Chapter 134 This is Qianhe Valley, you are the ones who should get out!

Looking at Casti walking away, Horn couldn't help but laugh.

"Mr. Horn, would you like to continue eating?" asked the guard at the side.

"Let's go to the nearest pub... right here, not to the rich area."

Horn and others walked through the houses near the river and came to the narrow alleys that extended in all directions.

The original busy and lively atmosphere is much less.

In the dark corners and under the straw mats on the roadside, emaciated beggars and refugees were lying or standing.

When they see someone dressed in fancy clothes, they rush up to him and beg for a few coppers or a job.

That was just the good part. In the short walk from the main road to the tavern, Horn had already witnessed two thefts and a robbery.

Tramps and beggars swarmed over the victims of theft or robbery like leeches, snatching their purses.

Fortunately, Horn was surrounded by servants and four armored guards. He looked like someone you couldn't afford to mess with.

Homeless people are not stupid, they dare not do business that will lose money.

"Were there always so many homeless people here?" Horn asked a guard from the new camp.

"That's not the case. There were some before, but not many, and they were basically laborers, and they were quite well behaved."

Horn understood immediately.

In order to utilize water resources, most workshops are built near rivers.

The severe floods in the summer destroyed a large number of infrastructure and workshops, and the workshop owners either went bankrupt or chose to reduce costs and increase efficiency.

The original labor positions shrank sharply, and the hoarding of goods by the merchant nobles prevented cheap grain from the coast from entering the Thousand River Valley market, causing food prices to skyrocket.

A large number of refugees have gathered here, but they cannot find jobs. The low-income subsidies in the low-income areas are not enough to feed themselves, and those who come late cannot find jobs but cannot leave.

In order to survive, you can only steal everywhere.

I pushed the door open and entered a tavern, where scattered laborers and low-level craftsmen were sitting.

There were five or six of the seven or eight tables occupied, and there was no seat at the counter. There were also a few people standing and drinking in a hurry.

Although they still drank heartily, the cold beer and cream soup at their hands had turned into bitter wine and pea soup.

In addition to cheese and bread, the pub menu only had five dishes: meatloaf, vegetable stew, cream soup, pea soup, and fried eggs.

"Two plates of meatloaf, a pot of pea soup, four pounds of wheat bread, a portion of cabbage stew, a dish of cheese, and six glasses of cold beer."

While waiting for the food, Horn pretended to take a nap leaning back in his chair, but the guests' discussions could not stop entering his ears.

"Have you heard the news?" a craftsman said mysteriously.

"what news?"

"The Empire has decided to take over the entire Thousand River Valley according to ancient laws, and then drive all the people of the Thousand River Valley back to their hometowns."

Even though they were talking about a secret, the craftsman spoke so loudly that he wished everyone in the tavern knew about it.

"Go back to your hometown? You mean, you mean..." The civilian lowered his voice, "You mean, the Flesh and Blood Royal Court?"

"In the eyes of the Empire, is there anywhere else for our hometown?"

This may seem ridiculous, but there is precedent.

At that time, more than a dozen Thousand Valley knights were dissatisfied with the ruling of the Imperial Court, and personally led hundreds of soldiers to attack the Metropolitan Cathedral, seeking an explanation.

The result was that the knights were hanged by the church, and the hundreds of soldiers who followed the attack were exiled to the Court of Flesh and Blood.

Over the past hundreds of years, the living space of the people in Qianhe Valley has become smaller and smaller, and they are getting closer and closer to the Mountain County, so they can't help but be afraid.

To make matters worse, as the riots became more and more frequent, some of the lords of Faran or Leia said a lot of things like -

"If you continue to make trouble, I will send all of you to the Flesh and Blood King's Court!"

"If you dare to escape, the Knights of the Imperial Order will kill you all!"

"This is Qianhe Valley, you are the ones who should get out!"

As food production decreased after the flood, the number of refugees and famine survivors increased.

These rumors filled with resentment and dissatisfaction began to ferment and spread as they migrated.

Most of the people living here are laborers, who are basically technical workers without identity or household registration. The pub naturally became a breeding ground for these rumors.

"This is ridiculous..." the citizen at the counter asked hesitantly, "Can the church allow such a thing to happen?"

"You don't know, do you? All the living people in Xiaochi City were killed, even dogs and pigs were killed. When they saw earthworms, they cut them vertically."

A laborer from outside the city even said confidently: "I was in Xiaochi City at the time and saw it with my own eyes. The church can't do anything about it. It's just a change of name but the same old thing. The Pope is old and confused."

"Aren't you afraid of being arrested by Bishop Feiliu for saying this?"

