Our Family Has Fallen-Chapter 818 - 473: If You Do Not Abandon Me

"You say it's yours." Lance smiled and cocked the hammer, then raised the pistol toward him, "Can you make it agree?"

This was no longer a warning, but a blatant threat.

The fat man looked at the dark gun muzzle, definitely not wanting the musket to "respond" to him.

But he's threatening me with my own gun, what sort of world is this?

Damn beast—beast!!!

"You can take the musket, but give back the magic wand." The fat man's face was starting to crack, his forced calm giving way to twitching...

Taking the musket was one thing, it's a nice thing, but just an ordinary weapon, whereas the magic wand must be retrieved.

"What do you mean give it to me? This was originally mine." Lance didn't care about his attitude at all, not mentioning the magic wand.

Sheep are meant to be fleeced, the two were adversaries to begin with; sparing his life was already generous of Lance.

"Who are you?" The fat man swept his gaze around, seeming to grasp something, "Are you all Hamlet's bandit robbers?"

"Good wine for friends, shotguns for enemies." Lance laughed.

In front of him, any attempt to play the moral card was laughable; he had no morals.

Lance's indifferent attitude made the fat man collapse entirely, realizing he might not get his belongings back, his Spiritual Essence began to stir, as if brewing something big.

On the surface, however, nothing seemed wrong, everything was well concealed.

But in Lance's eyes, he looked like he'd drunk radioactive water, his whole body aglow, especially conspicuous in the darkness.

The serious pretense on his face made it difficult for Lance to keep a straight face.

"If you have the guts, kill me. Everyone will accompany me to the grave, including you."

Compared to Lance's brilliant smile, the fat man froze, his gaze inadvertently shifted to those restless cavalry, he understood what it meant.

Now he was stuck, unwilling to just give up the magic wand, but if he really fought...

Did he dare?

Watching from hiding, Laura seemed quite pleased under her hood.

This fat guy hadn't shown her a kind face the whole trip, his disdain and disgust blatant.

They were both the Earl's lackeys, why look down on her?

Seeing him suffer now, Laura was naturally happy.

Joy!

"My Lord!" Dismas dragged over the half-dead Heretic Priest and tossed him to the ground, "What should we do with him?"

Spellcasters were rare, even within the Ascension Sect that could modify flesh, clearly someone of note, so they waited for the Lord's decision.

Lance glanced at him, noting how blood-soaked his lower half was, throat still tangled with flesh.

Without hesitation, he raised his hand and shot, the gunfire roared and the Heretic Priest's head exploded.

Only then did Lance's voice come through.

"I don't like bloodiness~"

The sudden shot surprised even Dismas, blood splattering onto him.

But the fat man was even more panicked, his body jolted and his fat quivered at the sound of gunfire.

Not to mention Lance's words were directed at him, with a smile as demonic as ever.

You say you don't like bloodiness?

The tense scene was instantly reignited by this shot, as Reynard, maintaining order, approached on horseback, longsword still unsheathed.

"Let's talk it out, I came for friendship." The fat man recognized the power before him.

This wasn't Bastia, the Earl held no sway here.

Ransom still in hand, Lance wasn't about to kill him, instead smiling and tossing the pistol to Dismas.

"This gun is nice, it's yours."

Dismas caught it, feeling it over, it truly was a worthy item.

"Return!"

At Lance's order, the caravan was taken over, the group started leaving in an orderly fashion.

The guards weren't tied up, instead mixed in with the refugees as the cavalry drove them forward.

They'd hoped to use the refugees to crash Hamlet and show off to the Earl.

Unexpectedly, they exposed themselves instead.

Lance sat on horseback without moving, watching them leave.

Why had they appeared here so conveniently?

It wasn't a coincidence; their route was closely monitored.

Originally, Lance wanted a military exercise, but worried scouts couldn't handle the Eagle Flock, so he came to oversee.

He couldn't fathom why these people hadn't released the Eagle Flock, possibly mistaking them for just an ordinary merchant caravan.

But Lance remained vigilant, rather than relaxing.

What kind of place was this? Such a large chunk of fat passing by, it would be unworthy of the "Evil God" if the ancestors didn't come to feast.

He speculated the ancestors wouldn't watch all this labor potential fall to Hamlet without disrupting.

Sure enough, when he gathered the cavalry, they encountered the scene just now.

No words needed, straight to the charge!

But the clash just now caused hundreds of casualties; only when those bodies were carelessly arranged did one feel human fragility.

Lance was silent, merely offering their bodies as sacrifices, to prevent further empowering the ancestors, sparking a new wave of the Corrupting Wind.

Only after the last body was devoured by the Void did Lance leisurely turn back.

This one action seemed to startle something as a flapping noise began to rise.