When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

Chapter 615 Moonlight on the Cross

Henderson said he asked Bryson to greet him, but in fact he asked a few villagers to put Bryson under house arrest.

He was held by the shoulders by armed peasants and was not even allowed to change his clothes. He was forcibly taken to a thatched cottage at the entrance of the village that was used to keep watch against robbers, where he was left to sit with the door open.

Passersby coming and going could see the uneasy Brother Bryson through the door, and the cloudy but empty road at the intersection.

Every time this happens, someone will ask, and after a whisper, some will show hesitation, some will not believe it, and more will be afraid and angry.

News of the riot and martial law in Mason Parish spread quickly throughout the estate.

Fear, doubt, anger, panic... countless emotions were swirling above the manor, mixing with the purple rain clouds, spreading darkness little by little across the entire sky.

Until the evening, the smoke rose from the chimneys and connected to the bottom of the black clouds. All the emotions of the people were like shattered clouds, and rain fell along the lightning from the tears in the clouds.

The rain illuminated by lightning twisted like silver between heaven and earth, as if Antonwan, the god of thunder in ancient Norn mythology, was waving a whip and making the thatched roof sway wildly.

In a thatched cottage at the entrance of the village, an armed farmer who was also a carpenter was struggling to install wooden windows on the cottage.

He turned his head and looked at Bryson who was huddled in front of the brazier and three or five villagers who were too stubborn to believe that Ansel would summon an army.

"Don't wait, Brother Bryson." The carpenter armed farmer smiled sarcastically, "Your 'saint monk' will not come back. You are different from him. You are one of us, a mountain dweller.

Knight Adrian has prepared ginger soup and hot towels for you in the main house. If you need any, just let us know and we will take you there."

Bryson wrapped his clothes tightly and said, "No need."

"Brother Bryson, we are old friends. When my son was learning to write, I gave you a calendar." The carpenter stoked the fire pot sincerely and said, "The wind and rain are getting stronger and stronger. If it continues like this, even this hut may be blown down.

That monk Ansel obviously got the news and went to ask for help under the pretext of getting medicine. Which monk would care about an ugly daughter of a mountain dweller with low blood? Stop deceiving yourself and go."

"no need."

The moment he said "No thanks", Bryson felt a little regretful. What he was thinking in his heart was "Okay then", but the moment he said it, for some reason it became something else.

In the wind and rain, Bryson could no longer hear the spinning sounds in every household. Perhaps it was covered by the sound of rain, or perhaps it would never be heard again.

What a pity.

Looking at the dark red brazier, he himself didn't know what he was insisting on.

Bryson actually disliked Ansel at first, after all, did his fake conscience have to be so ostentatious?

But, I don’t know since when, Ansel has become Bryson’s pillar. He is obviously the older one, but he has to rely on Ansel for everything.

Could it be that I have become so dependent that I have even learned to flaunt my false conscience? I should have agreed earlier.

"Brother Bryson." The carpenter moved his ears and pointed at the rumbling sound outside. "Did you hear that sound? It's a mudslide or mountain torrent somewhere in the mountain.

Brother Ansel probably won't be back, why don't you come with me to the knight's house to drink some ginger soup."

Bryson was wrapped in a blanket, rocking back and forth, mumbling something with his head down. The carpenter didn't hear clearly, so he had to ask again: "What did you say? Do you want to go with us?"

"No thanks." Screaming "Okay then" in his heart, Bryson still looked down at the brazier and repeated, "I said, no thanks!"

"Tsk." The carpenter spat with a grim look on his face, then turned around and walked out of the hut with the rest of the disappointed villagers.

Looking at their backs in the rain and the creaking sound of the wooden frame of the hut, Bryson smiled bitterly. He really learned a bad habit.

With his last remaining hope, he stood by the door frame again. The rain instantly wet his face, but he still tried his best to look into the wind and rain.

and many more……

Bryson blinked, what did he see?
In the doomsday-like wind and rain, in the black fog that obscured the view, there was actually a dark thing that was constantly wriggling.

“Ansel, Ansel!” Bryson almost screamed, pointing incoherently at the man in a raincoat walking slowly forward, “It’s Ansel, look, Ansel is back!”

Everyone who had originally left the hut at the village entrance rushed back, even the sarcastic carpenter.

They stood in the rain, stunned and straight, watching the man swaying back and forth in the drifting rainstorm, but still moving forward firmly.

