Our Family Has Fallen-Chapter 39: The Deserter_1

"I don’t think those people were bandits," Balistan furrowed his brow, seemingly recalling the incident. "I think they might have been an army."

"What! How is that possible?"

Dismas appeared very surprised, but Lance nodded in agreement with this statement.

"I think so too."

"An army wouldn’t just show up here and attack civilians, would they?"

Even Reynard found this idea somewhat problematic until Lance produced two items.

"Take a look at this."

One was a crossbow, and the other was the long-barreled flintlock gun once held by David.

Dismas, who knew a bit about these things, took a closer look and then understood.

"These are all standard weapons of the Empire’s army, though the markings have been rubbed off."

"This must be the spoils that David collected from killing the bandits. That means those people were actually soldiers. But why would the army be mingling with bandits?"

"Deserters."

Balistan uttered a term that suddenly made everything make sense.

Although the soldiers in this world were also professional, their treatment was far from good, not even as good as what Lance offered to the new recruits. But survival in this world was too difficult. Many joined just for a bite to eat, yet their treatment wasn’t even as good as what Lance provided. Even their meager pay might not reach their hands, with arrears being a common occurrence, on top of being exploited and abused by their officers.

Such an army could fight when the wind was at their backs, but they could easily collapse in adversity. After deserting, they would either be wanted by the authorities, or the authorities would declare them all killed in action and erase their identities. This allowed those above to consume their pensions.

The upper echelons drinking soldiers’ blood was routine, a practice unchanged even in modern times, let alone in such an ignorant era.

So these deserters, stripped of their identities, could only become bandits and plague the land. They continued until their actions drew the attention of those above—usually when they affected the interests of those powerful people. Then, a regular army would be dispatched to exterminate them.

Mobilizing the army might give rise to new deserters.

It was an infinite cycle. All this happened in remote areas, so those living in the big cities were completely unaware of these events. The people at the top didn’t pay attention to these—ants.

However, it was clear that now the Empire’s ’ants’ were like fierce, hungry wolves before this little town. They had just recently torn off a large piece of flesh, and Hamlet could not withstand another plunder.

After a moment of silence, Lance finally spoke.

"An army equipped with muskets and cannons, of unknown size, is lurking nearby and could attack the town at any time. If this is really the case, I don’t think a few of us, together with the untrained militia, would be able to do much. We wouldn’t stand a chance against a single bomb."

As this assessment was laid out, everyone felt the pressure.

This assessment directly presented a very real problem. Although each of them was battle-hardened, and individually, they were considered the elite among ordinary people. The battles they had encountered before involved either debauched and down-and-out mercenaries or riffraff and commoners. They had yet to meet any real tough opponents, which was why their victories had seemed so effortless. However, facing an army with guns and cannons ready for a large-scale attack was a different matter. Balistan’s previous outcome had already shown that individual prowess was indeed limited.

Dismas, who had originally been burning with ambition to fight the heretics, also fell into a slump. He was well aware that what Lance had said was very realistic.

HAHAHA.

Yet, amidst this somber atmosphere, Lance suddenly burst into laughter, which puzzled the rest of them.

Why was the Lord laughing?

Feeling their inquisitive gazes, Lance explained unhurriedly.

"You’ve actually overlooked a very important factor: they are deserters, not a true army. That is to say, after their last attack on Hamlet, they can’t receive any logistical support, yet their consumption is real. How much ammunition can a deserter possibly carry?"

Lance’s words opened up new avenues of thought for them; if there were no cannons, they just needed to hold their position. Even the mightiest bandits would have a hard time breaking through.

"So, our main task now is to train our troops, using the bandits as a target to start preparations. When they come again, we’ll teach these scoundrels a lesson. I, Lance, am not that good-for-nothing mayor!"

Having set the tone, Lance began delegating tasks.

Given Balistan’s veteran status and familiarity with military drills, he was assigned basic training and formations. Reynard, with his superior swordsmanship, took charge of teaching the recruits hand-to-hand combat.

Dismas was waiting for Lance to give him a task, but the Lord’s arrangements all focused on the others, meticulously planned down to the last detail. He didn’t even have a simple task like patrolling, as if he had been personally disconnected from the team. Dismas couldn’t help but fall into a kind of self-reproaching mood.

Was it my cowardly display when facing the corruption, or that I couldn’t control myself and visited prostitutes, that displeased My Lord...?

These conflicted emotions didn’t subside with time; on the contrary, they intensified.

"Dismas, I have a mission for you."

Finally! It’s my turn!

Dismas felt as though the Lord had plucked him out of Hell with one hand. In a flash, he was full of zeal, eager to prove himself to the Lord with action.

"My Lord, just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it."

Lance looked at his excited manner with some surprise but paid it little mind and continued discussing tactical deployment.

"Training troops requires time and a lot of resources, and what we lack most right now is time. Nobody knows when those bandits will attack. At the same time, we know too little about the bandits. We are unaware of their equipment or their exact numbers. To change this situation, we must ascertain the bandits’ stronghold, their movements, and the terrain of the wilderness."

As he spoke, Lance took on a very serious expression.

"This information will be of great use in our eradication of the bandits. However, to execute this plan, we need someone to infiltrate the area around the old roads and scout out the situation. This is a very difficult task, Dismas, and I hope you will undertake it."

"Leave it to me; I guarantee I’ll complete the mission," Dismas instantly agreed, without resenting the Lord for giving him this dangerous task. On the contrary, he believed it was precisely because the Lord trusted his ability. This gave him the opportunity to prove himself, something he had been waiting for all this time.

That disgrace must be washed away with blood.

Lance, however, hadn’t thought so deeply about it; it was simply because Dismas was more familiar with the bandits and the wilderness, whereas he still needed the old soldier and Reynard to train the troops.

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