Chapter 471 The Farmer and the King
Thunder City, Andean Manor.
It is late summer, and the coolness of the morning blows into the study through the half-open window, carrying the fragrance of marigolds.
Archduke Edward Campbell read his sister's autographed letter again, his handsome eyebrows becoming solemn.
In the letter, Irene described in detail the brutality of the Battle of Twilight City, the horror of the arrival of the Chaos God, and the final judgment that fell from the sky. Of course, she also mentioned the successive arrivals of the King's Palace Steward Sklair and the Holy See Inquisition after the war, and the resulting tension.
The Campbells made great sacrifices to save their compatriots in Dusk Province, and they deserve to be rewarded by the king!
However, the king's lackeys deliberately blurred the concepts of ownership and use rights, slandering the Principality of Campbell for wanting to usurp the king's title, and claimed that this act of confusing right and wrong was creating a breeding ground for chaos. Even the "prophecy" of the great sage was moved out by that guy.
Hah!
Edward sneered.
These guys really dare to speak!
Could it be that Chaos was brought in by reinforcements from the Campbells?
In fact, Edward didn't care about such innocuous accusations. He was not surprised at all that the king would send people to "pick apples". It was just a matter of who took the lead.
The only thing that troubled him was the arrival of the tribunal.
Edward's index finger tapped lightly on the white oak table, and his eyes fell on the huge map of the Kingdom of Lane on the wall.
The Holy See usually does not easily interfere in the disputes within the secular kingdom, and their swords will only be aimed at heresy and chaos.
However, the weight of the title "Grand Magistrate" is too heavy. Usually, it is difficult to see even a baron from the Empire in the Kingdom of Lane. This time, a red man from the Pope's side actually came.
Jimenez's arrival has caused subtle changes in the rules of this chess game. The game that was originally based on strength has now added a weight called "legal principle".
And the tribunals may not be simple.
I am afraid that only the serfs who have never seen a priest several times in their life will think that a murderous devil becomes a saint if he holds a "Book of Holy Words" in his hands.
It was not that there were no priests in the Twilight Province before. It couldn't be that the Campbell people were too greedy and made the Lane people there hungry, right?
"—My lord." A travel-worn messenger knocked on the door respectfully, and then stood at the door of the study, waiting for a response.
"Come in."
Edward recovered his thoughts, picked up the letter he had already prepared from the table, sealed it with wax, and handed it to the messenger who walked into the study.
"Tell Eileen to be cautious and put her own safety first in everything. No matter what happens, the Principality of Campbell will always be her strongest backing."
After a pause, he suppressed his anger and added.
"No one can pretend that nothing happened after slandering my sister. Not even the king's palace steward!"
"Yes, His Majesty the Grand Duke."
He felt the anger in those eyes, the messenger's heart trembled, he took the hot letter with both hands, bowed and quickly withdrew.
After sending away the messenger, Edward's eyes fell on another secret report on the desk compiled and sent by his confidants.
This information mainly mentions the current basic situation of various counts, baronies, towns and villages in Twilight Province.
This includes the approximate population range of each plot, the extent of the impact of the war, whether the soil is suitable for farming, and where the lord has gone, etc.
Theoden wants to default on the debt in the name of holiness, and he, Edward, is not an economical lamp.
He has always liked to be prepared.
If the king does not cooperate, he will go to the earl. If the earl does not cooperate, he will go to the baron. If the family does not cooperate, he will go to the side clan. Whoever cooperates with the Campbell family will be the de jure!
Didn’t that old guy pretending to sleep want to drive away wolves and tigers, and use the fire of chaos to take back the land in the hands of the nobles?
Don’t even think about it!
The sword of the Principality of Campbell will defend the sacred and unquestionable legal principles of the lords of the Dusk Province!
Although the Campbell family is an opponent of the feudal nobles who represent the tradition in their own principality, they may not have to be in a different position in their neighbors' homes.
After reading the information to the end with an expressionless face, Edward had already completed the blueprint of the entire plan in his mind, just like he had originally planned the future of Thunder City.
But to be honest, he was actually a little bored.
Why is it that the Principality of Campbell always wipes the butt of the Devalou family?