"Because of what?"

"Disclosing church secrets."

"Hahahaha-"

The pub was suddenly filled with a cheerful atmosphere.

Horn never expected that he would hear the church jokes he wrote here. But what Horn never expected was how much his church jokes promoted these rumors.

These precious spiritual foods are what the workers talk about again and again after dinner.

Horn ate his pea soup thoughtfully.

It seems that even the peaceful Chateau Joan of Arc is not as peaceful as it appears.

As it approached noon, more laborers poured into the tavern, more noise came in, and more tavern politicians began to speak.

"In Kasha County, a loaf of bread costs 500,000 dinars!"

"This must be a conspiracy of the Leia people!"

"Don't you think about it, if it's not to drive us all away, why do you need to mobilize nine command companies?"

"The Holy Grandson is the Pope chosen by the Holy Father to help us because he saw how pitiful we are."

"During this period, the church has been trying to capture the Holy Grandson everywhere. If the Holy Grandson is not real, why would the church go to such great lengths?"

"The Saint's grandson is not a good guy either. Look at the group of people who claim to be the Saint's great-grandsons. They are sneaking around every day."

"Let's not talk about this for now, what should we do?"

"Didn't Mr. Juano speak for us? They wanted to increase taxes on dyes, but it was Mr. Juano who canceled it. Don't worry, it's okay."

In silence, Horn and the others finished their meal and shouted to the tavern owner, "Check out!"

"Four dinars and ten copper coins..." A man with a bruised face walked up to the table of Horn and others, "Lord Horn?"

Horn looked up blankly, only to see Halkin, who looked very surprised.

After helping Halkin pay for the meal, Horn walked out of the pub with him.

Looking at Halkin, who had changed into a rag robe, Horn sighed and said, "How come you are like this again, kid?"

"The pawnshop in Jeanne d'Arc doesn't know what's worth." Halkin held up a ring indignantly. "That's Count Jibashan's ring. How could it be fake?"

"The Earl of Jibashan?"

"Yes, he is a famous figure in the capital of Fran. It is said that he has inherited a large fortune. He has been particularly active in the capital in the past two years. I got this ring when I was his guide..."

"Okay, okay, I'm not interested in knowing this." Horn patted his shoulder. "I redeemed you because I have something to talk to you about."

"You say."

"Aren't you familiar with Jeanne d'Arc? See if you can find an engineer who is familiar with mechanical gears and the like."

"Where can I find an engineer?" Halkin was shocked by Horn's words. "As for craftsmen who are familiar with mechanical gears, such as locksmiths, I do know a few."

"That's okay too."

It was better than nothing. After giving Halkin four dinars for the fare, Horn took a carriage back to the camp.

After all, it's almost noon.

Instead of letting the carriage return directly, he asked the coachman to take a detour and pass through the so-called citizen area.

The carriage drove across the bridge over the canal and arrived at the wealthy area on the other side.

Around the town hall, under the clock tower, are two rows of neat and tidy houses, just as Casti said, with sycamore trees and white-painted houses.

Citizens walked along the streets, talking and laughing, and greeted each other politely.

Sure enough, the poor people are poor in different ways, but the rich people are all rich the same.

Walking along the Civic Road, you will reach the outer satellite town.

Horn lifted the curtain of the carriage and looked out.

Thatched houses, wooden houses, farmlands and orchards are blended together, and it is hard to tell whether this is a town or a village.

The entire city of Joan of Arc has a permanent population of about 5,000 to 6,000 citizens, and the remaining 10,000 or so people mostly live in peripheral satellite towns and ruins areas.

Further out are the nearby villages.

After getting off the carriage and arriving at the camp, Armand came to greet him at the door and said, "Your Majesty, the commanders of the thirty-four new camps have all registered."

"Who is the other one?" Horn took off his hooded robe and put on a refreshing outer robe.

"There is another one hanging on our wall..."

Coming to the cabin from the camp gate, thirty-four legion commanders were hiding under the eaves, staggering and sweating all over.

They had been waiting for nearly an hour and didn't dare to wait any longer.

"Are you all here?" Horn asked knowingly.

"Everyone who is alive is here." Thomas quickly stood up and said.

Horn clapped his hands twice: "Elders, you have made the most correct choice! Now, I need you to reiterate once again, who are you? Who do you belong to?"

The legion commanders looked at each other, and as the Black Hat Army watched them eagerly, they all said that sentence together.

"We are the elders of the Papal States, under the rule of the Holy Grandson, Pope Horn."

"Okay." Horn laughed. "Then, for the new camp, I will issue the first order - a great purge!"

(End of this chapter)