Our Family Has Fallen-Chapter 435 - 285: Joy of Victory_2

But he held no grudge against Hamlet for what had happened; on the contrary, his love for Hamlet had only grown stronger.

The investigations launched by the security team had brought him a fair judgment, and the wrongdoers had been punished.

Sometimes, what they needed was just that simple. However, such fairness was extremely rare in the Empire, let alone across the entire continent or the world.

For ordinary people like them, who had been oppressed by the Empire, the Nobility, Gangs, and worthless bullies since childhood, the strong preying on the weak was the only truth they knew.

But Hamlet’s rules overturned their worldview. Fair rules truly existed; wrongdoers were genuinely punished, and good people were protected.

Although he had been beaten, those wrongdoers fared much worse. They had lost Lord Lance’s trust, lost their jobs, and been sent to labor farms for reformation.

The labor shortage at the town’s construction sites, caused by many workers being reassigned, even allowed him to find a permanent job. This was a welcome change from the daily manual labor he was used to; stability was what they craved most.

Now, their only truth was Lord Lance.

Hurrying back home, he saw the door was ajar. A figure leaned beside it, holding a simple oil lamp.

"Did you find out any news?" the woman asked, half-opening the door. The pea-sized flame was too dim to illuminate her face, hidden by the night, but the urgency in her voice was clear.

The convoy that evening had caused such a commotion that, after her husband finished work, she had allowed him to go to the tavern for news—a place she’d normally forbid him from "fooling around" in.

"Victory... A great victory!" the man exclaimed as he entered the house. His entire demeanor changed; he clenched his fist and swung his arm like a General on the battlefield. His voice, suddenly several notches higher, finally carried some backbone in his own home.

"Keep it down, our son is asleep."

The woman’s instinctive reprimand instantly deflated the man’s bravado. He ducked his head, glanced at the dark silhouette on the bed, and sighed in relief when he saw the child hadn’t stirred.

Then, he eagerly turned back to his wife to share the news he’d heard at the tavern.

When she heard the convoy was carrying seized supplies and that the army had won, she too felt genuinely happy.

"It’s a pity I wasn’t chosen back then," the man sighed. "Otherwise, I would have joined the army too."

In the past, the Noble Lords’ armies conscripted able-bodied men. It cost them both money and endangered their lives, so no one wanted to go.

To evade military service, people would even bribe influential figures or simply flee, preferring to become unregistered ’black household’ residents rather than soldiers.

But in Hamlet, it was the opposite: many wanted to join but couldn’t get in.

The selection criteria were stringent, and military discipline was very strict. In return, the benefits were so unbelievably good that everyone yearned to become one of Hamlet’s soldiers.

"When our son grows up, we must have him join the army."

The man quickly made up his mind. Since I couldn’t do it, I’ll place my hopes on my son. This was a common sentiment; what parent doesn’t wish for their child to achieve great things?

But the woman glanced at her husband with mild dissatisfaction. "It’s too dangerous. We only have one son. It’s good enough for us to live a stable life as an ordinary family. There’s nothing wrong with being commoners; Lord Lance will look out for us."

"Then we’ll give him a little brother, and we won’t have to worry," the man said. The heat of the night, combined with the thrilling news, stirred something within him. They drew closer under the dim oil lamp.

"Hey, what are you doing? Our son will wake up!"

"He’s fast asleep. Don’t worry."

「Hamlet, Sanatorium.」

Amanda seemed to sense something. She glanced up at the iron door, and sure enough, within two or three seconds, the sound of the lock disengaging reached her ears.

But when the cell door opened, the person releasing her wasn’t Lord Lance, but a woman.

It wasn’t the odd person named Paracelsus she had seen before, but a woman with a distinctly Barbarian style.

This woman is no less beautiful than I am, perhaps even more so, but there’s one thing I have that she can’t match, Amanda thought.

"Where is Lord Lance?" Amanda asked, sizing Grendel up for a moment, her expression somewhat peculiar.

