The piercing scream seed to contain countless sufferings, all encapsulated in that single cry.
"It’s okay now, I’m here."
Lance said as he bent down to return the child to its mother’s arms, then raised his hand and gently patted the shoulder of the adolescent.
"Fear cannot defeat the strong people of Hamlet. Protect your mother and brother and leave this place."
"Yes!" a slightly frantic voice answered, feeling blessed by the Lord, and the fear instantly vanished.
The frail body no longer trembled, as if a sudden surge of strength steadied him. He quickly helped his mother leave the place.
But things were far from over; they were only just beginning.
"So..." Lance slowly turned and cast his gaze upon those who had fallen into dead silence, his expression suddenly changing, his calm tone transforming into a fierce roar, "Who can tell what exactly happened!"
Everything happened too quickly and too shockingly, so much so that most people did not imdiately react.
Or perhaps they were intimidated by the cry of "My Lord," and it wasn’t until Lance’s roar that they finally snapped out of it.
They looked at the man in armor covered with battle scars, stained by blood and dirt.
Even if his face was still sared with blood stains, no one could possibly forget the face beneath the half-corroded helt symbolizing who he was, nor could they ignore his fury.
Such attire against a backdrop of fierce flas made him appear like a demon crawling out of Hell, terrifying enough to make one’s soul tremble.
They might have t the amiable lord as refreshing as a gentle spring breeze, but had forgotten the terrifying pressure one would face standing against him.
The fanatical believers who were just shouting about purifying Hamlet and burning heretics quickly cooled their blood with just one question from Lance; so less brave were trembling in fear, and so even collapsed to the ground, screaming bizarrely.
"It wasn’t !"
"It’s none of my business!"
"They did it..."
The ndicant Monk hiding behind this scene was sowhat alard, secretly thinking to himself:
Hiss~ This boy is terrifyingly formidable, he must not be allowed to remain!
This kind of struggle never stops once it starts, the only end is life or death.
One must know that Lance doesn’t show spiritual fluctuations, no matter how strong your inspiration is, you can’t see through his strength, especially now that he looks so "embarrassed," as if a gentle push would topple him.
However, the ndicant Monk did not waver in his devout faith and flee. Instead, he raised his magic wand, the light once again spread over the followers, the power of the Divine Arts barely stabilizing their trembling hearts.
"Pick up your weapons and eradicate the evil, let the Holy Light shine again!"
The Monk’s incitent was particularly effective under the influence of the Divine Arts, temporarily suppressing their fear of the Lord.
It must be known that to combat the monsters, Grendel had distributed a batch of muskets to arm the militia, so of whom were lured into joining the mob.
Under such circumstances, they instinctively raised their weapons, countless muskets aid at Lance.
anwhile, from the other end of the street, the glow of torches began to appear, with nurous movents approaching from afar.
"What are you doing!"
"Put down your weapons!"
"Protect My Lord!"
Amidst the shouts, bleeding soldiers stepped out from the dim street, so wounded needing to be carried by carts, yet even at this mont, they did not hesitate for a bit, disregarding their own injuries, they grabbed their weapons and staggered forward.
After Lance took control of the wilderness, he began to transfer all the wounded back and for better escorting the wounded, he brought along the Honor Guard and several heroes.
Along the way, he was waiting for news from Grendel, and after finally receiving it, he hurried back ahead of others, who were slightly delayed.
Lance intended to fish for the enemy; the bait he offered was plentiful enough, he couldn’t possibly let them destroy the hard-won Hamlet.
Thus, the earlier scene occurred where he charged into the fire to rescue people.
At the sa ti, he intimidated these frenzied mobs, reducing the risk.
Now, by Lance’s side, in the light of the fire, gathered a hundred or so wounded from this wilderness dawn operation, along with so heroes, but curiously, the Honor Guard was nowhere to be seen.
This army comprised of wounded soldiers looked sowhat ragged, or rather, war isn’t supposed to be clean. Though they couldn’t match Lance’s level, they still appeared as a heap of battered troops.
But when they realized the mob dared to point weapons at the Lord, it was a different matter.
This ant they were enemies!
Without even speaking a word, only cold faces and dark muzzles faced the enemy.
Compared to the orderly formations of the army, the mob’s chaotic weaponry and disorganized appearance seed ridiculous.
The soldiers felt very safe when the army protected them, but when they beca the enemy, they understood what fear truly ant.
"No! No no! They are too strong!"
"Run, their eyes are filled with murderous intent!"
"Shh... Even now, the Holy Light cannot protect us anymore."
Both sides were locked in confrontation, but the terrorizing pressure had already driven the mob into a panic.
Gazing upon those faces in the mob, realizing this, Lance did not give the order to fire but stepped forward.
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