They opened up territory for the Kingdom of Lion, suppressed the maze of Thunder County for nearly a thousand years, and guarded the southern seaport for the Kingdom of Lion. However, the king never thanked them, and even regarded the "Light of Praise" as a trouble.
He had never thought about it this way before, but recently he felt more and more that the Devalu family was not worthy of owning such a vast land, and they themselves were the greatest shame to the kingdom!
Perhaps Andes is right. If he wants to solve the current troubles of the Campbell Principality once and for all, he must completely turn the Twilight Province into the Twilight Principality.
As for the trouble in the future—
That will be known later.
At this moment, Edward's eyes fell on the last line of the last page of the information in his hand, and he stayed there.
His confidants specifically mentioned when mentioning the whereabouts of Count Theron Gard that this guy returned to his castle and was suspected of having reached some kind of deal with the Salvation Army.
Originally they planned to talk to the Earl of Cerrone, but when they went to the mansion in Twilight City, the guy had disappeared. When they heard about it, he actually took his family back to the castle.
Edward has heard the name of the "Salvation Army", including the so-called "Saint", and that they received help from the dwarves, and even the Sword Master from Brass Pass stood by their side.
The only thing he didn't expect was that even though the chaos was over, these guys still had influence in the Twilight Province.
Do they think that since they have a fight with Chaos, the Holy See will have to ask them to return to the Holy City to receive their reward?
If nothing else, the name alone is treasonous enough.
"Salvation—Saint——. Haha."
Humbling these two names in a low voice, a hint of imperceptible contempt rose at the corners of Edward's lips.
· A group of rebels and hungry people dare to claim to be "saviors", which is the most ridiculous thing in the world.
Your own refugees have gone to Thunder City to beg for food because of hunger. You still want to save the world?
Hurry up and save yourself first!
Edward despises these lunatics themselves.
However, when his eyes scanned the so-called "New Testament" attached to the secret report, the contempt in his eyes subsided, and instead revealed a glint of interest.
Strictly speaking, his confidants did not really see the teachings. Everything about the New Testament was hidden in the oral tradition of the locals.
There is also a saying that the so-called "New Testament" is not a visible book, but an oracle obtained by "Saint Karen" from Saint Sith.
Kallen told everyone she met that she was just an ordinary nun, born in an inconspicuous village. By chance, she was saved by the gods and awakened the ability to "communicate with the gods". Before that, she was just an ordinary country girl.
According to this statement, everyone can claim to have heard the oracle, and the tribunal would go crazy if they knew about the appointment!
His confidants excerpted a few so-called oracles and wrote them in secret letters. They did not dare to write much content. They only selected some praises for Saint Sis and the pie that the "Son of God" painted for the world.
Ordinary fools will only compare which god draws a bigger pie, but Edward is a smart man and can see the essence through the phenomenon at a glance.
"Is everyone a priest?" Edward chuckled, and there was a rare hint of appreciation in his interested eyes, "There is something."
This is definitely not something that a group of hungry mud-legged people can come up with. Would ordinary people think of snatching the "right to interpret scriptures"?
There must be an expert behind them to guide them!
As any ruler knows, it is not important what is written in the Book of Holy Words, but who holds the power to interpret it.
For thousands of years, the Holy See has always held this power firmly in its hands, and used it to formulate the order of the Second Era!
And now, a village girl actually wants to snatch the "right of interpretation" from the Holy See?
This is no longer daring, it is simply selling your soul to the devil!
However, these people are very smart. They do not hold the banner of hell, but just the banner of Saint Sith.
Edward could not help but begin to re-evaluate this so-called "Salvation Army."
No matter who is standing behind them, as long as they have nothing to do with Chaos, they are not enemies and can even become a useful tool.
At least, we cannot let them be strangled to death by the Inquisition like a bed bug so easily. The saint must continue to live.
While he was deep in thought, a respectful knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.
After getting permission, his servant opened the door and walked in, stood behind him and said respectfully.
"Your Highness, Prince Colin is back - he heard that you were in Thunder City and rushed here immediately, saying that he wanted to apologize for leaving without saying goodbye."
The good news came like a spring breeze, instantly dispelling all the gloom in Edward's heart. A joyful light appeared on his face, he pushed away the chair and stood up.
