CHAPTER 217: CHAPTER 189: ARRIVING AT THE LOYAL HAMLET_2

Barton couldn’t help but take notice when he heard the name Eugene; he had heard of this mechanical Master before. He hadn’t expected the Lord to have been able to invite him back, let alone a group of professional craftsmen.

Lance quickly made the introductions and then arranged for Susan to handle the handover.

Regardless, settling these people was the priority, as they were the core for forming the artillery.

While he was busy with these matters, Lance turned to see Tiffany, who seemed to be waiting for something.

"Is something the matter?"

"You’re the Lord of Hamlet?" Tiffany asked, her expression somewhat peculiar. Although she had suspected as much, it was now confirmed.

"Is it that surprising?" Lance asked composedly, handing her the plans. "Arrange things according to this for now."

"Didn’t you say Father was in Hamlet?" Tiffany took the plans but made no further move.

"He’s over at the farm playing king of the hill, much more comfortable than I am. Let’s get things sorted out first, then I’ll have someone call him over. We can have dinner together tonight and chat at leisure."

"Is he really alright?" Tiffany couldn’t help but frown, a hint of her stubbornness showing.

Don’t forget, she was once so determined she shaved her head. Although she didn’t do a very good job of it, it’s undeniable that her personality isn’t weak; on the contrary, it’s quite tough.

"When have I ever lied to you?" Lance’s casual remark dissipated her hostility.

It seemed he truly hadn’t lied to her. He had previously said her father controlled the farm. Although she was unclear about what had transpired, she still chose to trust him—for now.

"I’ll leave this to you for now. It’s getting late; make sure everyone is settled in first."

He still had many tasks to attend to, so after giving some brief instructions, he turned and took Balistan and Barton with him back to the mayor’s residence.

However, just as they entered, they sensed something amiss—a wolf’s howl pierced the air. It wasn’t the familiar call of the she-wolf, however; this howl carried a strong sense of warning and threat.

The Wolf Spirit, which had been quiescent beside him, inexplicably stirred and actually drifted out on its own.

Lance had no intention of letting it move freely. He immediately suppressed it with his will and then inquired, "What’s going on?"

"My Lord, after you left, the she-wolf took her cubs into the backyard. We found it difficult to approach, so we let her roam freely, tossing in a chicken every day. Everything was fine until three days ago, when she howled all night. It wasn’t until daylight when we went to feed them that we discovered only one cub remained; the others were all dead. The she-wolf had also gone mad. She attacked anyone who got close, so we had to confine her in the backyard," Balistan reported. He added that if the wolf hadn’t belonged to the Lord, she probably would have been skinned by now.

"Three days ago?" Lance mused. How could this have happened so suddenly?

"She was fine during the day, but that night she suddenly went into a frenzy," Balistan added. Upon hearing this, Lance immediately understood.

Three days prior was the night of the full moon—the night of the White Wolf Devouring Moon ritual. According to the records in the White Wolf Scroll, the wolves of the Fang Wolf Tribe all carried the Wolf God Bloodline. To select a more powerful White Wolf, they would conduct a ritual during the full moon, forcing the wolves to kill each other and devour their bloodlines. The she-wolf would be among the first devoured by her own offspring, leaving only one survivor from the litter. However, this was a ritual for selecting the Wolf King. The scroll stated that only a litter blessed by the Wolf God from the entire tribe was eligible. In layman’s terms, it meant the offspring of the previous Wolf King—the litter with the strongest Life Force, selectively bred through generations. How could ordinary White Wolves possibly be eligible? Moreover, he had taken this litter away from the tribe. Logically, without a Wizard or Shaman to conduct the ritual, and with no Wolf God supposedly involved... He had never expected such a situation to occur, which is why he hadn’t reacted initially. Surely his luck couldn’t be *that* good, could it? For the bloodline to undergo atavism right under his care... No, that wasn’t right!

Lance suddenly remembered something: he had previously used Bless to strengthen these wolf pups. That had to be the problem.

