When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

Chapter 617: Kill them all... (4k chapter)

The gloomy sky was hanging low, and the rain was falling densely in the yard of the knight's main residence, making the muddy ground even more slippery.

A group of villagers gathered here, talking in low voices in twos and threes, with deep anxiety and fear in their expressions.

Knight Adrian stood on the balcony on the second floor, looking down coldly at the crowd in the yard. He held the black envelope in his hand, and a trace of annoyance flashed across his frown.

"A threatening letter?" He turned to Henderson standing beside him and asked angrily, "Who allowed you to do this? You are just adding fuel to the fire by tampering with my plan!"

Henderson wiped the sweat from his forehead and whispered in defense: "Maybe it's to scare the mountain people even more, so that they know that the only way out is to rely on you."

"Stupid! What I want is a surprise attack!" Adrian snorted coldly and slammed the envelope heavily on the railing. "Since it has been done, we can only make the best of it. But remember, this is the last time."

"I understand, I understand." Henderson nodded repeatedly, and the sweat from his forehead mixed with the rain dripped down his cheeks.

After all, they are all from the same village, and every family has several relatives. If it is discovered later that it was his son who brought people here, it will be a disaster.

After much deliberation, Henderson finally left a glimmer of hope.

After knocking Henderson, Adrian walked down the stairs and came to the yard wearing a hooded cloak.

His appearance immediately attracted the attention of the villagers. The noisy discussions gradually died down and all eyes were focused on him.

"Fellow villagers." Adrian's voice was low and powerful. He raised his hand and motioned for everyone to be quiet. "You have all read the letter just now. I can tell you that the resistance army is indeed approaching here. They are powerful and it is difficult for us to resist."

Hearing this, the villagers suddenly became even more frightened, and some women even sobbed softly.

"But you don't have to be afraid." Adrian's eyes swept across every face and continued, "I have arranged for people to reinforce the wall and mobilized armed farmers for defense. As long as everyone stays in the main house, you will be safe!"

There were whispers among the crowd, some nodded in agreement, some looked skeptical, but most people just stood there in a daze, obviously not knowing how to make a decision.

At this moment, a voice suddenly sounded: "We can't keep guarding like this forever, can we?"

Knight Adrian immediately said righteously: "If the reinforcements have not arrived, then I am afraid I will have to negotiate with them. They are just angered by the Holy Father Society, and their intentions are good.

As long as we can save our lives and have enough food for the winter, everything else is secondary. I will give him whatever he wants. Even if they want me to join them, I will do my best to help him!"

The armed peasants began to applaud and cheer continuously, and some public book peasants followed suit.

However, amid the applause, a dissenting voice was so harsh: "There are still some people outside the yard. Brother Ansel is sick and still in the church. What should we do?"

"Yes, and our yarn and wool are hidden in the church."

"If the rebels take away the wool and the money, then we've spun for nothing, right?"

"What time is it? Are you still thinking about spinning? That's enough." A skinny armed farmer glared, "Everyone should take care of yourselves first!"

Henderson saw that the situation was somewhat shaky, so he immediately stepped forward and raised his voice in a hoarse voice: "Everyone! The Knight has already arranged a defense plan for us. As long as we stay here, we will be absolutely safe."

He pointed at several worried villagers and said sternly, "What happens in the church is none of our business! If you run out and die now, don't blame me for not warning you."

The crowd that was originally noisy suddenly became quiet, and the sound of rain could be clearly heard in the yard.

The villagers looked at each other, their eyes full of hesitation and struggle. Some lowered their heads and looked at the muddy ground; some clenched the corners of their clothes, as if they wanted to say something, but ultimately did not open their mouths.

"But..." Finally, an elderly farmer spoke in a hoarse and low voice, "Brother Ansel has done so much for us. Now he is sick and alone in the church. Do we really ignore him?"

This sentence seemed to hit everyone's soft spot.

The villagers who had originally lowered their heads raised their eyes one after another, with an indescribable emotion in their eyes.

"That's easy for you to say!" The skinny armed peasant sneered disdainfully. He pointed at the old peasant and said, "The rebels want the monk's life! If we run to save him, we will end up losing ourselves!"

These words made the villagers lower their heads again. The glimmer of hope that had just been ignited seemed to be extinguished by the cold rain.

"And the wool and yarn!" another middle-aged farmer couldn't help saying, "That's our life-saving money for the winter. If they're all stolen, how are we going to live?"

