Ruin has come to our family

"This has nothing to do with her! It was all my doing! I beg you, my lord, please spare my daughter!"

"Give me everything, and I will spare your daughter." Lance had no interest in bargaining. He raised the flintlock, his thumb cocking the hammer.

"I'll give it to you!" The landowner buckled under the pressure and agreed. Only then did Lance lower his pistol, though he couldn't resist a parting shot.

"Things would have been much simpler if you had just cooperated. Did you truly think you could escape?"

"The only reason David kept me alive was because he couldn't find my money." The landowner had calmed down, stating plainly the reason David had not killed him. As he spoke, he seemed to accept his fate, to see his own future clearly. "I hope you will keep your promise, my lord."

"As long as she causes no trouble, I will not touch her," Lance said, glancing at the weeping woman, his expression placid.

After receiving Lance's assurance, the landowner led them to his hidden caches of money and other valuables. To Lance's surprise, most of the silver coins in the town had flowed into his hands. There were only two chests, but they contained far more silver than the ones in the cellar, and there was even a small, exquisite box containing over fifty gold coins, along with a large stack of land deeds and contracts of indenture.

"Is this all there is?" Lance asked, grabbing a handful of gold, still not satisfied with the heavy feeling in his hand.

"That is three generations of my family's wealth... It is all here." The landowner's voice was numb as he spoke. He thought now that if he had not taken David in, if he had been more honest, perhaps he would not have ended up in this state.

Lance cared little for his thoughts. For the sake of the farmstead's grain, no matter what the landowner had done, he would have found a way to take this place. The only difference would have been the methods, soft or hard. He could not tolerate the security of his food supply being in another's hands. From ancient times to the present, he had seen too many tragedies born from that single vulnerability. His sense of crisis was absolute.

...

Excluding the travel time, the actual conquest of the farmstead had taken less than an hour. But the subsequent investigation, inventory, and other miscellaneous tasks dragged on. The root of the problem was that he had no one under him whom he could use. Dismas and his companions were good at killing, but administration was another matter. Lance had to oversee everything personally.

Still, he had found one or two useful people.

"Mr. Walter, I am leaving the farmstead in your hands."

"Thank you for your generosity, my lord. I will be sure to manage the farmstead according to your requirements." How much sincerity was in Walter's words was debatable, but he certainly did not dare to refuse. The blood and brains at the door to his own house had not yet been cleaned away. It all felt surreal. This morning, he had been planning his escape. How had he gone from that to managing the entire farmstead by nightfall?

At that moment, the turncoat captain jogged in and reported to Lance. "My lord, everyone from the farmstead has been assembled."

"You've come at a good time," Lance said, calling the captain over and giving him instructions. "From now on, you will assist Mr. Walter and carry out his orders."

"Yes, yes!" the captain agreed readily, showing no objection to having Walter placed above him. The formidable David was dead, and the landowner and his family were now serfs. He, on the other hand, had regained his position. He had hit the jackpot. This small matter was familiar territory for him, and he quickly assured Lance he would complete the task.

Lance did not care if these two were genuinely working for him. He just needed someone to maintain order on the farmstead and ensure the output of resources. The rest he could deal with slowly, after he had handled more important matters.

...

The sun was setting, though the sky had not yet darkened. In the past, the serfs would still be at work. But now, they were all gathered in the open space before the manor. They had perhaps heard something, or seen Lance on his inspection, or witnessed the battle that had taken place. But most of their murmuring was about the guards who were now bound hand and foot and strung together in a line. The surviving guards who had participated in the fight were filled with fear and despair for their future. They still didn't even fully understand what had happened before they were defeated and had surrendered.

At that moment, Lance and his party emerged from the house. He stood on the watchtower, the setting sun at his back creating a halo that made him seem almost divine.

"I am the new lord of this domain—Lance Hamlet."

His words caused a stir among the serfs, but this was not his first time speaking before such a large crowd. He paid the disturbance no mind and continued, recounting the crimes of the landowner, laying all the blame at his feet, and raising the great banner of "Justice" for himself. As the banner was waved, the serfs, who had been oppressed for so long by the landowner and David, finally let their emotions erupt. But most were still reserved, not yet shouting for blood. They, at least, had had food to eat, which made them different from the starving mob in the town.

Lance hated long speeches. He knew what these serfs needed most. He immediately issued his judgment.

"I am here to do three things! First, the landowner, and all the guards who participated in his rebellion, are hereby demoted to the rank of slave!"

As he finished speaking, the landowner and his daughter, along with the other captured guards, were pushed forward.

"Huzzah!" The common folk were ecstatic. Seeing their master's downfall seemed to make them forget their own suffering. The captured guards, on the other hand, were relieved. Many of them had been serfs to begin with; returning to that state was no great change. But for the landowner and his daughter, it was a grim fate. Neither of them had ever worked a day in their lives, a fact attested to by her two-hundred-plus-jin frame.

"Second, the food standard for all serfs will be raised. You will have a two-hour break in the middle of the day for food and rest."

"Third, those who perform well will receive bonuses. Those who are outstanding will be granted a special pardon by the lord, their debts forgiven, and they will once again become freemen!"

"Long live the lord!"

Lance's two subsequent decrees ignited a storm of cheers. Only real benefits could win their support. Now, these people recognized only Lance. The authority that the landowner and David had accumulated vanished in the space of a few sentences.

"Let the feast begin!"

With a great wave of his hand, food that had been prepared in advance was brought out. Amidst the cheers of the serfs, Lance retreated with his small party to the dining hall for their own meal. The resources of the farmstead were excellent, as they had all been funneled to the landowner's family. White bread, a rarity in the town, was plentiful here. They had not eaten much meat in the past two days, and taking the farmstead was cause for celebration. Lance was extravagant for once, ordering the cooks to prepare all the meat they could find in the kitchen and even had them slaughter a chicken.