CHAPTER 221: CHAPTER 190: HAMLET DOES NOT NEED TRASH_2

With a deep sigh, Reynard removed his blood-stained helmet.

The earlier cleanup efforts along the route had indeed proven effective. They hadn’t encountered any bandits, and even the ill-intentioned refugees they met didn’t dare to make any moves against the convoy.

Along the way, they constantly encountered fleeing refugees. Upon seeing such a large convoy, these refugees instinctively gathered around it, knowing that sticking together was crucial for survival in the wilderness.

Reynard was fully aware of the potential danger they posed and had no intention of incorporating them into his group. He focused solely on maintaining the convoy’s order but couldn’t stop them from trailing behind.

The reason was simple: managing a massive group of over a thousand people with his limited men was extremely difficult, especially since these refugees were completely undisciplined.

These refugees weren’t particularly impressed by Reynard, the Knight, especially after discovering he wasn’t the cruel type. Their dawdling and dragging things out caused significant delays.

Consequently, more and more refugees tagged along. As their numbers swelled, so did their audacity. Finally, when the convoy was cooking a large communal pot of food, the tantalizing aroma attracted the lagging refugees.

Incited by a few malicious individuals among them, the refugees launched an attack on the convoy. They craved food and were willing to use the flesh and blood of others to satisfy their insatiable hunger.

In short, the convoy was too large a target, the journey too long, and thus, they had attracted far too many refugees.

Lance had no comment. He could only conclude that he had overestimated their efficiency, or perhaps it was simply a limitation of the era.

This situation forced Reynard, a military leader, into the unwelcome role of a logistics transport chief, which was undoubtedly a difficult position for him.

"Don’t blame yourself for this, and don’t feel too pressured," Lance said.

Things hadn’t spiraled out of control yet. Although there were casualties, the main body of the convoy remained intact, and the risks were still within a manageable range.

A significant reason for Reynard’s difficulty in managing the convoy was his inherent integrity. Perhaps it was also because his family was among them—who would want to appear overly harsh in front of their loved ones?

This wasn’t a situation with easy choices, which left him vulnerable to the manipulations of these cunning refugees.

They had no idea what Hamlet was or what awaited them there. All they knew was that they had food, and moving slowly wasn’t as tiring.

Reynard was no fool; he, too, realized the mistakes he had made.

Sometimes kindness is a sin.

But Lance had no such reservations. He relentlessly pushed the convoy forward, threatening to expel anyone who lagged.

Trying to be sly with him?

Let’s see if you’re tough enough to survive in this wilderness.

Hamlet has no need for the useless!

"Lord Walter, the Lord has returned and has asked you to prepare to go to the town."

"Alright, I understand," Walter said, his expression calm, though he was inwardly astonished.

It’s been almost a month. I didn’t expect him to actually return. I wonder if he even made it to Totnes?

He didn’t dwell on it, quickly gathering his belongings and the account books before heading to the town.

As soon as he entered the town, he slowed his carriage, observing the pedestrians’ reactions and listening to their conversations.

He needed to gauge whether the Lord’s trip had been a success or a failure to tailor his demeanor for the upcoming report and avoid touching a sore spot.

"The Lord is truly formidable, bringing back so many people!"

"That’s nothing! I heard the docks are overflowing with goods."

"You all know nothing! I personally saw a group of pirates being confined to the sanatorium."

"Everybody knows that! I also know that one of those three ships was a pirate ship the Lord snatched!"

"’Snatched’?! If you don’t know how to talk, then don’t say anything! It’s called ’captured’!"

"Right, right, right, captured from the pirates."

...

Hearing their excited chatter and seeing the smiles on their faces, Walter knew the Lord had returned with another great victory.

And somehow, I’m not surprised at all.

Coming back by sea means he definitely went to Totnes.

But what kind of place is Totnes? A place that devours people whole, leaving no trace! He went there empty-handed and came back with two ships full of goods, plus a captured pirate ship. This Lord’s abilities are truly terrifying.

Despite the great victory, it made him even more unsettled, his confidence wavering.

It’s not that there were problems with the farm, nor did I embezzle anything. On the contrary, managing a farm isn’t difficult for me; I’ve handled everything well.

He was just pondering how to submit his resignation to the Lord, how to persuade him to let him go, and how to get back to Ovando.

In the town, only the Lord’s soldiers could escort him to Ovando, but the old soldier he had encountered was as immovable as a rock.

It’s been almost two months. I have no idea what’s happening at home, or with the merchant caravan.

The more he thought about it, the more anxious Walter became, wishing he could fly back to his family immediately.

No, I must leave, no matter what...

The door to the house was open. He didn’t intend to say more, so he grabbed his things and went inside.

But the person he saw upon entering was someone he could never have imagined.

Sitting in the hall, fiddling with some documents, was a figure. The moment Walter saw them, he froze on the spot.

He looked at the person before him—familiar, yet strangely so.

Who is this? How does she look so much like my daughter?

But my daughter has long hair and doesn’t wear men’s clothing.

Besides, she should be in Ovando right now, not here...

Even though Walter vehemently denied it in his mind, some bizarre thoughts couldn’t help but surface.

No way... It can’t be...