The commotion outside last night had been intense; even she knew it signified a resounding victory.

But if that’s true, why is this woman opening the door, and not the Lord himself? Could my divination have been accurate? Did something happen to him?

Amanda’s ample bosom not only drew men’s gazes but even made Grendel’s eyes linger for a few seconds before Amanda’s question snapped her back to attention.

"Time’s up. Come out."

Grendel clearly had no intention of explaining. She tossed out the words and turned to leave.

Before Lance left, he had entrusted this matter to her because, currently, she was the only one in Hamlet capable of preventing a fight between Amanda and Tamara.

Faced with Amanda’s probing question, Grendel certainly wasn’t going to waste her breath.

Amanda, with her quick mind, naturally sensed this Barbarian Woman’s wariness towards her. However, she said nothing, simply tidied herself up a little, and walked out.

Being imprisoned for seven days was incredibly hard for me to accept, but under the threat of overwhelming force, I had no choice. What puzzles me, though, is that these seven days were genuinely just simple confinement. None of the horrible things I imagined happened. The rules that man spoke of... they were actually real. He kept his word.

As she stepped out of the sanatorium and felt the sunlight on her skin again, a smile couldn’t help but spread across Amanda’s face.

Ah, the air of freedom is truly wonderful!

But a piercing gaze from behind made her smile falter. She turned to see Tamara staring at her, still dressed in a simple prison outfit and holding her own clothes.

The saying "enemies see red when they meet" was apt. Unlike Amanda’s relaxed demeanor, Tamara, with her teeth clenched in fury, already seemed at a disadvantage.

"I don’t care what grudges you two have," Grendel interjected curtly. "Fighting and brawling are forbidden in Hamlet. Causing injury is absolutely out of the question. Unless you want to go back in there, behave yourselves. If you must fight, take it outside Hamlet’s borders to settle it."

Grendel showed no particular courtesy to either woman. After her sharp warning, she simply raised her Magic Wand and walked away.

"Why wasn’t it Lance who came? Do you know who that Barbarian Woman is, anyway?" Amanda asked, watching Grendel’s retreating figure. With only the two of them left, it was clear she was speaking to Tamara.

Tamara looked surprised at how familiarly Amanda referred to the Lord.

Lance? Is she that close to him? Since when did they become so intimate?

Sensing Tamara’s odd stare, Amanda just smirked and pressed on, "Oh? Didn’t Lance visit you? He came to my room several times and even returned my things to me early."

As she spoke, Amanda gracefully swept her hand up, her fingers brushing her cheek as she toyed with a dangling earring, her smile clearly provocative.

BAH! Shameless pair! Tamara’s eyes blazed with fury at Amanda’s provocative display; she desperately wished she could lunge forward and kill that bitch.

Unfortunately, I’m not in good condition right now. The aftereffects haven’t even subsided, and I don’t dare start a fight. She could only clench her teeth and leave to find her carriage.

Amanda watched Tamara storm off. The smugness vanished from her own face, replaced by a somber expression tinged with worry.

I was just trying to provoke Tamara into attacking first. But clearly, she hasn’t completely lost her mind.

However, Tamara’s reaction just now made it clear to me: she probably has no real connection with the Lord. I know Tamara very well. If there truly was some deeper relationship, her reaction wouldn’t have been so mild; it would have been far more explosive.

Truthfully, as much as I despise Tamara, I wouldn’t dare make a move in Hamlet. That man, Lance, is simply too strong. Until I have a clear understanding of the situation, I wouldn’t want to offend someone like him.

But Lance is very confident. If he had returned, he definitely would have been the one to open my door, just to gloat and show me my divination was wrong.

Since it wasn’t him, something unexpected must have occurred. What could it be? If I don’t get to the bottom of this, it’s going to drive me crazy.

This is the first time I’ve ever been so preoccupied with a man. Or perhaps, it’s the first time any man has caused me to lose sleep and appetite.