Ruin has come to our family

White bread, stewed meat, roast chicken, vegetable potage, and a platter of berries.

Despite the spread, to Lance, who was accustomed to the myriad foods of the modern world, the meal tasted like chewing wax. Their method of cooking was simply to boil everything in a single pot. The concept of "cuisine" did not exist here, because spices were worth their weight in gold, a luxury even the landowner could not afford. The salt, too, was coarse, tasting not particularly salty, but rather bitter. Too much of it, and it would catch in your throat.

But for the others, a full belly was a blessing in itself. Walter, who had been starving for days, ate with great satisfaction.

With Walter now in charge of the farmstead, Lance felt he could be at ease, relying on the man's natural abilities and experience. That evening, they began the journey back to the town.

The atmosphere in the wagon was completely different from the morning's tension. It was almost relaxed. The wooden shutters on the windows were open, revealing the verdant wheat fields on either side of the road. A gentle evening breeze sent soft waves rippling across the fields, carrying the unique, rustic scent of plants and earth. Seeing this, Lance's anxious heart finally began to settle. For a moment, he let himself forget the troubles of the town and relax.

"My lord," Barristan's voice suddenly cut through the quiet. "Have you perhaps forgotten something?"

The words snapped Lance's attention back to the present. His mind raced, and he quickly realized what the veteran was referring to. If he hadn't been reminded, he truly would have forgotten. But as a shrewd lord (at least, that was his persona), he could not admit it.

"I did not forget," Lance said, his face a mask of deep solemnity. "I was merely protecting you. For you do not know what we face, nor the price that must be paid."

It had to be said, Lance had a knack for playing the pious fraud. A single sentence had shifted the atmosphere to one of gravity. Hearing this, Dismas, who was driving the cart up front, also grew serious. He remembered his own reaction upon hearing the truth and couldn't help but offer his own counsel.

"Brother, some things are best left unknown."

But their words did not deter Barristan. On the contrary, they only made him more curious. The secret arts that had pulled him back from the brink of death, the miraculous power that made corpses vanish, and now these two riddlers...

"Are you certain you wish to know?" Lance asked one last time. Seeing the veteran nod, he began his tale.

"This story is a long one. It begins with..."

Compared to his first, impromptu performance, Lance was now more experienced. This time, he delivered it like a heroic epic, filled with tragedy and sacrifice. He knew that the more one says, the more chances there are to make a mistake, so he kept the story on a macro level, avoiding specific details. In reality, he was crafting an identity for himself, while also creating a narrative that would absolve him of future blame. Any problems left behind by the Ancestor could now be conveniently blamed on the cult and the traitorous steward. He, of course, remained the pure, immaculate savior.

When he spoke of how his entire family had been sacrificed to the cause, and how he, having received a divine revelation, had resolutely chosen to take up the burden, even Barristan was visibly moved.

"My lord, allow me to express my most profound respect."

"Some things must be done, and someone must stand up to do them," Lance said with a small smile, appearing magnanimous. He did not forget to mention the others. "Besides, I am not alone. When Dismas and Reynauld learned the truth, they did not hesitate to join me. Without their help, my will would be for naught."

At this, Dismas felt a strange sense of pride and emotion, and he couldn't help but speak up. "It was you, my lord, who gave my life meaning. Otherwise, I would still be wasting my life like a useless man."

"Hahaha!" Lance laughed loudly. "I was afraid at first, too. But then I thought, since I have to die anyway, I might as well show that fiend the courage of humanity! I'll put a shot in him before I die and show him we are not to be trifled with!"

"That's right! Let the bastard have a taste of what we can do!" Dismas's spirits were high. Even after a long day, he was full of energy.

"Your courage, my lord, makes the Light shine all the brighter!" Reynauld, who had been sitting silently, cradling his sword, now joined the conversation. "With every step we take, we purify this unholy curse."

"..."

Barristan, a man who thought he had seen all that life and death had to offer, felt the immense weight behind their cheerful laughter and talk. It was the resolve of men who had already accepted death.

"My lord, permit me to join you," Barristan said, his tone suddenly serious, interrupting their boasting.

Lance shook his head. "I saved you because you saved my people. You have no debt to me. Besides, you have already helped me liberate this town from those men. I am deeply grateful. There is no need for such words."

"Do you disdain me for my age, my lord?"

"No. If I did, I would not have had you fight the mercenary captain. I know you are a powerful soldier. But the existence of the fiend cannot be known to many. Our work will have no glory, no praise. There is only sacrifice, and death."

"I have already borne enough," Barristan said, his voice firm. "Only death will bring me release." There was a reason he had come here, seeking battle with the brigands. Only by keeping busy, by walking the line between life and death, could he keep the phantoms in his mind at bay. For this, he had sought out the world's most bloody and brutal battlefields. Now, it seemed, there was no more interesting way to die than in the fight against a great evil.

"I respect a warrior's choice," Lance said, his expression turning serious. "Dismas, stop the cart."

The wagon halted on the country road. There, in the middle of the fields, with only a few witnesses, Barristan swore his oath to Lance. In truth, the old traditions of knights swearing fealty to lords were fading in this world; the tide of modernity had reached the great cities and was spreading outward. Lance himself had no fondness for such things. This oath was less about fealty and more about their shared goal: to bring down the Ancestor.

Few would ever know of this secret oath, but a fellowship dedicated to challenging the great evil was growing.

The farmstead was about five kilometers from the town in a straight line. The draft horse made quick work of the distance.

"Alright, you have all had a long day. Go and rest."

Lance took out three purses of coin and gave them to his men. Barristan looked at the money, still a bit dazed.

"Take it," Lance said with a smile, clapping the old soldier on the shoulder. "I can't have you risking your lives for me for nothing. Besides, a man can't be without coin in his pocket."

Dismas was used to Lance's ways by now. He took the purse and pulled Barristan and Reynauld along with him. "Come on. The drinks are on me."