Our Family Has Fallen-Chapter 439 - 287: Restarting the Research on the Witch’s Legacy_2
Fortunately, he had withstood it. Now that he was on guard, it wouldn’t be so easy to fall for it next time.
"PHEW." Lance let out a long breath. He admitted to himself that the successful actions against the Ascension Sect had caused him to lower his guard against those fiends.
Indeed, as long as the Old Ancestor lived, he couldn’t afford to slack off for a single moment.
"Wang Cai!" Lance called. Wang Cai came trotting in eagerly, but then it suddenly seemed to realize something. Its steps grew hesitant, its eyes looked up at its master, and it kept glancing back, displaying strong unease.
"Come here," Lance beckoned, urging it repeatedly.
Wang Cai could only shuffle forward slowly, head down but eyes warily on Lance, its every movement cautious.
Lance, however, was in no mood to play. His hand shot out like a pouncing tiger, grabbing Wang Cai by the scruff of its neck and dragging it deeper into the house.
Startled, Wang Cai struggled frantically, letting out pitiful, ghastly yelps.
"Quiet! It’s just a bath. You’re so spineless," Lance said, ignoring its struggles and holding it down. "I could smell your stench earlier. You’re not coming into my room until you’re clean."
Lance gave its head a light smack, which finally made it settle down a little. He then poured water over Wang Cai.
The water ran blood-red, like fresh blood. Much of it was already caked and matted in its fur, making it difficult to wash away. 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚
Lance simply dunked it into a bucket to soak, leaving only its two front paws clinging to the edge, its large wolfish head resting on them. In this hot weather, the cool water provided some comfort.
Lance washed up as well. There had been no facilities to do so outside, so his first priority upon returning was to cleanse himself of the grime.
This water had to be carried from the well, a task requiring considerable manual labor. Filling such a large bucket meant numerous trips back and forth; a single person might spend half a day on this task alone.
Only because he was the Lord could he use water so extravagantly. How could an ordinary family afford to bathe otherwise?
This was the result of low productivity. Every aspect of production and life was greatly restricted. Labor was cheap, yet it was difficult to efficiently transform it into material goods.
Only after living in this world did Lance truly understand how convenient his previous modern life had been, and how much effort countless people had expended for the simple comforts he had once enjoyed...
News of the Lord’s return spread. After Lance finished washing, he began to meet with his subordinates to address various town affairs, including events that had transpired during his two-day absence.
The town’s operations were stable, with no issues arising. The seized supplies had been sorted and inventoried, ready to be converted into production materials for Hamlet’s development.
However, the convoy of wagons had caused some minor problems. Reynard, representing the army, wanted to requisition the horses to strengthen the Cavalry.
Meanwhile, Tiffany, who oversaw administration, hoped to keep the wagons and modify them for transporting materials. They were currently facing a shortage of transport capacity, which was severely slowing construction progress.
Lance felt quite helpless regarding this issue. Before the invention of automobiles, horses were precious and irreplaceable.
Allocating them to the Cavalry would enhance the troops’ mobility and responsiveness.
Conversely, utilizing these wagons would strengthen transport capacity and speed up town construction, as horses were essential for moving materials and supplies.
"Alright, I have other plans for this batch of wagons. I’ll find a way to resolve your issues," Lance declared. He didn’t assign the wagons to either of them. It was a difficult situation. Ultimately, it all came down to poverty, he thought. The town’s resources were too meager; whatever they did, it felt like they were stretching every copper coin.
Since the Lord had spoken, they naturally dropped their dispute. Such matters were for their Lord to ponder.
After the others had dispersed, only Grendel remained.
"Please, sit. You’ve worked hard these past few days."
Before leaving, Lance had entrusted some matters to her. He had chosen her out of necessity; aside from himself, only Grendel possessed any Supernatural Power in town.
Besides, Tiffany’s temperament wasn’t suited for governance; leaving matters to her previously had nearly caused problems. Therefore, Lance needed to find someone capable and resourceful enough to keep Hamlet stable in his absence.
This was also a test of Grendel’s abilities. Lance needed someone to help him shoulder the increasingly heavy burden of administrative affairs.
She hadn’t spoken much during the recent meeting, but her handling of various matters clearly showed her administrative skills were considerable—certainly better than his, a relative amateur.
That made sense. She had been groomed as a tribal administrator and, having been in Hamlet for some time, was familiar with its situation. It was perfectly normal for her to exhibit strong capabilities once given the authority.
After discussing the administrative tasks she had handled, the conversation gradually shifted to the assignments he had originally given her.
"The herbs from the Witch’s Medicine Field have been successfully transplanted, with a survival rate of about eighty percent. As for formulas for strengthening the body, I have quite a few, but some of the more potent ones require extremely expensive resources to compound.
As for those incense formulas used by the Ascension Sect that you gave me, I’ve also deciphered them. These things are indeed connected to our tribe; they were likely developed by the Witch..."
Lance listened, quite surprised. Grendel wasn’t just administratively capable; she was also highly efficient. She had completed nearly all the tasks he had assigned her.
He’d struck gold!
"This is the Gangrenous Fungi," Lance said, "a type of virus the Witch cultivated specifically to counter the Ascension Sect’s Flesh Rite. I need you to help me develop a version with more stable and controllable effects..."
Lance produced a transparent glass vial sealed with pale yellow powder and brought out some documents he had organized. All those sleepless nights had been for this moment.
"These are the documents left by the Witch. They might be helpful for your research."
Grendel hadn’t expected the Lord to keep her behind for this. Her gaze on the documents was hesitant.
Asking her to take over the Witch’s research... She was somewhat puzzled by Lance’s intentions.
"Er... is there a problem?"
"I am currently researching how to improve crop yields and disease resistance," Grendel said, stating the reason for her hesitation.
Lance wasn’t a fool. He knew better than anyone that improving crop varieties required large-scale experiments and selection processes—not something an individual could achieve alone. What he had mentioned before was merely to describe future possibilities. So, her words, no matter how he looked at them, sounded more like an excuse.
"On our recent trip deep into the wilderness, we discovered..." Lance briefly explained the situation, also revealing why he was suddenly taking this course of action.
"I can sense they’re plotting something. There must be secrets hidden in that ancient sewer they guard so heavily. We must secure any power we can; otherwise, our chances of winning this war are slim."
Only then did he look at Grendel, his expression revealing a deep sense of helplessness.
"I’ve said it before: there should be no misunderstandings between us. Anything on your mind should be spoken openly, even if it’s dissatisfaction with me. I need to know where I’m falling short so I can improve."
No matter how powerful external enemies were, he had never feared them. But disunity among his own people—that was what truly disheartened him.
Lance adhered to the principle: "If you trust someone, employ them; if you doubt someone, don’t." He especially gave his utmost trust to those he had acknowledged.
Seeing Lance’s dejected expression, Grendel was momentarily at a loss. She inexplicably felt as if she had let him down in some way, a sense of guilt welling up inside her.
What had worried Grendel earlier was that Lance’s actions made his attitude unclear to her.
Not long ago, he had empowered her with administrative tasks. But upon his return, he seemed to reclaim that authority by making unilateral decisions, while simultaneously assigning her this thorny new task. This situation made her feel a sense of crisis.
She didn’t know if this was another test, which was why she had hesitated.
