Chapter 14 The Truth of the Invasion <TOC> Chapter 16 Let the Bullets Fly for a Moment
Translator: SumTLMan
Within a vast storage room, a corner was heaped with bags of grain. The ones at the bottom showed signs of mold, possibly due to dampness or prolonged contact with the ground.
Nearby, several oak barrels lay, emanating a faint aroma of wine as one drew closer.
While the world outside saw many starve, having consumed even wild plants in desperation, here grains lay rotting, with even surplus left for brewing. Truly, the mayor lived a lavish life.
Lance, observing the scene, remained silent, taking note of the room’s setup.
There was also a bed, with the room resembling more of a sanctuary than a storage. It became evident that when the bandits had invaded, the mayor had likely sought refuge here.
On the other side stood a wooden rack filled with boxes of various sizes, and several large wooden crates on the ground, some of which Dismas had already opened.
Portraits, busts, tapestries, and antique ornaments. Being an archaeologist by profession, Lance had a keen sense for such relics. These artifacts exuded a noble charm. Amongst these antiques, a symbol caught his eye: a soaring raven on a shield, at the center of which stood a castle, and behind it, a black emblem resembling rays of light.
Wasn’t this the insignia of his own family? What was it doing here?
Looking again at the aristocratic pieces, Lance realized with mounting anger, “This is the heritage passed down through my lineage!”
It was unclear what business had transpired between the mayor and his steward, but from what lay here, it was evident that Lance’s ancestral inheritance was being siphoned away.
Unbearable.
A gasp drew Lance’s attention to another crate filled with copper coins. Even though they were mere copper coins, their sheer number was undeniably astonishing.
Only Reynard seemed indifferent, sparing it just a brief glance.
Further inspection revealed another crate, mostly filled with copper coins, but scattered amongst them were the gleams of silver. Five such crates were present, and it was hard to estimate their exact value, but it was clear that the majority of the town’s wealth was consolidated here.
Such a rural town had few places to spend money, mostly transacted in copper. This wealth was likely amassed by the mayor and the farm owners by inflating grain prices, bleeding the ordinary folks dry.
Lance picked up a handful, the sound of coins trickling through his fingers calming his agitated nerves. The reassuring tinkle had a strangely soothing effect on him.
“The mayor’s theft of my inheritance wasn’t enough? He’s also exploiting the townsfolk with the farm owners,” Lance exclaimed, frustration evident in his voice.
“Such men deserve nothing less than death!” Dismas echoed in agreement. The sight of the coins now invoked memories of his past oppression and exploitation, which had driven him to the life of a highwayman.
Lance rummaged through the crates and handed ten silver coins to each.
“We wield our swords for a brighter tomorrow. Following me offers no titles or lands, but you’ll be paid. It might not be much now, but as the town flourishes, so will your wages,” Lance joked, though Dismas hesitated to accept, clearly resistant.
“I don’t deserve this.”
Lance understood Dismas’s guilt and tried to comfort him, “Everyone makes mistakes. If I’m willing to give you another chance, why wouldn’t you grant one to yourself?”
Handing him the coins, Lance pressed, “Take this and prove your worth to me.”
Holding Lance’s hand, emotions overwhelmed Dismas, leaving him at a loss for words. A feeling welled up in his chest, making it hard to breathe. Trying hard to hold back tears, he turned away to hide his emotions, overwhelmed by Lance’s unwavering trust and the opportunity he was offering.
Reynard, watching the two, found their reactions puzzling. Recalling the recent commotion at the brothel, he couldn’t help but wonder what had transpired.
“What happened earlier?”
Facing a formidable adversary, a minor lapse by Dismas almost proved disastrous. Still, he managed to turn the tides.
Lance tried to shield him from the embarrassment of that moment, but Dismas, unable to bear the internal turmoil, spoke candidly, “When I encountered the corrupted butler upstairs, the sight of his monstrous transformation paralyzed me with fear. It was the lord who stepped in and delivered the fatal blow.”
Having confessed this, Dismas heaved a sigh of relief. Lance glanced at him approvingly, encouraging him with a grin, “Only by confronting our fears can we truly grow.”
Reynard, however, seemed taken aback, unable to hide his astonishment beneath his helmet.
“A monster?”
“Indeed, the butler had long been transformed into such a creature. Anyone seeing him for the first time would be dumbstruck. In truth, it wasn’t me who defeated him; it was the power coursing through my veins, a legacy passed down from my ancestor.”
He decided to change the subject, “From the butler, I learned that he was, in fact, a spy for a sinister cult within our family. The previous lord had been slain by the butler and his cultist allies to seize our bloodline. The butler had been ruling in the lord’s name, while the cultists, utilizing the power of our bloodline, began tampering with a seal. They attracted bandits to slaughter the townspeople, intending to use the power of blood and flesh to break the seal.”
Dismas, unable to contain his urgency, interjected, “Doesn’t that mean we’re running out of time?”
“Stay calm,” Lance assured with an air of composure. “The seal left by my ancestor isn’t so easily tampered with. They summoned me back under the lord’s guise because they encountered problems with the seal. For now, we needn’t fret too much about this. Our priority lies in rallying like-minded individuals within the town.”
Having concluded their secret discussions, Lance and his party left the chamber, heading towards Susan’s home.
After assessing the condition of the wounded Man-at-Arms, Lance immediately employed the [Blood and Flesh Reconstruction].
Feeling the freshly acquired Gift flow like a river into the old soldier’s wounds, Lance spared no effort in maintaining the process. The miraculous sight that unfolded before them showed the wounds being cleansed, the tainted tissue expelled, and fresh muscle growing rapidly to fill the void, leaving only a delicate scar in its place.
Yet, the Man-at-Arms remained unconscious. Lance shifted his efforts from healing to fortifying. The drain on the Gift surged, but under its potent influence, every organ in the old soldier’s body began to rejuvenate, and his heartbeats grew stronger and more resolute.
Chapter 14 The Truth of the Invasion <TOC> Chapter 16 Let the Bullets Fly for a Moment