Chapter 196 What about the church? Fixed body question!
"when!"

The thumb-sized stone hit the iron helmet with a crisp buzzing sound, and Gibson immediately felt his head buzzing.

He straightened his helmet and looked in that direction angrily, but saw several children about eleven or twelve years old lying on the roof, looking at him with bared teeth.

"Who are you from..." Standing next to the sentry post at the bridgehead, Gibson was about to shout, but he saw one of the children swung his arms and threw something at him.

He never thought that they would dare to throw stones at him even though he was clearly watching them.

Before he could recover from his surprise, a stone the size of an egg was quickly becoming clear.

Gibson felt a sharp pain on the bridge of his nose and leaned back suddenly. He loosened the grappling spear in his hand and covered his nose. Tears came out of his eyes due to the stimulation of the sore nasal cavity.

"Captain Gibson? Are you okay?"

"Whose child is this!"

Gibson lowered his head and covered his nose, tears streaming down his face. He pointed in the direction of the children and said, "Catch them for me."

Beside him, seven or eight night watchmen immediately picked up their harpoons and ran towards the house, while the young men on the house shouted "Pied Piper! Go to hell!" and scattered in all directions.

The night guards separated and ran towards different young men, but they could not run any further before they had taken a few steps.

The people on the street, whether they were laborers, craftsmen or citizens, were like a human wall, using their shoulders and bodies to support the night guards.

The guards were squeezed in the crowd, unable to move forward, and some were even tripped by the legs of beggars and vagrants on the street.

They were covered in bruises and bruises, but could only watch the boys who threw stones climb up and down the roof and finally disappear into the sunset.

The guards immediately turned around and yelled, "What are you doing?"

"The kids were just throwing it around for fun."

"Hey, why are you fussing with a child? Right?"

Pedestrians on the road began to take sides, and some even blatantly blocked the guards' way.

With a handkerchief plugging his bleeding nose, Gibson walked up to the crowd and asked, "What do you want to do?"

"I'm not doing anything." A laborer who was blocking Gibson spread his hands and said, "I'm just walking normally. Why did you stop me and hit my shoulder with your chest?"

"You goat!" Gibson, with a red face, reached out and grabbed the worker's collar. "Do you want to die?"

"Oh, oh, oh, you must not forget your hometown and relatives." The old beggar sitting on the roadside basking in the sun said sarcastically, "Some people, who have been drinking the water of Qianhe Valley and eating the rice crackers grown by us Qianhe Valley people since they were young, want to fight us Qianhe Valley people."

As the old man was speaking, some citizens and laborers gathered around him. They did not attack directly, but just stared at Gibson with puzzled expressions.

Under the stern and cold gaze, Gibson swallowed and subconsciously let go of his hand.

But after he realized what was happening, he immediately raised his harpoon and pointed it at the crowd in anger: "You want to rebel? What? Are you short-haired?"

It would have been better if he hadn't said this, but once he said it, it caused a huge uproar, and even passers-by stopped in their tracks.

"I wish I had short hair!"

"Shorthairs are all heroes. They even said they want to avenge our children in Qianhe Valley!"

"If it weren't for the Holy Sun, I wouldn't know where my nephew had gone. What happened to the short hair? Does the night watchman have a bright face?"

"Isn't Shorthair a good man? Our Juanno is such a good man, wasn't he burned to death by that pimp?"

"Look, they used to kill our children secretly to make wine, but now they are doing it out in the open."

Seeing the crowd around him getting thicker and thicker, countless index fingers pointed viciously at Gibson. The other guards behind him gathered towards him with their backs together, and some of their companions even pulled his hem, signaling him to give up.

Gibson was completely confused. He remembered that in the past, those kids didn't even dare to hit him, let alone get close to him.

Whenever I chased others, they would obediently give way to me. Not to mention scolding me face to face, they wouldn't even dare to say a word if I knocked them down.

What exactly happened here?
"Hurry up, hurry up, the armored sergeant is coming."