Henderson said coldly: "How much is that little bit of wool worth? If we lose our lives, what's the use of money? Let's think it over. The Knight has promised to protect our lives. That's enough!"

"But...but Brother Ansel..." the young farmer muttered, but he no longer had the courage to continue. His voice was soon drowned out by the silence of the villagers.

The raindrops hit the cloak and eaves, making a ticking sound. The sound made the air even more depressing and it made people feel breathless.

Gradually, the villagers' emotions calmed down, or rather, it was a helpless calmness.

They no longer argued or refuted, but just stood there mechanically, letting the cold wind and rain hit their faces.

Henderson looked around and said coldly, "It's good that you understand. Staying here is the best protection for yourself and your family."

I don't know who started moving first, but soon after, the villagers retreated to the eaves and the walls one after another.

They lowered their heads and walked with heavy and stiff steps, like a group of birds looking for a safe haven in the cold winter.

No one mentioned the church or Brother Ansel anymore, as if the monk who had risked his life for them had been forced to be buried deep in their memory.

The rain is getting heavier.

Adrian, standing in the middle of the yard, watched all this and breathed a sigh of relief.

He glanced back at Henderson and whispered, "Now that things have come to this, don't let these people cause any more trouble."

"I understand, I understand." With a flattering smile on his face, Henderson nodded repeatedly.

Unfortunately, he was interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps as soon as he finished speaking.

"Look, look." A young mountain boy suddenly pointed at the branches outside the yard and shouted.

Outside the wooden wall, in the falling rain, Lalor, wearing a leather vest, was climbing up the tree trunk with difficulty.

His clothes had long been soaked by the rain, and mud had formed streaks on his face. Only his eyes were as bright as two burning flames in the rain.

Was he preparing to jump into the yard to hide? But what would happen to his daughter? The villagers who heard the noise raised their heads.

However, as soon as Lalor opened his mouth, the mountain people lowered their heads involuntarily.

"Brother Bryson has sent people to bypass the main road and request reinforcements from the higher-level order. They will arrive by evening at the latest!" Lalor shouted into the yard while clinging to the branches.

"The rebels have less than 100 soldiers. It's raining, so their knights can't do anything. We'll set up trenches and barricades around the church, and we'll be able to hold out until reinforcements arrive.

I would like to ask everyone to come out and go to the country church to defend their homes and the Constitution together! ”

The villagers in the yard were silent. No one responded to him. The rain hit the ground, making a thumping sound like dull drumbeats.

Without waiting for the villagers to reply, Henderson rushed out first: "You are crazy. If you stay outside, you will be implicated by those two monks."

"No one? We don't need too many people, just one hundred adult men." Lalor ignored him and continued to shout at the crowd. "You are possessed by the devil, but we are not." Henderson shouted at Lalor in the tree, "I tell you, no one will follow you today."

"No one? Really no one?" There was even a hint of despair in Lalor's voice.

In this dead silence, a voice finally came from the villagers who hung their heads.

"But why? Isn't it good for us to stay here?"

"Yes, this is the fault of the Holy Father Church itself. It has nothing to do with us."

The villagers' voices were hesitant and hoarse, but in these seemingly weak inquiries, Lalor seemed to hear something else.

"Brother Ansel has already said that someone is behind the incident in Mason Parish, and the Holy Father will guarantee to give you a reasonable explanation." He tried to speak loudly.

The villagers looked at each other, and there was some hesitation in their eyes. Henderson immediately stopped them: "He is in cahoots with the Holy Fathers. Of course he said that. Why should we believe him?"

"I have a fifteen-year-old child. If Brother Ansel hadn't braved the storm to get medicine, she would have died." Hugging the tree in a panic, Lalor's almost broken roar was clearly heard by everyone.

"She managed to survive with great difficulty. I hope she lives in a country where monks are willing to go out in the wind and rain to get medicine for the mountain people, rather than a country where priests only use the sacraments to make money!"

"Would you trust a man who works so hard for us that he can't even stand up straight, or a man who whips us and forces us to pay grain?"

Read the error-free version at 69shuba! 6=9+shu_ba is the first to publish this novel.

“Would you trust someone who is willing to pay for labor, or someone who forces us to work for free?”

"If the mountain people abandon such a good man, then I ask you, who will come to help the poor and desperate mountain people?"

The mountain people who had originally lowered their heads raised their heads one by one. The misty rain wet Lalor's hair, but his face was as red as fire.

