Our Family Has Fallen

With the main force missing, before Balistan and Dismas could react, the monster let out a strange roar. At this, all the eyeballs on its body showed signs of fatigue and closed.

However, the effect of this outburst was immediate, plunging the two men nearby into fear. The suffocating pressure exploded, morphing into a despair that swallowed their reason.

"No! I have failed the Lord's expectations..."

"Oh, can we not defeat the enemy? Has the battle been lost?"

As for Reynard, lying on the ground, he lacked the strength even to speak. Just breathing sent searing pain through his body, and bloody froth trickled from his mouth and nose. His consciousness was fading.

Human strength is unable to overcome the monster... After losing the Lord, am I really so frail?

Monsters... What kind of catastrophe will Hamlet face?

My family, those townspeople, My Lord's plans... Everything will be destroyed...

Lying on his back, gazing at the sunlight filtering through his helmet, the words of the Lord echoed once again in Reynard's mind.

"What do you think of the sun? It symbolizes light, hope, warmth, strength..."

Sun... respond to me...

Reynard tried to raise his hand with all his might, wanting to grasp at the sun in the sky, but his body couldn't even support the effort. His hand drooped powerlessly, his eyes slowly closed, and the sunlight before him gradually faded...

But the monster did not stop. Its tentacles shot forward and coiled around Balistan. Just at this moment, a roar resounded.

"The sun has not set, and I have not fallen!"

Reynard struggled to his feet, his armor already battered and deformed, its chestplate marred with dents of various sizes.

The moment he stood, PUH! He spewed blood. With each step, fresh blood seeped from the cracks in his armor. No one knew how grievously injured he was underneath.

This was the price he paid as the main force against the monster...

But he had not fallen. He could not fall!

An unprecedented force surged from his heart, as hot, as warm, as powerful as the sun!

Reynard charged once more, his fearless aura instantly dispelling the fear in everyone's hearts.

"Revere the sun, monster!"

Moving swiftly, Reynard slashed at the tentacle coiled around Balistan. The blade of the Champion's Proof, suffused with a mysterious force, emitted a golden glow, and the incredibly tough tentacle was severed by his strike.

Before anyone could rejoice, Reynard collapsed after that single swing, his life hanging by a thread.

Balistan had just broken free from the severed tentacle when the monster, as if driven mad, let out a fierce roar. The severed tentacle showed no sign of regenerating from the stump.

But before they could take a closer look, the monster launched indiscriminate attacks, enveloping everything around it in its assault.

Dismas fired his musket trying to draw it away, but to no avail.

Balistan held his Shield, barely managing to protect himself, staunchly positioning himself before the fallen Reynard.

"Quick! Go and rescue the Commander!" Some soldiers, no longer fearing the grotesque, twisted monster, rushed forward and dragged Reynard out, incidentally freeing Balistan as well.

Yet the frenzied monster remained unmatched. It instinctively moved towards the densely packed military formations, wantonly spreading its despair-inducing terror.

Humans are social animals, requiring teamwork.

Where there is a team, there must be a leader, and the leader's actions will have a profound impact on everyone.

Reynard's recent burst of bravery had awakened most of the men, infecting them all with his heroic spirit.

Similarly, people are susceptible to groupthink, easily getting caught up in the heat of the moment.

As this atmosphere spread through the army, it fostered an atmosphere of defiance. The soldiers no longer felt as terrified as before—some having been unable even to stand steady—but instead, a firm and fearless resolve surged within them.

"Behind us is Hamlet, and we have nowhere to retreat!"

"Choose to be a hero, or choose to be a coward!"

For some, extreme fear even twisted into a furious rage.

"Kill, kill, kill!"

The soldiers didn't need orders to attack. The Musketeers fired freely as trained, pushing themselves to their limits, reloading and firing tirelessly.

Meanwhile, the spearmen formed ranks and raised their spears, intending to form a human wall to halt the monster's advance.

All the Cavalry Hamlet could muster readied their weapons, prepared to launch a death charge.

But Balistan retained his sanity. He knew full well that sending all these men to their deaths would be futile; it would only empower the monster further.

"Retreat! Retreat! Go back and evacuate..."

Before he could finish, a sudden loud noise drowned out the chaos.

BOOM!

Turning, Balistan saw a hole had been blasted into the monster's body.

Looking again, he realized the artillery unit had finally arrived!

"Reload! Quickly!" Barton roared, commanding the Artillerymen. His gaze swept across the battlefield, lingering for a moment on Reynard's prone form.

The town was desperately short of horses, and these Totnes-crafted cannons were all incredibly heavy. Originally positioned at the port to defend against Pirates, it had taken considerable effort to move them here.

Not to mention other logistical nightmares like ammunition supply, which was why he had been delayed.

Yet, this bizarre battlefield left him somewhat puzzled...

Why would the Commanders, who should be rational, charge into battle as if laying down their lives were second nature?

Why would those soldiers, knowing they were on a path to certain death, still hold their ground?

Barton had always harbored a regret. He was uncertain whether the failures of the past were due to his own shortcomings or those of others. If his comrades back then had been these men, would the outcome have been different?

Barton's gaze finally fixed on the monster. So why not change what's happening now?

With this thought, he immediately aimed the already loaded Twelve Pounds cannon at the monster.

"Fire!" Relying on the previous shot to find his angle, he was intimately familiar with these cannons. He grabbed the Ignition Stick and, without hesitation, lit the fuse.

The explosion echoed. An even larger cast-iron shell, propelled by gunpowder, whistled through the air and struck the monster's head dead center, bursting its twisted skull like a watermelon.

Barton's skill was perfectly demonstrated. His rise to Captain was not due to status or flattery, but purely to his prowess.

Nevertheless, the monster did not fall, its twisted Flesh continuing to squirm.

"No good, hitting the head is useless!" Dismas emerged and rushed to Barton, shouting, "Aim for the chest! Buy me time! I'm going to stuff a bomb inside it and blow it apart!"

Having said that, Dismas's gaze scoured the assorted Bombs and immediately locked onto the explosive Bombs.

To deal with such an unkillable monster, I have to use the same tactic My Lord once used: tear it apart from the inside out.

I refuse to believe it can regenerate from being blasted into pieces!

Meanwhile, Balistan had the soldiers regroup and form a new defensive line around the cannons. When he hurried over and saw what Dismas was doing, he instantly guessed his plan.

"No, let me do it. I have my Shield and armor for protection; the blast won't hurt me."

"Brother, I've observed that the monster's wounds heal quickly. I'm the only one suited for this. Besides, the army needs a leader, and that's not me."

Dismas coolly rejected the offer, but a nearby soldier promptly volunteered.

"Sir, let me do it! I'm fast."

"I'll go!"

"..."

The soldiers eagerly stepped forward, fully aware of the peril of the mission, yet they did so without hesitation.

Scanning the new recruits, who looked to be only fifteen or sixteen, Dismas let out a gruff laugh and said,

"Damn it! You brats think being a hero is that easy? It's not. Go back and train for a few more years!"

Most of these new recruits have families. If a bachelor like me dies, it hardly matters. Besides, Hamlet is integral to the Lord's grand plans; it cannot afford any losses.

Dismas gave himself no chance for regret. He grabbed a bomb, lit it, and clutching it, charged towards the monster.

As the soldiers watched the figure rushing toward the monster, they unconsciously gripped their weapons tighter. Both Instructor Reynard and Instructor Dismas had shown them what it meant to be a hero!