Our Family Has Fallen
Chapter 70: Wolf Faction Camp_1

Chapter 70: Chapter 70: Wolf Faction Camp_1

"HEH HEH!" Lance couldn’t help but let out a joyful exclamation.

He had been called over when the captain awoke and had not had the chance to deal with the rest of the head wolf’s belongings.

Now, upon searching, he indeed found quite a few good items, and not just one.

The first thing he held in his hand was a pendant made from a tuft of wolf’s tail, which emanated the unique aura reserved for Extraordinary items.

It must have been brought from their tribe because its design revealed a tribal style.

As for its uses—

Lance was not sure. He found that only equipment obtained from Sacrifices could be used directly by him, while the Extraordinary items inherent to this world seemed to have some barrier or, rather, condition for use.

Without giving it much thought, he turned his attention to a leather scroll, covered in tribal script and odd drawings.

A common person would really struggle to understand this because most people were illiterate, let alone able to read scripts outside of the mainstream language.

Fortunately, Lance was trained in archaeology. Although he couldn’t understand everything, he roughly grasped what it was about.

The scroll actually described the secret technique of how their tribe would make contracts with the Wolf Spirit.

Each person would grow up alongside a white wolf from a young age. Once the wolf grew up, they would personally kill the white wolf as a Sacrifice to the Wolf God and, through a series of complex rituals and such, have the wolf’s power transferred to themselves.

A common person could only gain a modest enhancement and enter a state akin to berserk, but the side effects were severe, leading to a prolonged period of weakness.

During the ritual, only the sufficiently strong could gain the approval of the Wolf God, endure the entry of the Wolf God into their body, and such individuals were known as the "head wolf." They were typically the tribe’s powerful leaders, possessing strength beyond ordinary people, and only they could lead the tribe.

At the same time, some items could also receive the Wolf God’s blessing and carry special effects.

It seems their Wolf God was actually the tribal totem they worshipped. This entity likely didn’t possess the power of a true god, which is why the system referred to it as a Wolf Spirit.

The scroll contained much content, and Lance had not translated most of it in his rushed glance. Anyway, from the look of the drawings, he guessed it involved a series of bloody rituals, somewhat reminiscent of Sacrifices to an Evil God.

Now wasn’t the time for a thorough reading. Lance hurled everything into the Exhibition Room to be dealt with when there was time.

The corpses of over a hundred people signified a vast amount of weapons and gear, filling the Exhibition Room to the brim. It was then that Lance realized that space was limited.

However, he had already pocketed most of the useful items. The rest were piled together and hidden in the dense woods, leaving only cannons lying isolated at the original site.

"Let’s go. We’ll take a look at the Wolf Faction’s camp. They fought to the death for a reason," he said.

After dealing with the situation here, Lance focused on the depths of the dense forest. The Barbarians could have chosen to retreat and avoid the battle, but they had opted to fight fiercely; there had to be a reason.

"And what about him?"

"Who would dare come near now?"

With that one sentence, they understood, and the group moved towards the camp.

With the entire Wolf Faction dead, nothing would hinder them. Soon, they arrived at the site.

There stood an ancient tree, lush and leafy. Many desiccated hands hung from its withered branches.

With the Wolf Faction gone, no one knew the exact story of these hands. Lance guessed these must be part of their customs, offering the hands of enemies to the Wolf God as proof of bravery or something of the sort.

These hands were also evidence of their raids on Hamlet, leaving one to wonder how many had died at their hands.

"TCH," Lance cursed softly, then quickened his pace.

Approaching, one could see an encampment under the trees, made up of various tents and wooden fences.

Amidst the simplicity, a ruggedness shone through. No sooner had the group approached than they could hear the howling of wolves, instantly tensing up the team.

Lance wasn’t sure what was inside. He made several gestures, signaling to search each dwelling one by one.

Soon they discovered why the Wolf Faction hadn’t chosen to flee.

Within the camp, they found a large tent set apart from the rest, where seven seriously ill Barbarians lay on beds, barely clinging to life.

If they had chosen to run, these tribe members would likely have been abandoned.

When faced with these burdens, they didn’t make the decisive choice to abandon them like the captain did but chose to commit their entire force to a fight to the death against the artillery.

Such was the cohesion among the tribe members, an unconditional trust between them. Even the lead wolf, as the chief, could take a blade for a junior member, and the junior could block the enemy to ensure the survival of the lead wolf.

Now Lance understood. The artillery was destined to lose. Indeed, if he hadn’t intervened, the lead wolf might have already returned in victory.

But reality is always cruel. Despite his respect, an enemy is still an enemy.

"They’re clearly infected. Don’t come in here, and don’t touch anything. Stay where the air circulates," he said.

Lance held his breath as he entered alone with a single blade, performing the throat-slitting Sacrifice in one smooth motion, swiftly sparing them from the disease’s torment.

Although the pathogens were eliminated, Lance was acutely aware of the medical standards of this world. The consequences of the disease were too severe for him to relax, so he promptly set the tent ablaze.

Let the flames purify it all.

"Stay here and make sure the fire doesn’t spread. I’ll check the other areas," he ordered.

After making sure there were no survivors, Lance began his scavenging once more.

He quickly found what was clearly the finest tent and, upon searching it, uncovered a treasure chest filled with Coins and some precious items.

However, no matter how he looked at it, their desperate looting seemed insignificant compared to the wealth the Mayor could amass just by swinging his scythe.

Although the Mayor was still hanging in the square.

Money is a fine thing, but after witnessing it a few times, he lost the initial excitement. He just collected it before continuing his search.

Soon his gaze settled on a wolf head carving that was being worshiped.

To be honest, it was quite crude—no, it should be said that it had a certain rough beauty.

Because to him, the item glowed faintly, meaning it was yet another Extraordinary artifact.

Lance felt somewhat numb. The Wolf Faction’s resources were too abundant! It was rare to find Extraordinary items, and yet here were two appearing at once.

Holding it in his hand, he could tell it was an old artifact. As for its purpose...

Using his archaeological knowledge, Lance surmised it might serve as a way for these exiled tribespeople to maintain their faith or communicate with their Wolf God while earning a living far away from their tribe.

To Lance, it was merely a harmless idol.

He tossed it casually into the Exhibition Room, to be studied at leisure later.

After turning the tent inside out and ensuring nothing was left, Lance left and made his way to the roughly constructed animal pen.

The wolf howls he had heard earlier had come from here; as Lance approached, he heard a warning WHINE.