The firelight in the yard illuminated his face, just like the white light reflected from the cross that night.

"If you think that a person who harvests food for us, finds ways to make money for us, and cares about our lives from the bottom of his heart is a bad person, then you should stay here."

"You will stay here if you see the man who toiled for you, lay sick for you, and worked for your welfare fall into the hands of robbers and bandits."

Amid the shouts and curses of Henderson and other armed farmers, Lalor stepped on the branches, grabbed the branches with his right hand, and actually stood up on the shaking tree.

His eyes widened and he growled like a wild animal: "Stay here, stay here, and wait for the storm to pass like a coward."

"Open the door, the world from now on will be the same as before!"

"If you don't finish harvesting your wheat, others will snatch it up. If you don't finish threshing your millet, others will steal it. No one will uphold justice and help you!"

"You are short of money and in famine. People are starving to death. No one is supporting you with cash in one hand and silver in the other!"

"When your children get sick, everyone will just stand by and watch. No one will go get medicine for you anymore!"

"After your children are made into wine, others will only lament their bad luck, and no one will seek justice for you!"

Before anyone knew it, the only sounds left between the leaden clouds and the pale yellow manor were the rain and Lalor's roar.

"If you don't want to open the door and see the world like this, then follow me."

He was breathing heavily, and even his sad and pitying eyes swept over the farmers in the yard who were looking up with their heads raised. He jumped off the branch without saying a word and disappeared behind the wall.

The cold wind with raindrops blew on the farmers' clothes. No one spoke, and no one moved.

They stared at the swaying branches, as if Lalor were still there.

But beyond the branches, it seemed as if the country church in the distance was engulfed in flames.

The literary but never arrogant young monk and the cowardly but kind middle-aged monk wailed in the flames and turned into charred bones.

Those precious wools, those yarns that were spun with great difficulty, were licked by the flames and turned into flying catkins and black ashes.

Not only Henderson, but even Adrian Knight felt that the atmosphere was wrong.

Under the pressure of Adrian's eyes, Henderson had to stand up, cleared his throat and shouted: "Do you really believe what he said? They have only been here for a few months. It's not just us. People in the neighboring Mason Parish have been here for decades. Don't you believe them?"

There was no response, only the crackling noise of rain hitting the roof.

It was just a middle-aged farmer wearing a straw hat who sighed, "This is the first time I've seen a monk who is willing to apologize to a farmer."

The originally densely packed team became agitated. Old Laffer shook off his wife's hand, suddenly walked out of the crowd, and headed towards the door alone.

Behind him was his wife crying silently and little Laffer protecting his mother.

"Old Laffer!" Henderson rushed forward angrily, stretched out his hand to block him, his face full of anger, "Your brother has gone insane, and you have too?"

"I owed him a favor, and he returned the spinning wheel to me."

Pushing Henderson's hand away, old Laffer walked out of the yard in front of the main house.

Following old Laffer, several farmers came out. Henderson asked them the same questions, but got a variety of answers.

"The Scythe brothers threshed grain for my family for free, so I have to return the favor."

"They help me buy and sell yarn for free, so I have to go there anyway."

Henderson was choked and speechless. His face flushed. He turned around and looked at the idlers and armed farmers standing at the edge of the main house: "Stop them! What are you doing standing there?"

But these idle men and armed peasants just stood there, no one moved.

They exchanged glances with each other. No one wanted to take the risk. These people were the most shrewd and the best at reading people's expressions.

Given this kind of atmosphere and this kind of situation, who would dare to stop it?
Helplessly, Henderson could only look at Adrian helplessly.

Adrian's eyes changed inexplicably from astonishment to anger. After a long while, he let out a breath: "Let them go, they will die!"

One led two, two led three, and finally the farmers left the yard in groups.

Their steps were slow but unhesitating, like a turbulent yet quiet stream flowing towards an unknown direction.

In the wind and rain, no one spoke, no one looked back.

No matter how Henderson tried to dissuade or stop them, he couldn't stop them from moving silently.

The autumn wind blew across Adrian's frowned brows and dark face. He looked at the empty courtyard and didn't know what to say.

At this time, in the knight's main house, apart from the armed farmers, there were only about a hundred old, weak, sick and disabled people and the adult farmers who stayed to take care of them.

The rain soaked Adrian's cloak, and his whispers sounded particularly cold in the wind and rain: "Kill them all... that's fine."

(End of this chapter)