Rebirth of the Viking King

These two people were Alfred and Francis who had not been seen for a long time in Versailles.

In that night when the air was filled with the smell of blood, Alfred knew that he could not stay in the city for long. When he slipped out of the High Sparrow's henhouse and came to the carriage carrying the body, trying to find a weapon, a thick hand suddenly pulled him into the carriage.

Taking a closer look, it was Father Francis hiding under Wenzov's body.

"Your Highness, please don't move!"

"The whole city has been put under martial law! You will only be caught if you walk around casually. Only by hiding in a pile of corpses like me can you have a chance of survival!" After saying this, the old dean casually took out a knife from the wound of the corpse next to him. A mass of bloody organs and tissue was thrown onto Alfred's body.

"Master Francis, how did you recognize me after my appearance has changed like this?!"

"Haha, the whole city is under martial law. Apart from a few of us dead ghosts, which family of civilians would choose to take to the streets at this time?!"

"Stop talking, they are coming back"

These were the last words spoken by the old dean and Alfred.

As more and more bodies piled up on top of the two of them, Alfred understood. When he lost his weapon and the power of the anesthetic had not dissipated, his combat power was almost zero.

Disguising themselves as corpses and lying on the corpse truck is indeed the best chance for the two of them to escape.

The two of them pretended to be dead in the carriage silently for almost two days. For two days, Alfred endured hunger, thirst, and the increasingly strong smell of corpses.

The two old men driving the carriage were no match for him in terms of combat prowess. However, as they walked along the official road, if they were seen by other merchants while killing people, Alfred would still inevitably fall into the hands of the sect master.

It wasn't until they reached the edge of Crocodile Canyon and were about to be pushed into the canyon that they finally crawled out of the pile of corpses.

After 2 days, the power of the anesthetic has completely dissipated. Using his divine power to ride the wind, he grabbed two mourners one by one.

A moment later, two long screams came from the Crocodile Canyon.

At the top of the canyon, Alfred and Father Francis were the only two people left.

"Lord Francis, what's your next plan?"

The old dean did not answer his words, but first opened the packages carried by the two mourners. Perhaps because the metabolism of the elderly is slower, these two people did not carry any food with them. In addition to the companion documents signed by Broken Silver and Jinlinwei, there were only two pieces of flint used for making fires in the wild.

Alfred also felt dizzy after being hungry for two days.

But the predicament at hand did not faze him.

Grabbing the corpse of a two-meter-tall Golden Scale Guard, he twisted it hard and removed the thighs of the corpse.

The body that had been left for two days was already slightly decomposed. He stretched out his hand to tear off the rotten flesh on the broken leg, then found a large stone and smashed it down hard, breaking the root of the leg bone and creating a sharp spike.

Then he picked up the suggested bone knife and looked at the fat crocodile in the canyon.

In just ten minutes, Alfred climbed up from the bottom of the canyon carrying a thick crocodile short leg. Reverend Francis lit up the campfire, and the two of them ate some barbecue to fill their stomachs, and then found a puddle to wash away the body odor.

When night falls, hang your wet clothes to dry by the campfire. Like lonely ghosts, the two finally experienced the feeling of "alive" again.

"Priest Francis, what should we do next?"

Staring at the burning campfire with sharp eyes, the old teacher didn't answer for a long time. His brain was working rapidly, integrating all the known information.

(The fire-passing priest "Abi Jean" and I are as close as brothers, and he will definitely not harm me!)

(The whole transaction was carried out under his contact. I took out the Jade Seal of the Kingdom, and the 'Bishop of Fire' stationed in Paris showed up. With the professionalism of the Vulcan Cult, they will not renege on this matter. .

Otherwise, after this news gets out, it will be like smearing feces on your face! From now on, the ‘Vulcan Cult’ will never receive any valuable artifacts again! )

(Then the question is, who betrayed us?!)

Father Francis was far less important than Alfred in the eyes of the "High Sparrow". Therefore, when he entered the bar to drink, no anesthetic was put into his glass.

Walking all the way to the old city where civilians gathered, the "fire gang" who accepted him were a group of taxis and laborers, specifically responsible for the post workers running the line from Versailles to the English Channel.

The old dean is an expert at making a living by talking.

He doesn't know any martial arts.

Don't talk about people, he has never even killed a chicken in his life. The sense of crisis deep in his bones made him not hide in the house of the inn worker, but instead hid in an idle cargo carriage in the stable.

The dry and hard carriage planks with wooden thorns were not comfortable to sleep on, but in a strange and crisis-filled city, it could provide him with a necessary buffer.

It is precisely because of this hint of vigilance. When the Golden Scale Guard kicked open the door and rushed into the room, he was able to slip out through the back door and escape.

**

After thinking for a long time, the old dean patted his cheek hard, and first took out a shriveled money bag.

"Your Highness, we currently have 3 gorse leaves, 7 imperial flower silver coins, and 27 copper leaves on hand. This is all the gold and silver we got from searching these corpses."

"I'm so sorry, I can't give you any of this gold and silver. Duke Loki is still in Paris, and our hiding place has been leaked. My intuition tells me that there is a traitor within the Vulcan Cult!"

"I need to return to Paris, find the Fire Bishop myself, and ask what all this is about!"

When he said these words, the old dean could feel his beating heart and the slightly trembling corners of his mouth.

He seemed to be back again when he was hiding on the top of the big tree, overlooking Lindisfar Abbey.

He knew that it would be dangerous to climb into the monastery along the secret passage, but at the same time he also understood that as long as he could enter, there would be great gains.

It's the same now.

What others see as a crisis is, in Francis's view, a rare opportunity.

What Duke Loki needs most at this time is allies.

If the "Vulcan Cult" is really divided, if he can win "Microa" into his own camp, this will be a big step forward for the Vikings.

The Vulcan Cult has long maintained a mild animosity toward Loki. All the Firebringers in the Firebringing Shrine at Storm's End disappeared collectively without offending anyone's interests, although they had no clear evidence pointing all this to Loki.

But this cauldron has been hanging over his head.

It is undeniable that the Arab Empire was able to divide the world into three parts with the Eastern Tang Dynasty and the Byzantine Kingdom. This group of intelligence dealers provided a powerful push behind the scenes.

No one would turn down such a group of allies.

A strong Viking man with an upright mind who can only wield a big ax is simply not qualified for underground work. If someone needs to do this, that person can only be himself.

He has firmly stood on Loki's boat.

As long as there is a glimmer of hope, he will try to rescue him successfully.