Crusade against the Pope

Chapter 369: Thunder in Early Summer

The rain is coming and the wind is all over the building.

The entire Cardia Military Region was in an extremely unstable state during the spring, and everyone knew that something big was coming.

Therefore, whether it was the nobles at the top, the stewards in the middle, or the serfs at the bottom, they all started talking about it.

The topics they discussed were somewhat different due to the differences in information they were exposed to.

The nobles were discussing how to resist the army of the Komnenos brothers. Everyone was restless and absent-minded. Only heroes like Ioannis were calm and confident, which infected other nobles.

It was also under the leadership of Ioannis that these nobles began to gather their private soldiers and draw personnel from their respective estates to train an army.

The butlers had nothing much to say. As the lackeys of the nobles, they shared the same fate as the nobles and could only unconditionally support the decisions of their superiors.

Even though it would affect the spring ploughing, they still dispatched people to the city. After all, even if the spring ploughing failed, it would only starve a few serfs to death.

But if the nobles above lose power, they will be in trouble.

Even though there were rumors among them that the Paul sect, which had disappeared, had revived, they had not seen any hard evidence, so they continued to conscript men from the manor.

The lower-class peasants or serfs complained bitterly about the behavior of their stewards.

They are not very concerned about the victory or defeat of the war, compared to the impact that will occur in the long future.

They are short-sighted and only care about their own land and whether they can complete the spring plowing work normally.

So what if the nobles lost? Don’t the new Komnenos brothers need serfs to farm the land?
Since your life is unlikely to be in danger, you don't need to worry too much.

On the contrary, if spring plowing cannot be completed, then when the autumn harvest comes, famine will be inevitable.

At this critical moment, the housekeepers who went out to conscript men without any care were extremely hateful.

Even though many families begged their housekeepers, hoping that they would not take away the only able-bodied laborer in the family, all they got in return was a beating, or in other words, a bribe.

Moreover, it was not just the steward, in fact even the Monastery of St. Barsanofius, a church system, that did not choose to gain support by supporting the peasants at this juncture.

Instead, he took the initiative to stand up and publicize the necessity of defending Trebizond.

Even the serfs who cultivated the land for the monastery could not escape the fate of being conscripted.

To be honest, such a large-scale conscription of men should have been used to assemble a large army, but the result was not very good.

Instead, it aroused the anger of the peasant community and provided fertile ground for the spread of Pauline thought.

Time and again, the heretical movement that had been hovering over the empire's sky solidified again and turned into raindrops that fell on the soil.

But this time, it's different from the past because Garys is here.

In Trebizond in late May, the rain came suddenly and unexpectedly.

Just now, the sun was shining brightly on the earth, and the wild roses in the mountains were blooming. The rich fragrance of the flowers spread in the warm wind, as if the entire Cardia Military Region was sleeping in a soft dream of early summer, completely defenseless.

But before three o'clock, the heat began to rise from the ground, like the earth's last breath.

The sky then became silent, the sea breeze died down, the birds in the forest fell silent, the wild beasts disappeared, and the only thing left between heaven and earth was the tension of holding one's breath and waiting.

Dark clouds rolled in from the southeast sky, pressing down along the old road of the Caucasus Pass.

In the distant mountains and deep valleys, a thunder rumbled, dull and long. It was the gods beating drums to summon the heavenly army.

The second sound followed immediately after, sudden and violent, the hammer of the army-breaking hammer slammed on the dome, shaking every wheat seedling between the city wall and the field to the ground. Rain, without any prelude, suddenly poured down from the sky, like a celestial river that had been filled with anger for thousands of years, overturned by a pair of hands.

This is not rain, it is a punishment, a cry, and the wrath of the Lord used to wake up the sleeping mortals.

It was also at this time that Gellis wore a gray woolen cloak with his head uncovered, letting the rain drip down his hair and forehead.

Behind him followed a dozen Paulician believers and silent Paladins.

They had come out of the wrinkled hills of Asia Minor and were now entering the nobles' estates.

Before he even got close to the village, Gailis heard cries that tore through the thunder. There were women wailing, old men praying, and people screaming, "Lord! Kill that son of a bitch!"

The sound was so tragic, mixed with the sound of whipping and people pleading.

Gailis walked closer and saw the scene clearly. At the entrance of the village in the muddy water, a steward riding on a skinny horse was waving a wet straw rope.

He had a grim expression on his face, and was wrapped in an oilcloth cloak. The rope in his hand was like a hunting lasso, strangling several villagers who had fallen in the mud.

He tightened the reins, letting the tail of the rope drag the people's necks. Those people struggled in the mud like dead fish, their faces buried in the mud and water, motionless.

Gellis stood in the rain and said only one word: "Come down."

The sound was extremely light, but it was particularly clear amid the thunder, like an iron hammer hitting iron felt.

The butler was stunned, looking confused and at a loss.

He opened his mouth and wanted to say something, but he didn't have time to say anything.

At that moment, the sky flashed again.

A dazzling white lightning tore through the clouds and broke through the curtain, revealing the cold face of Garys.

Then, after a moment's wait, the thunder roared.

It was at this moment that Garys moved.

His figure tore through the rain curtain, and the cloak he was wearing flew up from the ground and turned into a phantom.

He was running so fast that the air exploded, mud and water splashed everywhere, and horses neighed in fear.

At some point the sword in his hand had been unsheathed, and a cold light flashed.

The straw rope broke.

Heads flew up.

The head, with a look of fear on its face, spun in the air. The rain washed away the bloodstains, and it finally fell into the mud, splashing a wave of unwillingness.

When the head rolled to Gellis' feet, he turned around and slowly glanced at the villagers.

The men whose necks were strangled by straw ropes were now kneeling in the mud, with rain streaming down their faces, and it was hard to tell whether it was water or tears.

Further away, there were people standing under a dilapidated eaves, children curled up in their mother's arms, and old people standing trembling behind the threshold, they opened their mouths but did not say a word.

At this moment, the entire village was silent, and even the rain did not dare to fall too loudly for fear of disturbing Gailis.

Garys just looked at them quietly, without words, without anger, and without accusations.

(End of this chapter)