Our Family Has Fallen-Chapter 45: The Continuation of Hatred_1

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Chapter 45: Chapter 45: The Continuation of Hatred_1

"My Lord," Vick greeted Lance respectfully, stepping forward immediately upon seeing him.

The woman, jolted by her son’s reaction, realized her lapse and quickly stood up. What was I doing? she thought, flustered. How could I make My Lord wait for my son!

Meanwhile, the seven- or eight-year-old child poked his head out curiously from behind his older brother to look at Lance.

Lance looked at them. This was their home, yet they seemed so restrained. In this world, class divisions are truly insurmountable, he thought.

"Vick, come out for a walk with me." Lance had no intention of disrupting their normal life, so he stood up and walked out of the house.

Vick hurriedly followed, keeping pace without a word.

"Have you been keeping up with training lately?"

"Yes, I have." Vick didn’t know why the Lord was asking these things, but he answered honestly.

After some routine questions, Lance finally revealed why he had sought out Vick. "To test the new recruits’ discipline and problem-solving abilities, I plan to set up an assessment. The day after tomorrow, I will withdraw the two instructors, and I will also hide to observe all of you. I need you to help me observe and record those who don’t train properly, don’t carry out their patrol duties, or don’t follow the rules. Report your findings to me when I return." As he spoke, Lance stopped, turned back with a slight smile, and gently patted Vick’s shoulder.

"Vick, you’re different from the other recruits. You’re the smartest in the entire training camp. I have high expectations for you; don’t disappoint me."

"I guarantee I’ll complete the mission!" Vick accepted without much hesitation, feeling pleased that My Lord had entrusted him with such an important task.

"Good." Lance reached into his pocket, pulled out a silver coin, and pressed it into Vick’s hand. "Go buy some meat for your family."

Vick stared at the silver coin in his hand, bewildered. He’d never even seen a silver coin before, let alone held one!

"Go on back now, or your mother will worry."

Only then did Vick react, clutching the silver coin tightly, his face beaming with joy. "Thank you, My Lord!"

"Remember, the details of this assessment are confidential, understand?"

"Yes!"

Lance watched the boy happily run home. He’s only fifteen or sixteen, Lance mused. At that age, I was still carefree in school.

But he quickly snapped back to reality and continued with his prior arrangements, seeking out several other promising recruits and repeating similar words to them.

「...」

"George, you’re different from the other recruits. You’re the most diligent in the entire training camp. I have high expectations for you; don’t disappoint me."

「...」

"Andrew, you’re different from the other recruits. You have the best performance in the entire training camp. I have high expectations for you; don’t disappoint me."

「...」

Vick was quick-witted and clever, always able to devise solutions to problems. George was stubbornly principled and strong-willed, incapable of deceit or shirking his duties. Andrew was the strongest among all the recruits and had the best training results; he could command the obedience of most of them. The interplay between these three would keep the situation stable while Lance and the instructors were away.

This was the benefit of Lance training alongside the recruits: he had a general understanding of each one’s personality. This allowed him to manage the situation in town even in his absence, simply by controlling these few key individuals.

He had to ensure the training camp continued to operate after he left and that order was maintained in the town.

Ultimately, it’s a lack of manpower, Lance thought. Even slightly larger operations are a struggle, like constantly applying patches.

Once the bandits are dealt with, I’ll have to accelerate talent development.

Lance continued his journey through the night, soon arriving at a brightly lit area. Even from a distance, the clang of metal on metal could be heard. Looking up, he saw a long chimney still spewing smoke.

This was the blacksmith’s shop. Lance had anticipated that the demand for tools would surge once the construction project began. The weapons for the training camp recruits, and their maintenance, were another pressing issue.

So, he had approached the blacksmith, negotiated terms, and secured him a loan. In essence, Lance had lent him money to repair the blacksmith shop.

Then came the amusing part: Lance discovered he actually owned the land the shop stood on. The blacksmith had previously sold it to the former town mayor.

Since loans were already being processed, Lance didn’t mind extending a bit more. He then rented the land back to the blacksmith and even included the shop’s repair in the first phase of the construction project, prioritizing it.

In reality, nothing fundamental had changed. The blacksmith was still spending his own money (via the loan) to repair his shop. Lance had simply, and cleverly, maneuvered the situation so the blacksmith was now indebted to him for a loan that seemingly materialized out of thin air—a loan for which the blacksmith also had to be extremely grateful.

The collapsed sections of the building had been roughly repaired, though the backyard walls were not yet rebuilt. The workbench in front of the forge was merely shielded by a tarpaulin stretched to provide shelter from wind and rain. Fortunately, this setup at least no longer hindered forging activities.

"Business seems good." Lance walked directly through a gap in the partially repaired backyard wall. The furnace inside burned vigorously, illuminating the space well enough that no Candles were needed.

Inside, the blacksmith and his apprentice were toiling at the anvil, their powerful movements silhouetted by the roaring forge. It was clear that recent setbacks hadn’t extinguished the blacksmith’s hope.

"My Lord! What brings you here?" The blacksmith immediately stopped his work and came over to greet Lance, his soot-stained face breaking into a smile.

"Is my order ready?"

"It’s just finished! I was planning to deliver it to you tomorrow, My Lord. We couldn’t possibly have you come all the way here to pick it up," the blacksmith said, gesturing to his apprentice, who was wielding a small hammer.

"Carl, quickly, go get My Lord’s things."

The young apprentice, Carl, glanced at Lance, then set down his hammer and hurried inside as commanded.

Lance surveyed the workshop, habitually looking for a way to start a conversation. "Have you run into any trouble recently?"

"Thanks to you, My Lord, business at the shop is very good. It’s just that we’re running low on coal and Iron Ingots."

"I’ll find a way to sort those out. Don’t worry." freewebnσvel.cѳm

Because Lance had provided the loan on favorable terms and there were plenty of orders, the blacksmith didn’t feel excessive pressure. Instead, he was highly motivated, working overtime until this very moment. It was, however, tough on his apprentice, Carl.

Carl was an orphan whose parents had been killed by bandits. Lance’s revitalization plan for the town included helping such orphans by placing them as apprentices with various skilled craftsmen.

This apprenticeship was also one of the conditions Lance had set for the blacksmith’s loan: he had to train a new blacksmith.

However, blacksmithing is grueling work, and not many orphans were willing to choose it. Carl had been the sole exception.

"I want to forge weapons for My Lord, weapons that will kill the bandits and avenge my parents!"

At the time, Carl had wanted to enlist in the army but was too young. So, he chose to become a blacksmith’s apprentice instead. Lance still vividly remembered the words Carl had spoken that day.

This had made Lance realize the profound hatred between the townspeople and the bandits. To truly win their hearts, he absolutely had to eradicate the bandits!

Soon, the young apprentice returned, carrying a box. Inside were a close-fitting breastplate and a helmet.

The breastplate was different from the usual curved designs. It consisted of two thick iron plates, one for the front and one for the back, designed to be worn underneath other garments. Its main purpose was to protect vital organs, which were particularly vulnerable.

He’d like to wear Heavy Armor, Lance thought, but I’m just not capable of handling it right now.

As for the helmet... who would go into battle without one?

"Also, get me thirty Crossbow Arrows. Put them on my account."

Crossbow Arrows had an advantage over muskets: they were silent. This made them suitable for stealth and assassination, fitting their current operation perfectly. It never hurt to have extras.

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