When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

Chapter 811 This is a trap

The night was deep, and noisy shouts and noise gradually spread in the darkness.

More and more families lit candles and looked out of the windows to look.

Even though it was already past two in the morning, I couldn't stop their burning gazes.

Many people even violated the curfew and secretly ran to watch the excitement or support the march.

At this time, the Xibing Mansion, located about 100 meters away from the Uffizi Palace, was quite quiet.

The sound of chaotic footsteps echoed in the empty corridor.

With his hands tied behind his back by two Chekas, Klovin's feet were dragging on the ground.

The cast iron shackles cut into his flesh, and he struggled angrily, trying to break free from the guards escorting him, but the alchemical potion he was forced into made it difficult for him to do so.

At this time, he was still cursing Pasrick as a traitor.

Since he failed to inform Meliati, Clowen didn't understand what had happened, so he went to find Pasrick to help convey the message.

Although Pasrick has always been in the Saint Sun camp, he was at least a member of Meliati's team at the beginning.

But he didn't expect that not only did Paslik reject him, but he was captured by the Cheka as soon as he left the house and was brought here with a hood on his head.

After walking through this corridor, Clowen was escorted to his final destination, a simple bedroom.

The candlelight reflected on the faces of everyone in the room. It turned out that Horn and a group of core figures of the Saint Sun Sect had been waiting here for a long time.

The heavy wooden door closed behind him, and as the bolt fell, Klowen raised his head.

Horn sat behind his desk, his face as calm as water.

Pasrick on the side also stood like a bell, but his expression was particularly complicated.

Klowen glared at Horn, his eyes full of anger and unwillingness. He gritted his teeth and cursed: "Horn, you liar who digs shit! Do you know what you are doing?

You once vowed to maintain the unity and survival of the Thousand River Valley, but now you want to liquidate your allies!"

Horn stood up slowly, his shadow stretched out in the candlelight, like a motionless mountain.

His voice was neither hurried nor slow, but it seemed that it could not be disobeyed: "If Qianhe Valley wants to survive, the nobility cannot exist."

"Bullshit! If it weren't for you, what happened tonight wouldn't have happened. I now understand it!" Klowin lunged forward, but was pulled back by Chika beside him and hit on the mouth with a stick.

He spat a mouthful of blood on the ground: "Such a despicable method, aren't you afraid that future generations will accuse you of this? Are you worthy of the title of Saint Grandson?"

"If someone must bear the blame, so what if it's me? I am willing to bear the blame for the country." Horn looked at Klown calmly, "Besides, if the common people have no opinion on the Grand Duke, I can't incite them even if I want to."

"Bullshit, it stinks! You are just an ambitious person..."

Seeing that Clowen was still cursing stubbornly, Horn waved his hand and asked the guards to take him away.

With eyes wide open, Klown struggled and roared: "You will regret it! Do you think you can save the Thousand River Valley by doing this? It will only push the nobles to the side of the Leia people!"

Horn's expression did not change, as if these words could not touch his heart at all.

The guard dragged Klowin away, and the room fell silent for a moment.

Pasrick looked at Horn, the always firm and wise old man, and finally showed rare temptation and hesitation.

"You swore once that you would never make Carrie sad."

Horn's expression finally showed a slight fluctuation. He was silent for a moment, then he sighed softly and said, "This is exactly what I least want to do. Perhaps it is because I am soft-hearted that the situation has become what it is now."

"At least, don't imprison her. If someone else imprisoned her, she would just admit defeat, but if it was you...she would go crazy."

"She will have to face it eventually." Horn's words were even colder and sharper. "Do you want her to indulge in false power, or wake up?"

Pasrick was silent. He lowered his head and thought for a long time, but in the end he didn't say anything more.

After lingering at the door for a while, he walked to the desk and gently put down a leather-bound diary.

"This is the diary of Meliati's father."

Horn was startled and looked up at Pasrick's face, trying to see something from it.

But Pasrick just shook his head and turned away.

Picking up the diary, Horn flipped through a few pages, but his pupils shrank instantly.

The fingertips slowly slide across the yellowed pages of the book, and the flickering candlelight sways the densely packed handwritten words.

He turned the pages of the book faster and faster.

[Shimotsuki, my wife gave birth to a stillborn baby...]