Who would have thought... Who would have thought... His own unintentional act had actually led to this...

Lance didn’t dwell on what had already happened; he had far more troublesome matters to handle.

"Let’s go inside first, then we’ll talk."

Back in the familiar hall, he had to admit, just as he himself had said: Totnes might be good, but it belonged to others. Only one’s own "kennel" felt comfortable.

"Alright, tell me what’s happened in town during this period. How many of the tasks I assigned have you completed?"

The two wasted no words and began their reports immediately.

Barton was in charge of reconstruction. However, with limited manpower and a construction period of barely ten days, there wasn’t much they could accomplish overall. The main focus was on repairing damaged buildings, especially residential houses. The patch-up work they managed could only accommodate a little over a thousand people.

Lance knew Barton hadn’t been slacking; efficiency in this era was just that poor. However, with so many new arrivals, the majority being laborers, the housing issue wouldn’t be too serious as long as raw materials kept up. After all, the tents could hold out for a while longer.

"But..."

Hearing that, Lance knew things weren’t so simple.

And indeed, Barton presented him with a rather serious problem: the redevelopment of the graveyard next to the church had been halted due to resistance. Simultaneously, plans for the further renovation of the building complex behind the church were also restricted.

The reason was simple: the townspeople had lived there for generations, and the graveyard was filled with their relatives and acquaintances. Now, with graves being dug up and corpses burned, they feared being treated the same way after their own deaths. The church issue was related. Now, without the threat from bandits, some people were thinking about the church again. Simply put, once their material lives were secure, they began to seek spiritual fulfillment.

Damn it! These troublemakers! Hearing this, Lance truly wanted to eliminate all these troublemakers. Had they forgotten their pain after just a few days? For generations, they were enslaved and exploited by the Empire and the Church! I went through hell to rescue them, to let them stand up, to give them human dignity! Now, with a little free time, they immediately turn around and kneel again, not striving for a better life but pursuing worthless deities! Their servile nature clearly hasn’t been eradicated! Indeed, he wasn’t as smart as his ancestors. To think he’d foolishly forsaken their wisdom to talk to these people about life and dignity, only to cause such trouble... They couldn’t be allowed to eat their fill, nor have too much leisure. They needed to be kept half-full, never starving but never satisfied, buried in heavy work from dawn till dusk. They needed to be so exhausted that once they hit their beds, they wouldn’t have the energy to think about anything else. Otherwise, these fellows would spend all day plotting trouble. He had to strike hard! Otherwise, these troublemakers would really think he, their Lord, was some kind of pushover! He could give them everything, and he could just as easily take it all away. He would make those people understand that in Hamlet, he was the one and only—he was the true god!

"I will handle this," Lance replied, his voice heavy.

Both Barton and Balistan could sense their Lord was displeased; his imposing aura put pressure on them.

"Nothing terrible has happened in town recently, has it?" Lance looked at Balistan, who commanded the town’s remaining twenty soldiers and was responsible for its security.

"Nothing of note in town, My Lord. Everything is proceeding according to your plan. However, our men have discovered some issues outside the town."

"Speak," Lance ordered, his expression turning grave, as if he sensed something.

"The patrolling soldiers discovered something... in the wilderness north of the farms."

Balistan was responsible not only for protecting the town but also for arranging patrols outside to guard the townspeople engaged in land reclamation and logging. Under these circumstances, some of his men discovered strange beasts in the wilderness outside of town.

"They’re creatures that no longer look like wolves or dogs. It’s as if they’re diseased—their eyes are black, their bodies emaciated, just skin and bones, and their fur is falling out in large patches, leaving bald spots. The moment they encounter anyone, they snarl and attack like mad things. Fortunately, our soldiers are equipped with long spears, so they killed the mad dogs directly. Then, following your instructions, My Lord, they cremated the bodies. We’ve also temporarily halted logging and land reclamation in that direction, pending your decision upon your return."