CHAPTER 106: CHAPTER 106: SCAPEGOAT_1

Lance felt respect for those Church militants who had never backed down and all fought to the death.

A typical Feudal Army would have fled long ago; only they fought to the death. It seemed that the psychological defenses built by religious indoctrination were very effective in dealing with these monsters.

Just the thought made him involuntarily cast a glance towards Reynard with his peripheral vision, unsure of how he felt.

"And then? Surely, you didn’t all turn into deserters, did you?" Lance changed the subject back.

"After I fled the battlefield, a large number of soldiers converged around me, including Artillerymen, Musketeers, and Serfs. We didn’t manage to bring out many supplies, but a large part of the cannons and ammunition was retained because they had been moved out early.

At that time, we planned to go to the nearest city for supplies and then report the situation, waiting for orders from above. These monsters must not be left unchecked.

But in reality, we were attacked by the Empire’s army on the way. Those troops were precisely the Noble armed forces that had fled earlier, forming the Allied Army. They attacked us on the pretext that we were corrupted by an Evil God.

We were forced to fight our way out. Fortunately, our weapons and equipment were stronger than theirs. But this battle also resulted in the loss of some of our men, as well as most of our firearms and artillery pieces.

At that time, to avoid those pursuers, I could only lead the remnant troops to move away from the towns and try to take a detour back to Totnes. That’s until we saved the woman from the bandits. You should know what happened after that. Under the woman’s seduction, I made a grave mistake."

"Why did those cowards attack you?"

Dismas seemed quite indignant. He didn’t understand why those who fled didn’t attack the monsters but instead attacked Barton’s battered forces.

HUMPH. Balistan sneered with a look of disdain, "It’s simple. Someone has to be blamed for losing a war."

Having served in the military, he could more easily understand the situation Barton faced.

"Plus, the Commander and those others are all nobles; I’m the only one of common birth," Barton added. Of course, he couldn’t have risen to the rank of Captain without any political savvy; he actually understood why those people attacked him.

It wasn’t just the lost war Balistan mentioned; it was also because the musket troops and artillery companies had suffered heavy losses.

These thousand men were elite forces, nurtured through substantial investment from the Eastern Province. This was especially true for the Artillerymen, for whom a special academy had to be established to train talent, with recruitment even reaching down to the commoners. The dedication was clear.

Additionally, those muskets and cannons were the best and most advanced products. The cost alone would have sufficed to maintain an army of ten thousand.

But no one expected such a well-equipped army to fall at the hands of refugees. Even though the influence of Supernatural Power played a part, those high-ranking individuals above didn’t care much about that. They wanted to see a return that matched their investments.

No one could bear the responsibility for such a fiasco. A scapegoat was needed—and one with a status not too low, to carry this particular burden.

Unluckily, among these Non-commissioned Officers, he was the only non-noble. He also hadn’t run away at the first opportunity, albeit involuntarily. Precisely because of this, those nobles couldn’t allow Barton to return alive.

Everyone else had fled; you did not.

If you were dead, everyone could still honor your valiant sacrifice for buying them time.

But you didn’t die. What if you spilled the beans in front of those above? How could everyone else continue to get by then?

So he and those remaining soldiers must die. They must carry the blame for causing the defeat, for only by doing so could everyone else be saved.

Sometimes, the dead are more useful than the living.

"Does that mean as long as you return, you’ll be able to expose those guys’ tricks?"

Dismas, who abhorred injustice, was still struggling with how to bring misfortune to those nobles.

Hearing such naive words, Lance couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head as he explained.

"Do you really think the Commander is a fool? Barton and his men have probably already been labeled deserters responsible for the collapse of the battle. Do you think those high-ranking officials will believe the word of a deserter or the word of a noble? The moment he sets foot back there, he’ll be hanged on the gallows.

The moment he escaped the battle, he should have immediately sought out the Church to explain the situation. Then, while the main force rested, a smaller unit—each man with three horses—should have rushed back to Totnes. They needed to meet the governor and explain everything before the Commander could. Perhaps that way, there would have been a chance."

Dismas, who had always struggled at the bottom rungs of society, indeed hadn’t encountered such situations much. However, he wasn’t stupid; he understood the intricacies once he heard Lance’s explanation.

Still, Dismas showed a look of disgust and couldn’t help but complain bitterly.

"Those nobles are truly disgusting! Do we just have to watch them act so brazenly?"

AHEM. Balistan coughed softly as a reminder, the implication clear.

Only then did Dismas realize that his own Lord was also a noble. His words had been a rather sweeping condemnation, which made him a bit embarrassed.

However, Lance wasn’t concerned with these matters. Instead, he pondered the information he had gathered thus far.

First, this world didn’t just have the Evil God he was dealing with. It seemed there were genuinely many strange Supernatural Powers, most of them twisted and insane.

Honestly, Lance couldn’t understand how the teachings of the Sons of Harvest Sect regarding harvest and endless food could manifest as greed and endless hunger. This couldn’t simply be described as twisted; it was something human thought could not comprehend.

Second, against monsters, the effectiveness of cannons and muskets wasn’t very good; the impact of melee weapons was much more direct.

He had originally planned to transition his entire army (though it was only thirty soldiers) to a musket unit. But now, considering Barton’s situation, he realized he couldn’t forgo the need for close combat; training had to continue. However, for Gunners, due to the small wound area they inflicted, their threat to monsters was likely average. It still had to be the Heavy Armored Greatsword Fighters.

Of course, Lance hadn’t lost faith in firearms. On the contrary, this reinforced his determination to climb the tech tree.

He had witnessed the true terror of humanity’s war machines. Current technological levels were merely a limitation; otherwise, with the advent of heavy weapons, even monsters would be forced to ’dance to their tune’.

Third, the Church wasn’t as weak as he had imagined. They displayed an astonishing performance when facing an Evil God.

Of course, this could also be because the existence of these evil cults directly threatened the Church’s core tenets and authority. Inaction would shake the Church to its very foundations.

But no matter what, at certain times, it was a force that could be utilized.

Fourth, the state of the Empire was more chaotic than he had thought. From the conversation, Lance could vaguely sense a rift between the Empire and the Eastern Province.

Thinking back to the calamity, the Empire likely hadn’t ignored it but truly couldn’t handle it. There were probably internal issues at play as well...