Bryson didn't know why his throat suddenly choked up, and he couldn't say a word. Two hot things flowed out of his eyes. Ansel's donkey had been blown away by the wind, and his face was covered with mud. He was soaked by the rain, and even one of his shoes was lost. There were several wood chips stuck on the soles of his feet.

Ansel was the only one there in the rainy night, and there was no sign of any army.

Bryson didn't even bother with his hat, he strode over and supported the staggering Ansel: "Why are you back at this time?"

"What if you don't come back? You have to come back someday, cough cough cough." Ansel was choked by the rain and coughed.

Holding Ansel, Bryson walked towards the thatched cottage at the village head where a fire was lit. "Don't you know what happened in Mason Parish?"

"Yes, seven or eight knights including several earls have written to us, asking for a response from the head monk of the Mason Diocese." Ansel stumbled on the slippery mud. "Bishop Madeleine has dismissed the head monk and taken over our side. I have reported everything."

"Then why did you come back?" Bryson was also drenched by the heavy rain because he was supporting Ansel. He said with difficulty, "Even Knight Adrian has jointly declared martial law."

"This is my parish. Where else can I go if I don't come back? Besides, I have something important to do." Thinking of this, Ansel, who was originally drowsy, suddenly raised his head. He reluctantly pointed to the village and said, "Let's go to Lalor's house first."

"Going to Lalor's? You should take a rest."

"Let's go to Lalor's house first. I'll save this little bit of time. I can't wait even a second."

Bryson had no choice but to support Ansel and walk towards Lalor's home.

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This time, the villagers and armed farmers no longer restricted Bryson's actions. They did not speak, but just surrounded Ansel and Bryson like stars surrounding the moon.

When Lalor opened the door, he could hardly recognize the man who was rolling in the mud.

It was not until he could see his face clearly with the help of the light in the room that Lalor was shocked: "Brother Ansel, what happened to you? You...are like this now..."

Before Lalor could finish his slurred words, Ansel pulled out a cloth bag from his arms, a clean cloth bag.

Ansel carefully spread the cloth bag on the table, revealing three small porcelain bottles with wooden corks.

Unlike the dirty thing on it, this small porcelain bottle was clean and still had some of Ansel's body temperature.

Sitting on the floor of Lalor's house, Ansel gasped, "I made the allicin with the distiller in the church. Feed it to your daughter, one bottle a day, and her illness will get better."

"You...I..." Lalor looked at the porcelain bottle in his hand, and for a moment he didn't know what to say.

Ansel couldn't help but curse, "What are you standing there for? Come on, feed him!"

He stared at Ansel blankly for several times, but did not cry. He just closed his mouth and bowed deeply to Ansel, then turned around and poured the golden liquid into his daughter's mouth.

It has to be said that the germs in this world may not have been abused by all kinds of messy antibiotics.

Even allicin, which is relatively less effective than penicillin, is surprisingly effective, especially in dealing with gastrointestinal bacteria.

After taking only half a bottle, less than a minute later, the sallow color on Lalor's daughter's face gradually faded and her breathing became steady.

Only when the little girl's face gradually turned red did Ansel heave a sigh of relief and stand up.

However, as soon as he stood up, his legs went weak and he almost fell to the ground.

This time, he rushed to the church to collect garlic and started distilling it. He also wrote a report and an impeachment letter. He then returned with the allicin in the heavy rain and mountain torrents, and hardly slept during the trip.

Fortunately, Bryson supported him in advance, so Ansel did not fall.

After saying hello to Lalor, Ansel walked out the door with the help of Bryson.

But somehow, a whole circle of people were standing in the yard, including old Laffer from next door and two armed farmers.

Ansel originally wanted to ask what you were looking at, but he was too tired, so he just spoke in a halting manner: "The Township Association has declared martial law, and the wool this month may have to be postponed. Everyone, please be patient, I will try my best to adjust."

After saying this, he no longer had the strength to walk towards the village church, supported by Bryson.

In the heavy rain, the villagers formed three layers inside and outside the room, but they still did not disperse, just staring at Ansel's departing back.

I don’t know if it was an illusion or what, but the rain still hurt when it hit my face, but the storm seemed to have calmed down. Even the cross of the village church in the rainy night seemed to be reflecting the moonlight on the clouds.

(End of this chapter)