Hence, give me a pillow if you feel sleepy!
The king had one more card in his hand, and someone immediately handed him two cards. Sure enough, Saint Sith knew clearly in his heart, who was the real piety!
The Principality of Colin may become an ally of the Principality of Campbell.
No—
I should say definitely yes.
He had heard that after His Highness learned that Irene was on the front line, he almost didn’t stop for a moment and hurried over!
If this is not love, then he no longer believes in love!
"Quickly, invite him to the reception room," Edward immediately ordered, with a hint of happiness in his voice, "I'll be there shortly. Before he finished speaking, he shook his head and called to the servant who was about to turn around and leave.
"Forget it, no need. How can you let the distinguished guest wait at the door? You take me over, and I will greet him personally!"
Looking at the energetic Majesty the Grand Duke, the servant's face showed a surprised expression, and then he bowed his head respectfully.
1II
Gods always favor devout children, even if it is not necessarily the Holy Light that favors children.
The Campbell family, which has been pious for thousands of years, finally waited for the "New Testament" and the prince who favored them after annihilating the devil.
At the same time, the farmers in Dusk Province finally waited for the sun to clear up after the rain.
They truly believed in Saint Sith, just as the sheep believed in the crutch in the hands of the shepherd to guide them to rich pastures.
They are truly pious, unlike some king who "sees the essence through phenomena"
A few days have passed since the "angel came", everything seems to have returned to calm, and the chaos that once tortured this land seems to have never come.
Although the Governor's Mansion in Dusk City is still turbulent, the dark cloud only hangs over the Governor's Mansion.
Ordinary people can’t even feel its existence.
· For example, Burton, who lives in Griffin Cliff Territory, is one of them. He neither sees nor cares. No matter who becomes the lord, his village will be just as poor.
The happiest moment in his life was when he was twenty years old when he picked up a good piece of unwanted wood from the forest and replaced the collapsed beam at home.
He still remembered the way his wife and son looked at him, as if they were looking at a great hero.
Because that memory was so profound, he even remembered the last thing.
At that time, he was sitting on the edge of the threshold to rest, his wife was drying laundry in the yard, and his five-year-old son was running around chasing a butterfly.
The sun is warm, and the air is filled with the fragrance of grass and earth.
He then fell asleep until his son chuckled and shook him awake, saying that Uncle Ross, the blacksmith next door, was looking for him and had a batch of goods to be delivered to the castle.
He is not a knight or aristocrat, he is just a horseman pulling goods. His lifelong pursuit is actually such an ordinary and warm afternoon.
It's a pity that -
——
The peace he longed for suddenly disappeared from one day to the next.
Even if the beauty of the past showed signs of returning, he could not sit on the edge of the threshold and rest leisurely like before.
Because once he closes his eyes, the moment of tranquility will be shattered by a bloody nightmare.
Cries of killing filled the ground, and women and children cried in despair. Behind the thick smoke, there is also the smiling face of "Executioner" Aka, twisted in the firelight.
That madman said he wanted to kill all the followers of Saint Sith, but he killed not only priests and nuns, but also everyone who did not accompany him in his madness was tortured by him.
At that time, Burton was delivering goods to the lord, and even his people and goods were forcibly taken away by Acre's troops. He was changed from the lord's groom to the green forest army's groom.
That's pretty lucky.
After all, riding a horse is a skill, as is feeding a horse. The Green Forest Army still needs him, but there is no way to cut him off with a knife.
Those soldiers had suffered a lot. They were obviously dragged to work by the lord just like him, but they were chopped into pieces and stuffed into the bloody altar. One of the guys was a fellow countryman of his.
Not only are they cruel to their enemies, these apostles of chaos are even crueler to their own people!
He saw with his own eyes Akka's men hanging three green turbans who were trying to escape on a tree, talking and laughing as they discussed some torture methods that he had never heard of, such as inserting tree bark between fingernails and roasting lamb legs over a slow fire. This was simply not something that humans could think of!
Every day in the army, Burton lived in fear. He only dared to lower his head and feed the horse, for fear of being stared at by the madmen.
Finally one day, a man carrying a big sword stood up, followed by a group of people holding another flag.
