Our Family Has Fallen

Chapter 980: Chapter 552: Wealth of Arms (Part 2)

The Pigman who had retreated into the passage earlier rushed out first.

Tadiff felt like he was losing his mind looking at these maniacs. He was just a mercenary, supposed to handle things without too much mental burden, but he had his principles when it came to getting paid.

”Damn it, pay me more... more money!” Tadiff’s face beneath his helmet appeared ferocious as he drew his axe, disregarding the shattered scale armor on him and the gaping wound, charging at the Pigman.

Others were also ready for a desperate fight at this moment, but none had expected the scene that unfolded.

The Pigman who had rushed out suddenly paused in his steps, and in the next second, a longsword pierced through its back and emerged from its chest.

As the sword was withdrawn, the Pigman’s body collapsed, revealing the figure behind wearing tattered armor.

At the same time, a soft voice spoke.

”I hope I’m not too late.”

Lance walked out from the passage, his gaze pierced through the corroded visor, looking at everyone, understanding just how brutal their battle had been.

Lance was even shocked by their persistence.

Fighting with Pigmen was known to be the nastiest. The wounds inflicted by Pigmen weapons were irregular and carried viruses and bacteria, not to mention the spray of their vomit.

Bleeding, corrosion, sickness—these were conditions almost inevitable, highlighting the flaw in Junia’s Divine Arts.

The sorcery of Pigman drummers and priests seized the mind, evoking fear and pain, difficult to heal.

Yet, in the presence of Lance,

With one step, Flesh Reconstruction restored everyone’s injuries, no matter how severe, in a single breath.

All traces of bleeding and corrosion were eliminated, pain instantly relieved, and those gravely injured and barely clinging to life stood back up.

With a second step, Bless cleared away various negative states accumulated in their bodies: torment, fatigue, spiritual depletion, and even the gaze from other realms.

Strengthening brought effects that pushed their exhausted bodies to their limits, renewing them into perfect vitality once more.

With the third step, Lance raised his hand, and crates of supplies appeared in the camp: firearms, ammunition, swords, helmets, armor—everything they needed.

He alone was an armory—the Hamlet Armory!

All the problems faced by everyone were solved within Lance’s three steps, although it did cost a considerable amount of spiritual essence, but having consumed several rounds of rich meats, he was not concerned.

”It’s the boss! Hell yeah!” Boudica let out an excited shriek, raising her axe spear in celebration.

With Lance by her side, Boudica felt she could fight forever; she felt an immense power surging, yearning to cut down some heretics.

Geralt and Junia’s exhausted spiritual essence was restored gently and smoothly, their strength regained in their grasp.

Alhazred finally broke free from the Void’s gaze, finding a moment of safety, and let out a long breath in relief.

More importantly, morale was lifted.

The deathly aura that shrouded everyone due to Lance’s arrival instantly dissipated, replaced by excitement and exhilaration.

Lance’s appearance erased all pressure from the group; most were filled with fervor.

For them, Lance was hope!

But the heretics wouldn’t wait for them to adjust. They were already charging in.

”The enemy’s here, grab your weapons!”

Lance quickly stepped forward to confront the enemy, while his comrades with broken weapons also switched to better gear.

Running into an abundance of ammunition when you were almost out was like a thirsty person in the desert finding an oasis.

Barrett grabbed a musket, his hand scooping up a handful of bullets and stuffing them into his pocket. For some reason, he felt like crying.

Most were too rushed to swap out damaged armor, but no one cared about that. They grabbed a weapon and followed the Lord into battle.

Even with this brief delay, the heretics had appeared in the mist-covered wild forest at dawn.

No words wasted, the battle erupted instantaneously.

Typically, Hamlet’s soldiers were reluctant to face heretics head-on; they preferred shooting or forming a defensive line to gain the advantage before approaching.

However, with Lance’s presence, everyone’s condition was at peak, and the trusted aides were fearless of close combat.

”Waaagh!!!”

Boudica, tired of their weakness, charged into a frenzied slaughter.

However, the others were relatively more conservative, forming small teams to coordinate.

Balistan, shield in hand, guarded Alhazred, protecting him from being interrupted during spellcasting and risking backlash.

Junia, focusing on eliminating heretics with Light of Judgment, didn’t need to split her focus for healing, instead using the returned power to activate the Iron Torch.

Without Lance, it would have been a massacre, but with him, it was a massacre nonetheless.

Only the roles were reversed.

The battle was intense; the heretics numbered over a hundred, more than twice their forces, fought in open terrain with mostly cold weapons.

It wasn’t quite perilous, even with two heretic deacons, namely Ascendant Seeds, merely holding their ground a bit longer.

These folks soon realized something was wrong; the typically mad elite heretics decided to flee.

”Hmph! Trying to run away?” Tadiff cast a grappling hook; the iron hook landed accurately on a fleeing heretic, piercing its flesh, and pulled it back with a stagger, while the axe swung down in the next second.

Recovered, Alhazred released shadows, from which dark tendrils extended to bind the heretics in place.

Junia issued beams of Light of Judgment that snatched the heretics’ lives.

Not to mention Barrett and Xize’s sniping, along with others’ pursuits.

Once the battle ended, Boudica laughed maniacally, her blood-soaked appearance revealing a touch of madness.

In the beginning, what was their fight like? Mostly at a disadvantage, beaten by heretics and Pigmen alike.

Now, under the Lord’s leadership, they easily repelled and even eradicated the evil they never dared to dream of before.

With overwhelming force, they crushed Ascension Sect’s delusion of reclaiming the third target.

The exhilarating battle provided everyone a release from their endured hardships.

Boudica’s laughter warmed the atmosphere; nothing was more satisfying than surviving disaster.

Lance didn’t intervene but sacrificed all the corpses instead.

Adding the hundred earlier, there had been three to four hundred dead Pigmen and heretics here, although Alhazred extracted some spiritual essence with the Blood Chalice, refining it into scarlet crystals, the spiritual return was scant.

Likewise, no gear was dropped; these items were from paupers indeed.

Lance, however, found little joy in this; like the corpses of the second target, he sensed minimal spiritual essence from these bodies, meaning the Ancestor must have absorbed a portion.

Slaughter and death were the Ancestor’s best nourishment; if things went awry, the Ancestor feared no war.

This was why Lance insisted on fighting on the frontline, always appearing on the scene.

But now things could only be this way; no one could make everything perfect—accidents and minor errors were always inevitable.

The excitement was momentary; once the adrenaline faded, fatigue inevitably set in.

The limits of the flesh could be eliminated by Bless, but mental exhaustion remained; don’t forget they had been fighting intermittently for a day and night, and the recent surge depleted their last ounce of energy.

”Take a rest, everyone. Don’t worry, I’m here.”

With the Lord’s presence, they felt infinitely assured; most people simply lay down, closed their eyes, and went silent, greedily trying to recover through sleep.

Lance also took off his helmet, placing it aside, then took out a pot to start cooking.

Geralt, with physiology altered by potions and rituals, could still endure, not needing as much rest. Compared to taking a break, he needed updates on the action.