But Lance now rarely shows his emotions and imdiately tries to cover up the "achievents" of the ancestor from back then.
He blas everything on the Ascension Sect, this evil cult, for causing the heavy sacrifices of the nobility who led the charge, and even the city's destruction.
"You see, the cult is powerful, even the Church abandoned us here. But regardless, the Hamlet Family still stands against the world-ending cult on the front line, at least before I, the last heir, die."
Lance was barely suppressing his nausea while cleaning up the ancestor's ss. What's the problem with taking so pension money?
Anyone who dares to call him unfilial must be sent to a nursing ho!
Lawrence couldn't claim not to be shocked upon hearing this. Even with the Church's blockade, as a Baron, he clearly understood a bit about supernatural power.
But it was hard to convince him, as everything seed so grand and fantastical.
Yet, apart from this, Lawrence himself couldn't explain what led to the quick decline of the once prosperous Hamlet.
But whether it's true or false, it's enough to wipe away his past resentnt towards Hamlet.
"The past is gone, let's talk about what to do now."
Lawrence is pragmatic; if what Lance said is true, then his daughter staying here is even more dangerous.
"It's not about what I want you to do, but rather what you can do." Lance tossed the ball back.
"Back then, to deal with the Barbarian Wizard, the Earl not only relied on the Church's power but also sheltered so so-called Transcendents. If this gets exposed, the Church will hold him accountable, which will likely keep him busy for a while, preventing him from acting rashly."
Lawrence finally started discussing so core issues of Bastia, suggesting the possibility of delaying the Earl's actions for so ti.
But when Lance heard this, he shook his head slowly. Since everything was out in the open, he didn't bother with pleasantries and directly stated his requirents.
"That's not enough. If I let you go back, I want Bastia to be thrown into chaos, the more chaotic, the better."
Hearing this, Lawrence was suddenly hit with shock, more so than when he heard about Hamlet's downfall.
Count Bastia rely wanted to conquer Hamlet, but Lance wanted to bring chaos to Bastia.
He inwardly scread, [Daughter, look, I told you he was not a good person!]
"Who do you think those serfs who fought you to the death were? Now, besides us, Hamlet, who else has the power to resist the evil cult?"
Lance faced that gaze without any intention of avoiding it, scolding sternly: "Back then, our family gave everything to seal the Evil God's ritual, but you parasites were greedily devouring Hamlet's flesh, allowing the evil cult to grow. You are responsible for this outco."
Lance's words, though baseless, carried the newly spun authority of a savior, intimidating him.
Lawrence remained silent, and Lance's posture instead pushed him back, unexpectedly encountering a counter from the moral high ground.
"Let's not talk about these. Isn't creating slaughter going to strengthen the cult instead?" Lawrence, after all, was rational.
"I didn't say now." Lance grinned and supplented, "You can first work on the Earl's sheltering of Transcendents to keep him in line for a while. Once I handle things on my side, you can act."
Hearing this, Lawrence understood what Lance ant, basically wanting everything.
"You want to reclaim lost lands?" Lawrence saw a major reason for Lance's actions—to consu both sides while justifying a counterattack.
"Bastia is also mine, since ancient tis." Lance coldly threw a remark.
Not just Bastia, but those involved in carving up Hamlet years ago would co knocking after he settled the ancestor.
The greedy joy will eventually face reckoning.
Lance's words left Lawrence startled, prompting an instinctive reply.
"Do you know how the na [Bastia Never Falls] was earned? When it was built, the Barbarian Alliance Army, consisting of over a hundred tribes, couldn't take it. Instead, the Earl severely injured them, turning the tide of strength between both sides.
Rember, the Barbarians, born to fight beasts, have a battle prowess unmatched by those serfs. How many do you have in this little town? How many troops do you have to dare covet a fortress guarded by fad generals, with an abundance of soldiers?"
To Lawrence, this person seed crazier than those heretics, incomprehensible!
"Even Alvin wouldn't make such a decision!" Lawrence harshly threw a boorang to mock Lance's idea.
Didn't you just say Alvin was foolish? Now, you're even worse than Alvin.
But since when did Alvin beco a unit of asuring foolishness?
(Alvin: I have no objections)
Hearing this, Lance smiled and consoled, "I know you're anxious, but don't be."
But Lawrence only grew more anxious upon hearing Lance's advice.
This was clearly a dead-end, yet he was dragged along.
Not anxious? How wouldn't he be?
"I can't help you with this. Given the Earl's vigilance, even if allowed in during warti, there would be no opportunity to assist you from within, as the gatekeeper would be his trusted ally."
"I don't need you to be an insider~" Lance shook his head with a smile, clearly overthinking, and explained.
"What do you think I'm fighting against? This is the evil cult that once annihilated Hamlet. Do you think Bastia compares to Hamlet in grandeur? Does it have as many soldiers as Hamlet?
Ha! Bastia's elite? Rember how you ended up in my hands, I want to capture Bastia, I don't need anyone's help, it's just if I decide to."
Lance's contemptuous attitude left Lawrence deeply shocked; within this young man, he saw what it ant to exude dominion.
The last he saw it might have been with the Earl, who led three hundred knights to annihilate the Barbarian Alliance Army, quelling the Barbarian unrest.
Lance was not exaggerating.
In this age, who still bothers with traditional castles?
If you had ard a bastion with cannons and cent, maybe he'd worry, but he investigated; Bastia City was rely a traditional castle. Its walls, though thick, were re dominos before cannons.
While the six-pounder cannons at Hamlet weren't ideal for siege, the craftsn were already familiar with heavy artillery production.
Since in Totnes, they specialized in casting twelve and sixteen-pounders, it was the six and eight-pounder cannons that were new to many of them.
More importantly, with the successful casting of the first batch of cannons, craftsn were also adjusting and improving techniques, and the success rate was slowly rising.
A slight increase is still an increase.
Currently, there's only one sixteen-pounder cannon captured back then. Lance just didn't want to waste resources on it; a simple order is all it takes to deploy them.
In open battle, he wouldn't fear the charging knights. A six-pounder shot, and those lifeti-trained knights would be gone.
To siege, he'd simply deploy heavy artillery to bombard, why bother with traditional sieging?
Is he really thought of as those barbarians who don't even know how to build siege engines?
War is a lengthy affair, not impulsively started. When Lance decided to move against Bastia, all preparations would be in place.
But all this seed abstract to Lawrence, who still operated with a mindset entrenched in feudal tis, reliant on knight tactics; it was beyond his imagination.
The era is progressing, and clinging to outdated thoughts is destined for obsolescence.
Lance initially held so illusions about veteran Lawrence, but now, seeing his feudal, conservative mindset, Lance felt a bit disappointed.
He turned unfit for great responsibilities after just one defeat—his daughter was better.
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