Lance knew they needed to vent the fear in their hearts, and those who abandoned their duties were the best outlet for it.
But he could not let the power of judgnt fall into their hands. Otherwise, his authority would be threatened from the very start. Only he was qualified to initiate a trial against a person, to convict.
This was to ensure his authority remained intact while also preventing the situation from escalating.
Because these people simply wanted to vent their fear; in their frenzy, they lacked discernnt and could easily harm other innocent Guards.
A mad world must be led by reason to survive.
"Did you flee?" Lance raised his hand, pointing at a Guard.
The one he pointed to was stunned for a mont but quickly shook his head in denial.
"I did not flee."
"Good. Do you dare to stand up and say it out loud?"
Upon hearing this, the man, observing the surrounding situation and despite so hesitation, stood up.
"I did not flee! I killed two enemies back there!"
"Did any of you see him back down?" Lance turned to look at the crowd. No one ca forward to accuse him.
It seed that after a brief mont of calm, they had all returned to reason.
"Good!" Lance suddenly shouted, raising his hand towards the man. "You are restored to the status of a freeman, with a reward of ten copper coins for killing two enemies."
The man was stunned upon hearing this.
"Co and receive your reward." Lance called the man over and took out the money in front of everyone.
Although his initial dealings involved Gold Coins, the currency most ordinary people encountered was the copper coin. These ten coins were a considerable sum for a refugee.
With ten real copper coins cradled in his hands, the man’s face imdiately blossod with a smile, and any previous grievances disappeared.
Lance then turned his gaze towards the Guards who had been sowhat restless; most of them had cald down.
There were definitely those among the Guards who had done real work. Otherwise, the camp would not have remained secure. They had just fought valiantly against the enemy, only to be suddenly called here and faced with various accusations and curses. Anyone would feel resentful in such a situation.
Now, with this move, Lance had instantly dissolved the resistance in the minds of most of the Guards.
They had not fled, so what was there to fear?
"Rest assured," Lance declared, "I will not mistreat any man who has bravely fought, nor will I let go of any coward who abandoned his duties!"
Lance then lifted his hand and pointed.
"Did you flee?"
The man he pointed at also quickly stood up. "I did not flee!"
"Good! A reward!"
Lance directly picked out about ten people, and then his gaze finally settled on one of them.
"How about you?"
The man, elated, shouted, "I killed ten!"
"You even lost your weapon! Who do you think you’re fooling?" Lance didn’t even bother to waste words, simply waving his hand. "Take him."
His selections were not random. He had deliberately pressured the crowd earlier, observing their every reaction. The first batch he picked consisted of those who had endured his stress test—the ones he was most certain about.
He didn’t need to act himself. The Guards who had just received their money imdiately apprehended the man and brought him forward.
"Normally, dereliction of duty would at most result in being expelled from the camp. But now you’ve falsely reported military intelligence, and even I can’t save you." Lance leaned forward slightly, sizing up the man, then with a disappointed shake of his head said, "Drag him out and execute him. His family is to be banished from the camp, never to be employed again."
"My Lord! I was wrong, please no!"
By this ti, begging was futile. He needed to make an example of this man to deter the others. The man had to die, no matter what.
If possible, he even wanted to kill the man’s entire family to prevent future troubles.
But such actions would tarnish his image. Unrestrained violence and brute force only inspired fear and bred resistance.
The man was executed, and his family was exiled. Even though they cried and begged pitifully, Lance paid them no mind, nor did anyone else. The populace cursed and blad them, actively driving them out until, in the end, the family had no choice but to leave the camp.
Their fate, in sharp contrast to that of the families of the casualties, made everyone aware that everything they possessed ca from the Lord, causing them to unconsciously grow more reliant on the man.
Tiffany stood watching Lance, who was still doling out rewards and punishing wrongdoers. She had followed him all this way, witnessing how he quickly united a group of panicked refugees through his thods.
If it were her, she probably wouldn’t have been able to accomplish anything, not even identify the cowards.
Now she understood why the rchant caravan she had managed so poorly had fallen under his control in less than a day.
"Cowards!"
"Get lost!"
"..."
Another man guilty of dereliction of duty was expelled from the camp with his wife and children.
Under Lance’s deft guidance, the people’s anger was released. The group, which had initially been a haphazard collection of individuals, beca a cohesive unit, their previously scattered morale gradually stabilizing.
Everyone despised those who fled from the battle, and watching them being stripped of everything and leaving in disgrace brought a strange sense of satisfaction.
But Boudica alone seed out of sorts. She, who had been so energized earlier and had even dared to charge at hundreds of refugees, now looked upon those expelled from the camp with a despondent air.
Lance, however, paid her no attention, his focus already on the last Guard.
"You claim to have killed ten enemies."
"Yes, My Lord." The man replied with composure, standing tall, unfazed by the stares of the others.
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