On the roof, the boy who had just smashed the Gibson stone came back. He shouted at the stalemated crowd below, and then disappeared again in the eaves. Upon hearing this news, the passers-by scattered in confusion. They were still afraid, so they could only bully these night watchmen who had no extraordinary powers.

The night guards did not dare to stop them, nor could they do so, and could only be pushed and shoved in the fleeing crowd.

Even while fleeing the scene, they kept rubbing against the night guards. One of them even pretended to stretch and gave Gibson a hard elbow on the nose.

By the time Gibson squatted on the ground, holding his nose in pain, the crowd had dispersed.

The guards were in a mess, their clothes were in disarray, their hair and bodies were covered with rotten vegetable leaves and rotten eggs. They stood there in a mess, without any of their former majesty.

Standing up, Gibson wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes with a handkerchief. He didn't know whether his tears were because of pain or fear.

"GuluGulu——"

The wheels rolled over the ground and wooden boards, and several carriages drove over from the bridge.

The wooden bridge groaned with decay, and Gibson quickly retreated to the side of the road.

On the bridge, a team of armored sergeants and three extraordinary knights were escorting two freight carriages carrying a dozen prisoners who were to be transported to a quarry outside the city to do hard labor.

Their hands were tied with ropes, their hair was disheveled, their mouths were bruised, and they swayed up and down as the carriage moved.

They were all citizens and laborers, even low-level priests, who had rushed to Feiliu Castle Church to block the road and demand justice after receiving the news the day before yesterday.

These people were judged as "short-haired" by the church and the empire.

But unlike in the past, people on the roadside cheered for the prisoners in the carriage and even threw bread, cheese and cabbage to them for them to eat on the road.

The prisoners, like victorious heroes, raised their bound hands and waved to the people on both sides of the road to express their gratitude, as if they were heroes going to war.

Faced with this situation, the knight's face was full of annoyance, but he could not vent it because he knew that even if he ordered the armored soldiers to disperse the people, it would not be of much use.

These armored soldiers were also from Qianhe Valley. Asking them to disperse the people would only give the people a chance to rush forward and let the prisoners escape.

Standing behind the cheering crowd, Mizam, dressed in black and wearing a hood, said nothing.

In just ten days, have things evolved to this point?

After the Blue Blood Incident broke out, although he quickly blocked the news, he could not completely block the river, and many refugees and businessmen still spread the news.

This news was originally just doubtful and was regarded as a rumor by many people.

But just five days ago, news came that a blue-blood orphanage was discovered in the city of Blackwood in North Mound County, and hundreds of blue-blood orphans were rescued.

Compared to the gentle people in the Thousand River Valley plains, the mountain people who retained the violent character of their original Kushite origin directly burned down the local church.

The priests of the Blue Blood Orphanage were put on the millstone by the mountain people and ground into dregs in public, and there were still mountain people drinking from cups at the scene.

Then the already restless Archduchess Meliati took over the Blackwood Township, which was originally under the influence of the church, and posted a message questioning:
"What's wrong with this church? The believers are always the ones who suffer. I couldn't help but fall into deep thought. This must be a problem with the church system!"

With the instigation of the Archduchess and the promotion of Juanno believers from all over the country, the scene that just happened was everywhere in the Thousand River Valley.

Yesterday in Rapid City, a bishop was attacked while out, stripped naked, and hung naked at the entrance of a technical college.

The situation was relatively better in the four plain counties, as the news was blocked in rural areas and had not spread yet. Although the news gradually spread in urban areas, it was at most humiliation and no one dared to go too far.

The situation in the five mountain counties was not right. The bishops did not even dare to leave the church gate. Even if they had to go out, they had to bring at least two teams of soldiers with them, otherwise they would be attacked at any time.

Mitzham even heard that a bishop in Mountain County was stabbed to death by a group of beggars while traveling to another diocese because of a rumor that he "had blue blood wine at home."

The reason why the old bishop's whereabouts were exposed was because a local priest in Qianhe Valley tipped off the beggars and refugees and made clear arrangements for the old bishop.

What an unfortunate coincidence, these three things happened at the same time.

Mizam sighed and walked deeper into the alley.

(End of this chapter)