Our family is in decline

"Are you a blacksmith?"

Lance was on the side responsible for reviewing those townspeople with special professions or abilities. At this time, he was looking at the white-bearded man in front of him who was eating vegetable porridge in a somewhat strange way.

From his understanding, blacksmiths in this world are all skilled workers. Whether they are agricultural tools or weapons, the demand from manufacturing to maintenance is very high. There is no way they have fallen to where they are today~

He looked sad when talking about the blacksmith, and then told Lance the cause and effect.

Before the bandits arrived, it was exactly what Lance said. He was the only blacksmith in the town, and sometimes orders from farmers would be queued for a month, not to mention the bulk of weapons manufacturing and maintenance.

Until the bandits arrived, the mayor placed a large order with him, including various weapons and equipment to arm the militia.

Originally, he thought he was going to make a lot of money, so he worked day and night. However, after handing over several batches of equipment, the bandits came and blew up his blacksmith shop with one shot. If he hadn't happened to not be in the shop at that time, everyone would have killed him. Gone.

Although he escaped the bandit's butcher knife, the store was gone, and the mayor refused to pay him because he had not completed the order. His desire to rebuild the blacksmith shop was completely shattered, and he became a homeless man.

"Even if you don't count the remaining weapons, the previous ones are still worth a lot of money."

"What do you mean by that?" Lance heard something in his words.

"That's the money the mayor had before..." The blacksmith held the bowl with a longing look on his face.

The blacksmith's intention is simple, he just wants Lance to repay the debt for the former mayor's order, but is he that kind of person?

It's fine as long as I don't cause trouble for you, why are you asking me to pay the debt to someone else?

"Did you build this?"

Lance did not answer him directly, but took out the dagger he had captured on the old road and handed it over.

The blacksmith picked it up and looked at it, then boasted to himself, "Yes, I made it, it's strong and durable."

It could be heard that he was very confident in his craftsmanship, but Lance just said a sentence slowly, which scared him so much that he almost fell to his knees.

"This dagger was found from the person who assassinated me. You provided weapons for the mayor and the others. Are you their accomplice?"

"Hey!" The blacksmith was stunned for a moment, and with a clang, the dagger fell from his hand. He couldn't care anymore and hurriedly waved his arms to deny it. "There are too many weapons sold from me, and it has nothing to do with me, Lord."

"Of course I won't embarrass you if you just sell it to others, but why did you hand over the equipment to him without paying him? It's hard to explain if you're not his accomplice~" Lance looked at the blacksmith with cold eyes.

You fucking blackmailed him, do you really think he is a good person?

"Give it! Give it!" The blacksmith reacted and quickly overturned his previous statement, "I paid for the weapons ordered by the mayor."

"Then you just blackmailed me~"

Lance's words once again forced him into a desperate situation. The blacksmith felt that he didn't have enough brain power and could only say some words of begging for mercy.

"Lord, I really don't know anything, please let me go~"

"What do you mean? Do you think I will wrongly accuse you?"

"No, no, no!" The blacksmith really didn't even have tears to cry. He might as well have cut himself with a knife.

"Okay." Seeing that he was almost done, Lance stopped pushing, "I still believe in you."

The words "Huu~" were like a drowning man grabbing a lifebuoy. The blacksmith finally breathed a sigh of relief, and most of the pressure squeezing his chest was relieved.

"The mayor has done many evil things. I hope you won't be like him, otherwise I will have no choice but to take action."

"Yes, yes!" The blacksmith nodded quickly, not daring to complain at all about the lord's words.

"Go get another bowl. I will give you priority in rebuilding the town." After saying that, he patted his shoulder and sent him away.

"Thank you, sir..."

Lance watched the blacksmith retreat without much expression on his face.

It's not that he is reluctant to part with the money, but whether the money is spent meaningfully.

No one knows what the mayor has done and how much debt he owes. If he admits the blacksmith's debt today, what about the others?

Therefore, this head cannot be opened, and his energy cannot be wasted in debts that have no beginning or end.

But Lance couldn't just ignore the debt, because there was only one blacksmith in the town, and whether he was building or repairing, he needed the blacksmith's ability.

So he needed the blacksmith to be willing to give up, and in the end he had to smile and thank Lance for giving him a bowl of porridge.

Was the blacksmith at fault?

Really not?

It's just that when his interests conflict with Lance's, the result is already obvious.

…………

When the situation in the town became stable, Lance left the veteran to rest while he rushed to the agreed location.

"How is it going?"

"As the lord predicted, there were people who wanted to go to the farm to report the news, but they were stopped by us, and they were inside." Disma took over the words, and it could be seen that he was very impressed by Lance's prophetic operation. , accurately knowing that there are farmers among the townspeople.

"Go and have a look."

Lance didn't talk nonsense, and Disma and the others immediately took him to the woods where he was hiding on the roadside. At a glance, they saw a man hanging from a tree. He was probably a boy of eleven or twelve years old. He just lived. It makes him look thin and haggard, almost like a skinny monkey.

"Put him down."

The boy was brought to Lance, and he looked very scared, because he also saw the scene in the square. He was the mayor, but in the hands of this man, he was like a fat pig waiting to be slaughtered.

"Do you know who I am?"

"Lord Lord..."

"What's your name?" Lance didn't rush to start his plan, but brought the topic to Little John.

"I don't have a name because my father's name is John, so they all call me Little John."

"Where are your family members? How did they end up in the hands of the farmer?"

"My mother and brother were killed by bandits..."

Lance probably understood this man's situation. He and his father were the only ones in the family who survived. Later, because there was no food, his father had no choice but to sell the land and himself to the farmer, and no one wanted him because he was too young. If it weren't for the grain, If the shop hired a handyman and gave him just a mouthful of food, he would have starved to death.

"Then you hate bandits?"

"Hate!" A child of Little John's age would not hide his emotions at all, and would show everything on his face.

"Then you hate the mayor and the farmer?"

At this time, he seemed a little sluggish, obviously he still didn't understand the impact of these two on his life.

"It was the farmer who made your father sell his life and sell his land. If it weren't for him, you would have your own land, and you would have food to eat every day, instead of what you do now."

"It's all them?"

"That's right, it's because of him that you can't eat. They are just like bandits."

Lance explained the reason to him in the simplest words, and a few simple sentences aroused his emotions.

If the bandits were the direct cause, then the mayor and the farmer were accomplices. If they had not inflated the price of food, the townspeople would not have sold themselves just for a bite to eat.

"And I came here to fight the bandits. I will protect you. I will make sure you have enough to eat. Who are you helping now?"