Our Family Has Fallen

As expected, a single sentence from Lance struck Paracelsus's sensitive spot.

Right, if I don't have to care for patients, I'll have time for my research, won't I? she thought.

"This time, I've acquired many interesting things: Succubus Mucus, Witch's Brew, and even the witch's manuscripts..." Lance said, listing the items as if reading from a menu. His words immediately captured her attention.

With these endless research topics, she simply couldn't bear to leave.

Lance sensed her emotions calming and finally heaved a sigh of relief.

I want Grendel, and I want Paracelsus. Anything that falls into my hands will never be let go, he resolved.

Inspired by Lance, Paracelsus realized she needed to rush back to the camp to record each patient's condition. If her methods didn't work, it would be a huge embarrassment for both her and Lance.

Yes, Lance is included in that, Paracelsus thought. His choice of the witch implied he didn't trust his own abilities. Although I'm stumped by this peculiar disease, it's not certain the witch can cure it either...

Lance also departed. News of his return had likely already spread throughout the town, and he needed to make an appearance.

In the central square, Lance stood on a high platform. At his feet lay something wrapped in tattered cloth. Below, nearly 2,000 townspeople had gathered.

Aside from those on the few outlying farms, everyone who could come had arrived, desperate to gain confidence from their Lord.

"Silence!" Lance raised his hand, and the restless crowd instantly quieted, showcasing his unparalleled prestige.

"We have just endured bandit raids followed by natural disasters, finally managing to settle here in Hamlet. I have brought you stable work and a safe environment. But the Cannibal Witch in the wilderness, envious of our achievements, deliberately drove wild beasts to attack us and spread a plague, attempting to shatter our peace. For this, we have paid dearly. Many soldiers died in battle, vast swathes of land were tainted, farms were burned, and many more soldiers are now tormented by illness."

Lance knew the people below were uneducated; they wouldn't understand complicated words. Only the simplest language would reach them.

As expected, the mention of this great cost dampened everyone's spirits. The families of the casualties shed tears, and this sorrow spread, shrouding the entire square in a heavy atmosphere.

But this was not what Lance wanted.

"But!" he roared.

His loud shout startled the crowd, making them involuntarily look up at the figure on the platform.

"In the face of the witch's attacks, the townspeople mobilized, and our entire militia fought bravely! We finally stopped those enemies at the labor farms, successfully defending Hamlet from harm! I led a team deep into the wilderness and eventually found the Cannibal Witch hiding behind it all. After a fierce battle..."

Lance then abruptly ripped away the tattered cloth, revealing the witch's ugly, ferocious head. He reached out, grabbed her hair, and lifted the head high.

"The Cannibal Witch who attacked Hamlet and spread the plague has been slain by me! All her minions have also been killed! The threat from the wilderness has been eradicated!"

The news that their Lord had killed the witch electrified the crowd.

At his words, the people below erupted into cheers, shouting and venting the pressure that had built up over the past few days.

But the good news didn't stop there.

"The cure for the plague has been found! Those afflicted will soon recover!"

"All fallen reservists will be treated with the honors of formal soldiers, receiving full compensation and benefits!"

Lance continued, making several announcements about matters of utmost concern to them. Then, he began to distribute rewards liberally: cash for all who actively answered the militia's call, for scouts who spotted the enemy, and commendations with monetary rewards for exceptional fighters.

Through these actions, he swiftly turned the negative mood around. The townspeople even erupted with fervent enthusiasm.

Of course, all this was backed by substantial funds. Without money, his promises would have been mere empty talk.

After the speech concluded, Hamlet came back to life. The announcements stimulated all the townsfolk. Given the right benefits, people can unleash powerful forces from within themselves, Lance mused.

But he had no intention of stopping yet. Having entered the wilderness twice in succession, a pile of matters had accumulated, waiting for his attention.

First, however, another matter needed addressing: tending to the affairs of the soldiers who had died in battle.

Lance personally visited the bereaved families to offer his condolences. He inquired whether compensation had been received, if the promised policies were being implemented, and if the families faced any other difficulties.

In truth, most relatives of the deceased had already accepted their loss. They were citizens of the Empire, after all, but they had never received such treatment. Previously, even notification of death after conscription wasn't guaranteed, let alone these kinds of benefits.

Never before!

Death was common in this world, so much so that many had grown numb to it.

But now, their Lord himself had come to visit them. This level of consideration made them feel their family members' sacrifices had been worthwhile.

"You are the families of heroes," Lance told them. "Your loved ones sacrificed their lives for Hamlet. If you suffer any injustice or encounter any problems, bring this certificate to me, and I will ensure justice is done."

Lance then produced a piece of parchment. On it, he wrote the soldier's basic information, the battles they had participated in, and the date of their sacrifice.

The document bore Lance's signature and a bright red seal pressed with his Family Crest Ring.

The relatives accepted it with both hands; some things needed no words.

As he visited each family, their reactions varied, but underlying them all was grief—after all, this could hardly be good news for them.

Facing the bereaved, even Lance felt immense pressure. It was not an enviable task, but it was one he had to perform.

He needed to alleviate their distress, lest their sorrow festered into larger problems. A chain reaction of discontent could be disastrous. Hamlet was still too fragile; even a slight gust of wind could destroy it.

After handling these sensitive matters, Lance returned to the training camp to address the soldiers.

He commended those who had excelled in battle, calculated their military merits, distributed monetary rewards, and promoted the deserving.

For people of this era, there was no better psychological balm.

"The assessment to become regular soldiers will start in a few days," Lance announced. "I only want the best, because our enemies are extremely powerful. Of course, I know some of you are weary of military life. You can choose to leave; I respect your decision."

This statement ignited their determination. Most resolved to focus on their training, striving to become true soldiers.

However, Lance noticed that some soldiers still hadn't emerged from the shadow of their recent traumatic experiences.

After the assembly, these individuals approached Lance. They chose to leave, thereby forgoing their benefits and relinquishing their responsibilities.

"Alright," Lance said. "No matter what, you faced monsters and killed them. You've proven your courage, and I respect your choice."

Other lords controlled their armies through violence; deserters typically faced only death. Yet, their Lord was simply letting them go.

This unexpected leniency, paradoxically, evoked feelings of guilt, making them doubt the correctness of their decision.

"Don't feel pressured," Lance continued, attempting to console them and alleviate their unease. "There are other ways to contribute your strength to Hamlet. As long as you abide by the law, you are a part of this town."

Through conversation, Lance understood that these men's spirits had been crushed in their two battles against the monsters. Once their resolve was broken, they were no longer suited for military life.

To put it bluntly, a unit that dared to charge monsters could not tolerate cowards. These men were no longer fit to remain in the ranks.

However, this situation served as a reminder: it was essential to establish psychological support for the soldiers.

This would help prevent more soldiers from succumbing to similar issues. It was also time to implement psychological counseling programs.

Since his return, Lance had worked tirelessly: calming the populace, reforming the army, and continuously handling various town affairs.

He was exhausted.