At this point, Lance finally didn't have to skulk about anymore. He could stand openly on the land of Hamlet.
However, there was still one more matter he needed to deal with: "visiting" the mayor.
"Susan, take the things back first. We'll return after handling this last bit," Lance said.
After contriving an excuse to send Susan away, Lance brought his men directly to the mayor's house.
The house, a two-story brick and stone structure with yards in both the front and back, was one of the best in the small town.
What surprised him, though, was the presence of two horses tied to the trough in the front yard.
Weren't these the horses the Butler had ridden away on? Their presence here… did it mean…?
Lance exchanged a glance with his companions. It was clear they had also sensed something amiss.
"I guessed right after all. It was the Butler who betrayed us and leaked our movements; otherwise, the mayor could not have possibly known the exact time and place of our return."
Lance had another consideration. By directly branding the mayor a traitor, he would have room to refute whatever the mayor might claim later.
After sneaking into the house, Lance quickly found the mayor, who was sound asleep—a fat man whose belly rose like a small hill as he lay there, snoring thunderously.
Damn it! Lance cursed internally, his resentment flaring at the sight of the mayor sleeping so comfortably after he himself had been busy all night.
He immediately found some ropes and tied the mayor securely to the bed, then turned to give orders to his men.
"Go search the other rooms. If you see anyone else, take them out," he instructed.
After sending the men away, Lance turned his attention to the mayor, tapping the barrel of his gun against the man's face.
"Wake up!" Seeing no response, he delivered a hard slap across the mayor's face.
"GAH!" The mayor gasped for air as if he couldn't catch his breath. As he tried to sit up, he realized he was tied to the bed.
"Who are you?" he asked instinctively upon seeing a dark figure standing beside him. Then, he snapped out of his grogginess, realized his predicament, and opened his mouth to shout.
"You can go ahead and shout louder," Lance said, shoving the gun barrel into his mouth, "or you can be a bit more cooperative."
The mayor fell silent and then nodded vigorously. Only then did Lance remove the gun barrel.
"The money is in the cabinet. Please don't hurt me," begged the mayor.
"Do you think I came to you for money?" Lance asked.
The mayor suddenly understood and exclaimed, "You're the Heir!"
"Surprised I'm not dead?" Lance sneered.
"Oh, I swear to the gods, this has nothing to do with me!" the mayor replied frantically. "It must be those damned bandits framing me!"
"I haven't even said anything, and you've already confessed everything," Lance shook his head and teased.
The mayor realized his self-incrimination but had no intention of admitting anything and continued to argue his innocence.
"I really don't know anything," he claimed.
"Do you think I would believe you? They nearly killed me!" Lance struggled to contain his surging emotions.
Before arriving in this world, he was an ordinary person, not some veteran war hero. When running from those bandits, he had been genuinely afraid, not just pretending. And that wasn't even to mention witnessing a bloody scene for the first time.
The steadfast, tactically commanding Lord that Dismas and Reynard saw was merely a persona he forced himself to play.
One could only say that reality indeed forced a person to grow up quickly, because those who were slow had already died.
Lance suppressed his emotions and said indifferently, "Even if you hadn't arranged for assassins, do you think I would spare you after what you've done to my domain?"
The Mayor, too, realized that Lance would never let him go and immediately threw out a piece of information as a threat. "Without me, the town would have been wiped out by bandits long ago! Don't think I don't know about the old Lord's dealings with those bandits! You just be a good Lord; the town's affairs are none of your concern."
Unfortunately for the mayor, Lance showed no surprise. On the contrary, he remained very calm. The next second, Lance drew his dagger and thrust it directly into the man's mouth, then twisted it forcefully.
"AH!"
The Mayor clearly hadn't anticipated this. The severe pain made his corpulent body shake violently, nearly causing the whole bed to fall apart. Still, it couldn't stop Lance. A scream had barely begun to rise before it was stifled, his mouth already stuffed with a rag.
"MMMPH!"
By this point, the Mayor had completely lost the ability to speak. The wound in his mouth, scraping against the rough cloth, felt like swallowing blades—an excruciating torment, as if he were being flayed by a thousand knives.
Lance smiled with satisfaction at this.
In fact, Lance knew more about the old Lord's dealings with the bandits than the Mayor did. Otherwise, why would he have sent his companions away to interrogate the Mayor alone?
Back when the old Lord was excavating the ruins, a Prophet came to town. He proclaimed that the old Lord's actions violated taboos and would bring about an apocalypse. In a world where religious influence was strong and the populace deeply superstitious, this was a serious claim.
This prophecy stirred public protest. As the rumors spread and fermented, panic was incited among the people, escalating from marches to a full-blown riot. This severely impacted the old Lord's excavation of the ruins.
To silence the clamorous populace, the ruthless old Lord hired a group of conscienceless murderers. Soon, an army composed of mobs, bandits, and professional killers began a massacre in the town.
Indeed, the so-called bandit invasion was actually a method employed by the old Lord to suppress the peasant revolt.
As the town's administrator, the Mayor might have known something. But sometimes, knowing too much isn't a good thing, which explained why he ended up in such a plight.
Lance knew that if he wanted to seize control of the town with a positive image, he had to eliminate everyone who knew the truth. The Butler was already dead; now, only the Mayor remained.
Lance turned to leave the room and meet up with Dismas and Reynard. Strangely, there was no one else in the house besides the Mayor.
Lance furrowed his brow at this.
He didn't like things being beyond his control, but for now, there was no other choice.
"Look what I've found!" Dismas's excited voice interrupted his thoughts. Lance walked over and found an entrance to a cellar beside the fireplace.
"'Be careful of traps,' Lance warned."
An ordinary person might have eagerly ventured in to explore. But Lance, deeply familiar with the dangers of this world, remained extremely cautious, as if a past loss haunted him.
Heeding Lance's warning, Dismas calmed down. He picked up a candelabrum and cautiously entered the cellar.
"'It's safe. Come on down,' Dismas called from below."
Hearing Dismas call from below, Lance entered. A stone staircase led downward into an arched passageway constructed of square-cut stones, indicating the builders had regarded this place with great importance.
Walking along the passage, Lance soon arrived below. He surveyed the cellar by the candelabrum's glow.