The woman now seemed hesitant. Recalling Lance's smile from moments ago—something she had never dared to dream of—and now facing his compassionate face, she couldn't help but tremble.
"I'm sorry, we're late." Lance, undaunted, seized the opportunity to embrace the woman and softly comforted her, "There won't be any more of those incidents. I will protect you. I will make sure you have enough to eat. I will..."
As he spoke, he secretly bestowed upon her a weak [Bless]. A warm current surged from the depths of the woman's heart, awakening the tears that had long dried up. Soon, she began to cry uncontrollably, as if a dam had broken, and the piece of metal in her hand also fell to the ground.
Upon seeing this, Reynard was taken aback, his grip on the hilt of his sword involuntarily tightening.
He was reminded of the merciful image of the Virgin cradling the Saint Heir he had seen as a child in the Church; in this moment, it overlapped with Lance's image.
Is this what a savior looks like!
Even Dismas, with his rough personality, was greatly shocked. Never had a noble been willing to approach filthy commoners, let alone embrace them. Nobles are never wrong, but this man chose to take on responsibilities that were not his, apologizing to the commoners and even letting them beat and scold him.At this moment, Dismas felt an unending strength surge through his somewhat weary body. He knew he would surely follow the Lord's glory to find redemption!
Seeing that was about enough, Lance dropped the act and released the woman.
Truth be told, having grown up in modern society, he was somewhat of a germaphobe. He was quite averse to the woman's filthy, tattered clothes touching him, not to mention the sour, rotten smell emanating from her. However, he had to endure it for the sake of crafting his public image.
After comforting the woman, Lance went to the bedside and observed the man lying there.
His hair and beard were white, clearly showing his advanced age. His complexion was as pale as a dead man's. His right eye was covered by a black eyepatch, and on his right shoulder was a conspicuous wound covered by a piece of torn cloth.
Lance frowned as he lifted the torn cloth to reveal the festering, pus-filled wound beneath.
"He's actually still alive?" Dismas said, somewhat astonished.
Indeed, an ordinary person suffering such a serious injury and enduring so many days of agony would have died long ago. Yet, this man was still alive. Although his breath was so faint it was almost imperceptible, there were indeed signs of life.
"She's been taking care of him. Otherwise, even with a strong constitution, he wouldn't have survived Death's scythe," Lance commented after surveying the surroundings. He then turned to the woman. "Why are you saving him?"
Had the woman gone mad?
In the eyes of the townspeople, after all she had experienced, she must have truly gone insane. Otherwise, how could she, who could barely feed herself, think of saving someone else?
But Lance sensed she was more like someone caught in a kind of hysteria, projecting the feelings she had for her deceased husband and son onto this mercenary.
His being alive meant her husband and son were still alive.
But in reality, she also knew this was just an emotional crutch. Now that Lance had intervened, she was forced to confront the truth and, unable to cope, broke down crying.
"Because he saved my son..."
As the woman slowly recounted her story, Lance and the other two heard a version that was somewhat different from what the store clerk had said.
The bandits hadn't attacked the town from the start. Before that, they had suddenly appeared and begun robbing passing merchant caravans on the old road. To ensure their safety, these caravans hired mercenaries as guards. Ironically, this stimulated the town's economy, attracting many mercenaries seeking to earn a living.
However, about half a month ago, the bandits suddenly began attacking the town. The Mayor immediately conscripted able-bodied men from among the townspeople, and the woman's husband was one of them, forced into the makeshift militia.
The town church hosted a contingent of Church Knights and Priests. Although they didn't join the fray, their presence served as a deterrent. Along with the mercenaries who had come seeking a livelihood and the militiamen forcibly conscripted by the Mayor, they initially managed to resist the bandits' attacks, resulting in a stalemate.
Among these mercenaries was an experienced veteran. While the other mercenaries indulged in revelry, he was in the square organizing the militiamen and townspeople, explaining his training methods. Anyone interested in learning self-defense skills was encouraged to participate.
Then one day, war broke out without warning. This time, however, the bandits had somehow acquired several cannons. They used these to smash through the town's defenses, then stormed in to burn, kill, and plunder.
The Church Knights retreated to the church, the Mayor fled, and the woman's husband was torn to shreds by a bomb during the first skirmish.
Only the veteran remained, leading the surviving militiamen to organize a defense and cover the retreat of the townspeople.
In the midst of the battle, while protecting her son, the veteran was pierced through the right shoulder by a bandit's sword. Ultimately, however, a bomb claimed her son's life, and the veteran fell on the battlefield.
She didn't flee with the others. Instead, amidst the chaos, she dragged the veteran to the rubble of a collapsed building, managing to evade the bandits' pillaging.
After the bandits left, she dragged the veteran back to her home and, of course... her son.
Lance followed the woman's gaze to a corner of the room where a straw mat lay. He hadn't noticed it before. Now, he didn't need to be told what was beneath it. This must be the source of the foul odor.
Lance sighed and, under the watchful eyes of the others, lifted the straw mat. The putrefied corpse beneath was revealed—the skeletal remains of a child about six or seven years old.
The impact was tremendous. Even Lance, who had mentally prepared himself, was starkly reminded in this moment of the world's cruelty.
It was the terror of death.
Dismas, upon seeing the child's corpse, became even more agitated than Lance. He gnashed his teeth and shouted,
"I will slit their throats!"
But Lance was not intimidated by this. Instead, he turned his gaze sternly towards the others and said,
"Anger will cloud your vision. Calmness is the sharp blade we need to slay evil."
Dismas managed to contain his agitation. Only then did Lance turn to the woman. "The departed are gone, but the living must go on. Now, please allow us to give the child his final peace."
Tears welled up in the woman's eyes again as she looked at the skeletal remains. She nodded in agreement but then turned away, covering her face as she wept.
"No, ma'am, please look here."
Lance guided her to look at the corpse. He then approached solemnly, raising his hand and murmuring incantations.
"I shall grant you rest."
The [Sacrifice] ability activated. The next second, the child's corpse was devoured by the Void. In the woman's eyes, her child's remains vanished in an instant, causing her to freeze. The next moment, however, she instinctively tried to move forward.
"My child! My child!"
"Rest assured, he has entered God's kingdom. There will be no more war or death, no hunger or disease. He will be happy forever."
"Really...?"
"Truly."