clothes after a big battle could only happen in some private places...

But when Lance regained his senses and looked at the town plunged into Hell around him, his expression lost all nonchalance.

This is why he didn’t rashly reclaim Hamlet; chaos and disorder had reigned for years, and who knows how many followers the Ascension Sect had developed.

Among the people encountered, who could tell the Heretics from ordinary people~

Lance didn’t leave immediately but instead started to collect the bodies in the small town; even mosquito meat is something the old ancestor can’t easily get, with him here, the old guy shouldn’t dream of a midnight snack tonight.

As he casually walked into the dilapidated house, Lance’s gaze fell upon the cluttered scene.

A disheveled woman crouched as if holding something, even in death without releasing it.

Curiously, Lance moved her, only to find a child of about three or four years old.

The scene made his gaze solemnly return to the mother, her body marked with countless bite marks; the flesh ripped from her, her body soaked in blood, yet the child she held bore no signs of being gnawed.

Without a doubt, no one in the town had survived.

If only he had arrived sooner, would they have...

Lance pressed his lips together, neither the battle just now nor the Armor’s backlash showed such gravity in Lance’s expression before.

The Ascension Sect knew it couldn’t exist openly and had previously maintained a façade of decency, primarily recruiting believers underground with secret gatherings.

Of course, a bigger reason was the Church still held some control over this power vacuum area.

The old ancestor feared drawing the Church’s attention.

But it can’t be denied that among these Church-protected towns, there was still a proportion of normal people.

By strategically retreating, he could avoid endless entanglement with the Ascension Sect and shun contact with the Church.

But does that count as abandoning these common people?

Naturally, Lance could console himself with the notion of ”necessary sacrifice.”

Moreover, they hadn’t paid their taxes to him, so he had no obligation to assume this responsibility.

But he knew, as the Lord of Hamlet, he had been derelict in his duty.

Indeed, he had given up; perhaps, to put it more simply, he hadn’t even tried to take on this part of his responsibility.

Though he wasn’t the direct killer of the town’s people, in a broader sense, he had pushed these commoners into Hell.

For as the Lord, all matters on this land fell under his accountability.

And now, this burden almost overwhelmed him, even more than confronting the Limping Walker.

He stood there dazed, his gaze fixed on the corpse.

Lance knew he wasn’t suited to being a good Lord; he was just an ordinary person lost in this world of despair, only capable of tending to matters at hand—who knows what comes afterward~

Suddenly letting out a long breath, he raised his hand to sacrifice all the bodies in the room, then walked into the next house without looking back...

The flames didn’t spiral out of control to consume the town; instead, when the ignited house turned to ashes and collapsed, the town returned utterly to silence.

As time passed, a glimmer of light gradually appeared on the horizon.

Morning light sprinkled golden rays onto the fields outside the town, brushing against heavy stalks of wheat swaying gently in the breeze; this year was destined to be a bumper harvest.

No matter what happened, the night would end, and the sun would rise as usual.

...

”Has the Lord not awakened yet?”

Last night, the army and the sheriff were dispatched to suppress the refugees, and then there was the emergency handling and resettling of refugees throughout the night, making quite a commotion; Grendel was curious about what happened.

”The Lord has not yet returned.”

In response to Grendel’s words, Susan appeared helpless and added, ”The Master suddenly left last night and hasn’t returned until now.”

Hearing this, Grendel’s expression turned subtle; she wasn’t worried about Lance’s safety, as no one could threaten him.

Rather, he had just led a team back from the Beast Lair yesterday; couldn’t he take a break?

”Can’t he just rest properly~” Grendel’s expression was full of helplessness.

What could Susan say? She could only see that Hamlet’s prosperity was built on the Lord’s toil.

”You know, last night the Master brought back three women. Though two were refugees, they were quite good-looking...”

Lance wasn’t there, but that didn’t stop the two from chatting. Gossiping is a human nature that cannot be resisted.

Hearing this, Grendel became curious. Would the Lord bring women back for no reason?

And three at once no less?

She was just about to gossip but was interrupted by a voice.

”What are you talking about so early in the morning?”

What’s the most terrifying thing when gossiping?

It’s definitely when the subject of your gossip suddenly appears behind you.

And the most terrifying, naturally, is when the subject hears something they shouldn’t have heard.

The familiar voice gave Grendel a start, and her complexion lost its usual composure, turning somewhat pale, with her lips trembling slightly; just that voice nearly called her soul back.