When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

Chapter 556: Battle of Black Lettuce Village (Part )

On the outskirts of Feiliu Fort, the imperial order was issued to build the main camp.

Behind the towering wooden walls are crowded sheds and wooden houses.

In the crowded woodshed, flames licked the medicine jars and the blacksmiths' furnaces spewed out billowing black smoke, turning their faces black and white.

On the narrow muddy road, the skinny and pale "slaves" walked numbly along the eaves.

Before winter, they were public farmers or even armed farmers working in the fields.

In an instant, a group of knights rushed into villages and towns, robbed them of all their property, and then branded them as slaves.

The farmers, with slave marks branded on the back of their necks, carried sacks on their backs, their slender calves exposed under their torn linen trousers.

With every step they took, their knees trembled like butterflies fluttering their wings.

Although there were fewer slaves in the empire, slavery had never been abolished legally.

Even before the city of Branding started out as a trader in slaves, it was through the ceramics trade that it gained its fortune.

Otherwise, why is it called Brand City instead of Inscription City?
The sound of hurried horse hooves was heard at the gate of the camp, and seven or eight knights with feathers on their round felt hats rushed across the narrow road towards the monastery in the center.

Many craftsmen and slaves secretly looked towards the castle. About an hour later, more than a dozen teams of hundreds of leather-armored soldiers appeared.

They picked and scoured the crowd, and under the guidance of the old townspeople, selected hunters and guides who were familiar with the nearby terrain.

They selected from these people again, leaving about three or five people, and the soldiers led them into the castle.

A blacksmith pretended to wipe the sweat off his face, but his eyes under his hairy arms were fixed on the sergeant who entered the monastery.

He winked at the apprentices, and one of the apprentices, under the supervisor's scolding, rushed to the toilet, holding his stomach.

The establishment of toilets was not because the knights had become better or had a change of heart, but because there had been a plague.

The apprentice did not stay in the toilet for long and hurried back to the anvil, because if he stayed there too long the supervisor would kick the door.

But at lunch time, someone picked up a stone from the toilet.

About ten minutes later, one of the guides who had just been released from the castle, under the guidance of a craftsman, arrived at a thatched house on the outskirts of the camp.

In the thatched house, Valentyl, dressed as a refugee, was chewing black bread softened with cold water.

"Have you decided on the time, my brothers?" Putting down the black bread, Valen Taylor walked forward and hugged the two of them.

"Confirmed." Before the guide could speak, the person who led him here said, "Call back the knights who are having fun in the tavern in the city this afternoon, and then set out tomorrow morning.

Because we have to wait for the infantry, we will arrive at Suimi Town around noon tomorrow."

"Has the marching route been determined?"

"Three guides, with Mr. Bobcat Tucker as the main guide."

At this time, Valentyl learned the identity and name of the haggard man: "So, Mr. Tucker, right? You can control the knights' marching route?"

"I can't guarantee it. I only have the power to make suggestions, not the power to make decisions." Tucker, nicknamed Bobcat, had a numb voice without a trace of emotion.

He was thin and emaciated, and wore a ragged, thin linen shirt, but judging from his teeth alone, he was at least an armed peasant or a small landowner.

"Which route do you think these knights will take?" Valentyl pulled out a wrinkled sheepskin map from under the floor.

Bobcat Tucker glanced at him, dipped his finger into the dust on his face, and drew a curved line on the map.

Valen Taylor frowned: "It's better for them not to go through Perfors Manor. The terrain is too open. Can they go through Black Lettuce Village?"

"I don't have a good reason." Mountain Cat Tak shook his head with a wooden face, "This manor has more people and more supplies."

Valentyl thought for a moment: "What if the marching route is leaked and the people of Perfors Manor escape with the supplies?" "Then our three guides will be whipped or even hanged." Bobcat Tucker stretched out his hand and drew another route on the map, "But they will go through Black Lettuce Village."

"Okay, then I'll think of another way." Valen Taylor nodded and was about to pick up the map to continue studying it, but he heard Bobcat Tucker speak again.

"No need, let's do it this way." Bobcat Tucker grabbed Valentyl's hand, "Time it right so they don't have time to go back and find a new guide. Then I'll have at least a one-third chance of surviving."

Valentyl opened his mouth, and countless words of dissuasion finally turned into: "Okay, I wish you luck, we will send someone to observe you from a distance, and we have to agree on a few gestures and signals."

"You can see so far..." Bobcat Tucker laughed at himself halfway through, "Of course, you are the witch's subordinates, it would be strange if you don't have this method."

Valentyl pursed his lips unhappily: "Don't be fooled by those priests. Lady Jeanne and Lady Catherine are both saints, not witches."

"what!"

The guide was a stubborn man. He lowered his head without saying a word, but the mockery in his eyes was evident.

Valen Taylor looked at the craftsman who led him over. The man shrugged and looked helpless.

In Hotam County, not everyone is as devout as the Saint Sun Righteous Army.

Even within the Holy Sun Army or the Salvation Army, there are many people who pretend to be trustworthy. Valentyl cannot force everyone to do so.

"We will win this battle. Just be patient and wait until the Salvation Army defeats the Imperial Order Company."

After agreeing on the gesture and finalizing the process, Valentyl saw that it was almost noon, so he excused himself and prepared to leave.

He had to hide in the manure truck to leave, otherwise he would not be able to get out if he missed the time.

"Valentel, we all know your reputation." The skinny man in a thin shirt raised his head, revealing his sunken eye sockets and dark circles. "Tell me, will it be different?"

"What would be different?" Putting down his hat, Valentinel looked at the man blankly.

Bobcat Tucker lowered his head numbly: "Will it be different when the Saviors come? We signed an indenture and owed a huge debt. Needless to say, you know how valuable our skills are.

We, the slave craftsmen, are like golden chickens. With just a little water and grain, we can produce precious gold. Wouldn't your holy grandson be tempted?"

Are you moved?

Valen Taylor was stunned by the question. Although he had been in spiritual communication with the saint's grandson for a long time, he had never met him in person.

Although he had a good reputation for kindness, there were many bishops who claimed to be kind.

It is not easy to gather so many skilled craftsmen together. From the Pope's perspective, Valentyl couldn't help but be tempted.

But he immediately calmed down: "Compared to the nobles, the Pope is also a farmer."

"I guess I have to risk my life to help you, but you won't even tell me the truth? For example, how much can we reduce our military service? Can you let us see our relatives?"

Valentyl quickly promised: "You will no longer have to serve in the army. Your life will be completely different. You can walk freely on the land and will not be bullied by the knights at will..."

Bobcat Tucker sneered.

"You do not believe?"

"I believe you, but not them. These superiors are all the same, waving the sacred banner to make profits for themselves." The skinny mountain cat patted the dust off his body, "Those who beat down the superiors just want to be the superiors themselves, and they just changed their name."

"Your Majesty the Holy Grandson is different."

Valen Taylor finished speaking, but it seemed unconvincing and he wanted to add a few more words, but Bobcat Tucker didn't let him finish and stood up.

"I've been absent from work for so long, I'm going to be whipped, I'm going back."

Dragging his tired body to the door, Bobcat Tucker turned around and said one last sentence: "God bless you, I hope you can beat the Command Company. You probably won't be worse than them."

(End of this chapter)