Seeing that the arrogant army was completely defeated, Burton immediately took advantage of the chaos to escape before he even had time to feel the joy of victory.
He threw away the turban on his head and everything else that might reveal his identity, and only carried the supplies he picked up randomly.
Like a frightened mouse, he hid in the devastated land of the earldom, and did not dare to return to his village until the dust settled.
His wife barely recognized him when he showed up on the doorstep, disheveled.
It wasn't until he called her name in a hoarse voice that the woman, as thin as a reed stick, burst into earth-shattering cries and rushed up to hug him tightly.
He remembered that she only said one sentence.
"It's good that you are still alive."
The afternoon when the family hugged each other and cried was the second most precious time in Burton's life.
From now on, he told everyone he met that he encountered a green bandit on the way to deliver goods to the lord and almost lost his life.
Thanks to the blessing of Saint Sis, he ran to the mountains and has been hiding in the mountains since then. He did not dare to go home until recently.
Burton dared not say that he had also worn that damn headscarf. The memory was like a dirty brand stuck on his ass, even if he was forced to bear it.
The villagers accepted his statement. After all, everyone knew this honest man and did not think about it at all.
Everything seems to have returned to calm. Except for Burton who occasionally wakes up from nightmares, no one disturbs him.
However, the peaceful days did not last long.
Some terrible rumors began to circulate in the village, saying that a group of black-robed troops had entered the Griffin Cliff Territory. The black-robed warriors were silent and efficient, showing no mercy, like machines that did not spit out steam.
They claim to be the "Inquisition" from the Holy City, directly responsible to the Pope, and are arresting remnants related to the "Green Turban" everywhere.
The intrusion of Chaos has ended, and these guys who are good at fighting have emerged.
Burton swallowed his sleep foam and instinctively wanted to avoid this topic. However, he always felt that it was related to him, so he couldn't help but get close to it.
..—These guys call themselves the Tribunal, but they never judge, they only kill. "
The carpenter who came back from the town lowered his voice and his face was full of horror, as if he had seen the undead.
"The blacksmith from the next village was hanged from a tree at the entrance of the village just because he repaired a few knives for those green turbans!"
"When did this happen?!"
"Are you talking about knife repair? It seems like a year or two ago, those guys were not so crazy, and they would even give you money when buying things."
A farmer couldn't help but shrink his neck and whisper tremblingly.
h "I suspect that the guy was dragged to make up the count. I seem to have heard someone say that there are many people in the next village, so we need to kill more."
h "How much is enough for this?"
h "I don't know, but I heard there is a number."
“That’s nonsense?! Are they crazy for killing people on the king’s land?!” Burton couldn’t help but interjected, but he didn’t notice that he was trembling so much that he almost bit his lip.
Everyone looked at each other, and finally a young man spoke tremblingly and whispered softly.
ifier |
He returned home and became suspicious. He dared not go out all day long, and did not even dare to look at the sun, as if the light would burn him. His wife did not understand his overreaction, and thought he was haunted by a ghost. It's a pity that there is no priest in this village, nor in the town next door. I don't know who to turn to if I want to pray.
The nightmares are getting more and more frequent.
At first it was when he was dozing off during the day, but later Burton was awakened by nightmares all night long.
He repeatedly told himself that he was just a horseman and had never killed anyone, let alone robbed anything.
He did not rob it, but he did help the bandits move it, even if he was forced to do so.
Burton could swear that he was never like those madmen who were so mad that they clapped their hands and cheered when they saw the blood splattered, regardless of whether they should die or not.
Perhaps Saint Sis heard his confession.
But he did not forgive him. One sunny afternoon, Burton was teaching his nine-year-old son how to repair the beams at home, and while talking, he talked about his experience in raising horses.
He spoke very messily, and his son also looked confused when he heard it. His mind had already gone to the friends outside the window.
Burton himself is also very anxious. He should say one thing at a time that educating children is like raising horses, which requires patience.
However, there is always a sense of urgency in his heart, as if a voice in the dark is reminding him that many things will be too late if not taught now.
This room does not need any heroes, but it does need a rafter.
His home also needs it.
And just when he was talking about which uncle to go to if the pot at home was broken. The half-open wooden door opened with a bang.