[…If the angels are real, then what the An party said is not true? ]

[…Inheriting the blood of witches and saints, how absurd is that? ]

[May the gods forgive my sins...]

After an unknown amount of time, when the candle flame had burned down a lot, Horn closed his notebook, but he couldn't help but murmured softly: "No wonder... No wonder Lulos, as a witch, could give birth to a witch..."

Looking at the notebook, Horn didn't know what to say or think for a moment, he just stared blankly.

But he didn't lose himself for long before he was awakened by a knock on the door.

"Your Majesty." René poked half of his head out from behind the door. "The time is ripe, why don't we take action?"

Coming back to his senses, Horn slowly raised his head, his gaze passing through the night outside the window to the direction of Meliati's room.

He hesitated for a moment, and finally gave the order: "Go ahead."

…………

"Ta-ta-ta-ta-"

The military boots made a neat sound as they stepped on the stone road.

From the four directions outside the city and the canal, groups of guards rushed into the city holding torches and lanterns.

A large number of Chekas and gendarmes poured out of the alleys: "Curfew! Curfew!"

"The Cheka is investigating. Get out of the way!"

The Guards quickly blocked all the main streets of Rapid City. The nobles' private soldiers, the rogues who took the opportunity to cause trouble, and the citizens and representatives of various factions were all surrounded.

The chaos in the streets was quickly suppressed with great efficiency.

The team advanced along the main roads and canals, and each advance caused the two sides on the street to be cut or dispersed.

A noble private soldier brandished a sword and tried to break through the blockade and escape, but was pierced in the shoulder by a spear from the guards and fell to the ground with a scream.

Two guards monks stepped forward and pressed down hard on his back with their knees.

"Suppress the riot! No one is allowed to resist!" The officer riding on a warhorse and wielding a saber shouted like thunder.

In the center of the chaos, Nathaniel was pinned to the ground by two soldiers and his wrists were quickly handcuffed.

He was face down, forced to grit his teeth, but the fear and anger in his eyes had not yet gone out: "What are you doing? They are the rebels!"

But the only response he got was the cold sound of armor colliding.

Lying on the snow pile, the passion that had previously filled his chest gradually subsided as he watched the Guards, Cheka and Military Police focusing on capturing the nobles.

Nathaniel's heart suddenly turned cold and her body began to tremble.

He finally reacted.

"A trap!" the nobles nearby shouted, "It's a trap!"

…………

Outside the Uffizi, the arrested deputies stood in dismay behind Horn.

Their faces were covered in mud and handprints, and their hair was like a chicken coop, with feathers or branches stuck in it.

But the expressions on their faces, without exception, were anger, fear and horror.

Horn stood at the gate of the palace, overlooking the thousands of citizens who had not yet dispersed in the square.

The torches gathered together like a huge bonfire. They looked at Horn with anger, confusion, anxiety, but full of expectation.

Horn slowly raised his hand, signaling everyone to be quiet.

The noisy voices gradually died down, and everyone's eyes were focused on him.

Horn looked around at everyone with a steady gaze: "I already know what happened, and I have heard your voices."

Some people in the crowd wanted to shout, but were suppressed by Horn's momentum and had to hold back.

"The constitution is not established for the selfish interests of one person or one faction, but for all people." His voice was loud and clear, reaching everyone's ears. "The constitutional protection movement is to safeguard the constitution, not to smash and loot."

The crowd began to stir, and many people looked confused.

Isn't this an action to support His Majesty Horn? Did they misunderstand His Majesty's intention?

"I have heard your voices, but no matter what, the election must be carried out in accordance with the Basic Law, because the will of the Holy Father is revealed through this. Do you understand?" Horn stated his attitude. "Well, don't you want to petition? Where is the petition?"

The citizens looked at each other and pushed forward a representative.

The representative of the coopers came forward tremblingly, holding a petition in his hand.

"Your Majesty..." He raised the petition above his head, his voice hoarse, "This is our petition, please take a look."

Walking down the stairs, in the expectant eyes of everyone, Horn took it with both hands without hesitation and said solemnly: "We will do it at tomorrow's meeting..."

Before Horn could finish his words, the crowd seemed to have had a switch pressed, erupting in deafening cheers.

(End of this chapter)