Chapter 1392 - 749: Crushing Blow (Part 2)

Chapter 1392: Chapter 749: Crushing Blow (Part 2)

The Honor Guard didn’t use lethal weapons but were equipped with shields and bone maces. A shield strike knocked them out, and when the maces were swung, they crushed bones on those cultists.

The crackling sounds were like frying beans, but fortunately, those cultists were resilient; otherwise, too many deaths would be hard to explain to the Lord.

The spellcasters tried to resist, casting sorcery at the Honor Guard, but it had no effect whatsoever.

They had seen every kind of situation, having emerged from the dungeon.

Instead, the cultists’ spellcasters revealed their positions, and someone immediately targeted them.

An arrow shot out, directly interrupting the spellcaster’s actions. If the intention wasn’t to leave one alive, the arrow would have pierced the eye socket instead of the torso.

Cultists were fine bullying ordinary people, but facing this group of champions, they were like mere chicks.

There were over a hundred cultists, but facing less than fifty Honor Guards, they shattered like the ordinary people they usually menaced.

These cultists didn’t even understand what the Sect of Ascension was; they simply followed the killings, relishing the ecstasy of power.

They looked arrogant until hammered into submission.

Many realized something was amiss and fled, but the Honor Guard on the outskirts awaited them.

Can someone outrun a horse?

Or a bullet?

One shot per target, and among the snipers outside, Margaret’s figure emerged.

School had stifled her recently, so she sought Lance at sunrise, proving she was also a warrior.

With the big fight over, remaining trash gave her a chance to move about, avoiding stagnation.

Because this was a true crushing battle, even cult leaders couldn’t help.

Even if the leader were a Legendary Caster, Reynard wouldn’t just stand idle, rendering my Holy Spear ineffective!

Moreover, so many sharpshooters and bombs here meant any spellcasting interference led to a doomed melee advance.

"Everyone down! Get down!"

This shout signaled the end of the battle as it wasn’t directed at the cultists but at the ordinary people.

As for the cultists, they were either asleep on the ground or wailing with broken limbs.

Reynard hadn’t acted until the situation calmed. He entered the village, watching as the Honor Guard restrained the cultists and dumped them at the village entrance.

Margaret followed, witnessing the tragic scene—stench everywhere, chaos scattered, severed limbs or fallen bodies all around.

Bite marks were visible on some corpses, terror undiminished, some children’s lives forever frozen that day.

Margaret initially wanted to treat the villagers, but barely anyone was breathing.

The young hunter who had wanted to flee returned, finding his father’s corpse. The old hunter was butchered, almost splitting him apart.

He could only embrace the body, trying to piece it together, crying in anguish.

Such reactions weren’t unique—various sobs added oppression, with roughly fifty casualties—almost half the village gone.

"Esteemed ones!"

Finally, an old farmer-like figure emerged, one of the few who still could speak.

"Don’t be afraid; the surrounding Lords colluded with the cultists to invade Hamlet. We’re sent by the Lord of Hamlet to eliminate them."

This person didn’t respond verbally, but worry remained etched on his face—not daring to show it.

They knew nothing of the Lord of Hamlet or the cult and nobility disputes—just why they suffered misfortune in the skirmish.

Reynard paid no heed, knowing these lifelong villagers couldn’t comprehend. After brief communication, he withdrew the Honor Guard from the village.

After a simple respite, reinforcements arrived, thanks to the empire’s plunder plan, providing many horses, supplying cavalry, and scouts and logistics.

Without mechanization, the strategy was to implement "horsification."

Numerous reconnaissance soldiers accompanied the Honor Guard, those who hunted cultists from the outskirts.

A five-man team stayed for the subsequent prisoner transport. After handing over, Reynard assembled forces for continued action.

Why did the Honor Guard dismount to battle, rather than charge directly?

The reason was their long-distance raid; though two horses per man, resting was needed, and capturing was the goal, rather than excessive killing.

Therefore, they dismounted, allowing the horses to recover, enabling injury management.

Moreover, the village had buildings—though straw huts or mud houses, within, horses weren’t as nimble as men; horses couldn’t enter.

It sufficed to station scouts and sharpshooters outside for containment.

Having resolved one, they immediately departed for the next location.

"He’s our Lord." After the breath suppresses it’s difficult to leave.

An expression of gratitude was profoundly rooted. There were many silences in Hamlet.

Approaching quietly within the team allows the chaos to close.

"Alright, take some rest these days, supplement meat, eggs, milk to aid recovery."

"Thank you, My Lord! Thank you!"

Lance comforted the people; although the Blood Moon vanished, many troubles lingered.

Long-term darkness led to physical issues, let alone the Blood Moon’s corruption, especially among infants.

Grendel busied with doctors preventing escalation, merely suppression—core issues unresolved.

Upon his return, Lance tackled these matters promptly, resolving many with his strength.

Not showcasing Demigod prowess, but artificially "treating" with techniques understandable to ordinary people.

Doctors examined, diagnosed, explained, applied medication—Lance didn’t act directly.

Only he could wield the "Panacea" for miraculous recovery; his current role was supporting doctors as backdrop.

He finished aiding the doctors only to receive word.

"My Lord, the first batch of cultists has been transported, outside the town."

"Understood, have Amanda interrogate their leader after acquiring information, parade them in the square, proclaim their identities and crimes, before confining them to the sanatorium."

Lance wasn’t concerned—those newly fallen lacked conviction yet embodied evil in abundance.

Without their leaders, their sole utility was propaganda for impending war.

After legal execution, usable materials for medical research could yield more discoveries.

"Yes!"

The subordinates made arrangements; Lance continued handling affairs. Completing a circuit quickly instilled an inexplicable professionalism and awe in the populace with his medical coat.

Most children in Hamlet had parental care, even in single-parent homes resulting from incidents, family support remained.

But not forgetting an orphan batch, placed in schools.

As time neared, Lance remembered he hadn’t visited the school for a meal in ages, intending to check on the future of Hamlet.

After releasing the doctors, Lance headed to the school cafeteria, preparing to connect emotionally with students.

Yet unexpectedly, trouble arose.

"Where’s the nutritional meal I subsidized for you?"