Burton was startled, and before he could shout "It's not me", he was splashed in the face by the flying sawdust and fell on his son. Or maybe it was not blocking him, but out of some kind of father's instinct, he wanted to protect his child.
Several judges in black robes stood at the door like gods of death, leading several soldiers in armor. The dazzling sunlight stretched their shadows.
The leader held a piece of rough pulp paper with a long list of neatly written names on it. Perhaps even the owners of these names knew for the first time how their names were originally written.
The first time their names were recorded in writing was on the Inquisition's list. How these names were listed is not important to the person who wrote them.
Their torture methods are not as primitive and barbaric as the Green Forest Army, but their methods are much more, and every tool is made of steel.
"Burton?"
The magistrate headed by him spoke coldly, his voice sounding like two pieces of iron rubbing against each other.
Burton was speechless and just covered his son's eyes tightly, regardless of the latter's panic and struggle, with despair written on his face, "No! You have found the wrong person! He is a good man!" Burton's wife He screamed and rushed forward, hugged the leg of a soldier tightly, and cried to these men in black robes, "He is just an honest and responsible groom! Our family has been working for Count Weavert all our lives, and we have never done anything!"
The soldiers were unmoved.
Two reed sticks couldn't stop the tall and powerful men, but with just one kick, they took the obstructive woman to the corner.
"Go away! It's none of your business." The soldier scolded him with an angry face, and the fist holding the hilt of his sword rattled.
It’s okay not to mention Earl Wivot.
When he thought of the loyal general, he wanted to kill all these guys who sold their souls to Chaos!
The magistrate did not speak, but looked at the family in the room indifferently, and they would soon go to the next family.
If the cancer is not completely cleaned out, tragedies will only happen again and again. This is not only for the tranquility of the holy city, but also for the people living in this distant place.
Burton's whole body was cold, and his blood seemed to solidify in an instant.
He had rehearsed the excuses countless times in his mind, but at this moment it was like being blocked by a stone, stuck in his throat and unable to squeeze out a single word.
Faced with that absolute violence, language has lost its meaning.
His hands were roughly cut behind his back, his wrists were locked coldly, and he was dragged out of the door like an animal.
He did not struggle or cry out. Under the extreme fear, his whole body was as stiff as wood.
With the corner of his eye, he saw his son's frightened face and the skinny woman in the corner. Her lips opened and closed as if silently mourning, and her eyes were dull.
Perhaps, he should say goodbye.
The evening sun seemed to be more dazzling than the afternoon, dyeing the overgrown land blood red, or maybe it was blood in the first place.
Fortunately, the magistrate also felt that he was of little value, or perhaps there were already enough people here.
The executioners did not torture him the way the Green Forest Army tortured their own people. A single gunshot ended his sins and humiliation, which may or may not have occurred.
The whole night, the village was quiet. It was not until the people from the tribunal left that they dared to collect the bodies of those people.
The so-called collection of corpses is nothing more than loading the pile of corpses into a car and taking them to a nearby ravine to dump them.
Some people cried on their relatives' bodies, while others whispered, "Those pastors are so kind, and they even saved their souls."
Farmers who died usually don't get this treatment. Occasionally, priests will pass by with the caravan, but there are still very few who can attract the Holy Light.
Even if they can attract the Holy Light, not every priest will pray for the dead for free like Karen did.
The villagers who came back with the carts were talking in whispers.
Some people were lucky to have escaped, and some began to thank the Holy Light for not sparing a bad person. It was like the pigs in the pigsty exchanging weight loss tips. They were proud of their integrity and were not afraid of the shadow. Only those who sold their souls to chaos would fear the Holy Light.
There were some people who felt that they had killed the wrong person, but were afraid that the court would come to their homes tomorrow, so they silently kept their mouths shut.
The purpose of the earthquake was achieved.
However, no one noticed that the child waiting at the door for his father to come home did not cry, and the light of hatred was burning in his young eyes.
Poor little Burton still didn't learn how to choose a stallion or mend the beams, but he remembered the faces.
And their clothes.
He swore—
If one day, he could become the sword-wielding hero his father called him, he would definitely kill all the guys who rushed into his house!