Chapter 23 Horn roared and rushed towards the monk

"Priest? Where did the priest come from?"

Horn interrupted the fisherman's incoherent narration with a sneeze, and a look of confusion appeared between his brows.

His brain was working unusually slowly today.

But before he could understand what the fisherman said, he heard a loud shout coming from nearby.

"Do it!"

Before Horn could react, a big hand suddenly stretched out from the side of the chattering fisherman and slapped him hard in the face.

Horn could even see the ripples on the fisherman's cheeks.

The fisherman was hit so hard that blood spurted out of his ears and nose. He spun to one side and fell headfirst to the ground.

With a crackling sound, the white bones of the spine pierced through the skin.

Horn opened his mouth to scream, and in an instant he saw a huge fist filling his vision.

It's black in front of you.

When he woke up from the dizziness, all he could see was the dark gray sky.

Two men in black with grappling spears on their backs twisted his hands behind his back. Horn was dragged along, his heels drawing a V-shaped trail of mud on the grass.

"I'm here to inspect, what are you doing?"

Horn tried to use breathing techniques, but he just couldn't get into the state.

He struggled desperately, kicking the ground with his feet, splashing mud everywhere, but he still couldn't break free from the night guard's restraints.

The two night guards often dealt with bandits and mobs, so they were naturally very skilled and had no problem suppressing Horn.

Although his body was struggling, Horn did not forget to think about the situation.

Who are these people?

From the people he could see, there were two night guards, one tall and one short, holding his arms, and an armored sergeant was guarding them.

Barnett's affair exposed?
That shouldn't be the case. I chopped his face off and threw it into the flood. Judging from the time, he should be somewhere at the bottom of the Emerald Sea now.

Could it be that someone had fished it out?

It can't be that unlucky. Even if he was rescued, given the complicated structure of the Church of Messiah, it would take a month from the transmission of the news to the decision to send out the personnel to the formal dispatch of the personnel and then to their arrival at the scene.

Considering the efficiency of the church, arriving in a month would be considered lightning fast.

Putting all that aside, how did they know they were the leader and carry out a textbook surgical precision raid?

Does the church have items like life lamps or prophecies?

The world with magic is so annoying!

Just when Horn was in despair, a long arrow streaked across the sky with the sound of a bowstring breaking through the air.

The long arrow was like a black line, piercing through the tall night guard's arm.

"Ah hehe!"

The night guard howled in an unintelligible dialect and curled up in pain.

As lightly armored/unarmored infantry, the Night Guards are most afraid of weapons such as javelins and bows and arrows.

Feeling his right arm loosen, Horn quickly pulled his arm free, turned around, and kicked another short night guard hard in the crotch.

My toes felt the same sensation as when I was a child, stepping on plastic bubble wrap.

The facial features of the short night guard immediately contracted, and a line of tears slowly slid down his wrinkles.

Seeing that Horn was trying to escape, the armored soldier next to him immediately drew his sword and rushed over.

Behind Horn were the night watch guards, on one side was the flood, and on the other side were the armored soldiers who had rushed here, but the child soldiers would not be able to get here for a while.

There is no other way but to move forward.

"Where are you running to, old man!"

Horn roared and rushed towards the monk.

Unfortunately, the short guard who fell to the ground holding his hip was very determined. At the critical moment, he reached out and grabbed Horn's ankle.

What would happen if this secret party pounced on him and injured the monk?
Horn's ankle was grabbed, his feet slipped, and he fell forward.

The armored sergeant just happened to swing his sword, and Horn even had a few hairs cut off from the back of his head.

"Catch them alive!" The frightened Iron-Tooth Monk shouted.

The armored sergeant took the opportunity to bend down and lock Horn's neck from behind.

With iron-like muscles across his neck, Horn knelt on the ground, his nose almost dripping from the snot.

"I, I can't breathe..."

"No, don't kill him!"

Seeing that Horn was about to be strangled to death, the Iron-Tooth Monk immediately jumped out to stop him.

Seeing Horn's aggrieved look, the armored sergeant relaxed.

This is what Horn was waiting for.

He quickly reached out and fumbled for the sergeant's finger, broke off one, and fiercely pinched the nail. "Ah--" Covering the finger with the flipped nail, the sergeant bent his waist and let out a scream.

Before the howl was over, Jessica, who had already shot three arrows off target, finally hit his knee accurately.

The bottom edge of the mail hauberk of the armored sergeant only reached his buttocks.

Fortunately, Horn got a chance to survive and gasped for breath.

As a small-town test-taker who was often blackmailed by thugs in middle school, Horn is quite good at escaping from a neck lock.

Seeing that Horn escaped because of his words, the Iron-Tooth Monk was so anxious that his gums bled: "Catch him, catch him quickly!"

Due to lack of oxygen, Horn's consciousness was a little fuzzy. Hearing the Iron Tooth Monk's cry, he didn't bother to think too much. He roared again and pounced on the Iron Tooth Monk.

"A newborn dog!"

The armored sergeant who was guarding the monks jumped out and stood in front of Horn.

The two of them were entangled together, Jessica was sweating profusely, his arrow was trembling, and he was afraid to shoot out to save the situation.

Gritting his teeth, he called out to seven or eight villagers who had hurried over, and they ran towards the monks with fishing nets, pitchforks and flails.

The Iron-Tooth Monk was apparently startled by Horn's roar and hid behind Gilo.

As a swindler, Jilo has been through many battles and has seen a lot. No matter what he thinks in his heart, he just watches coldly.

"Papa!"

From the hillside, six children came into view.

It’s the Kids Army!

Because they were too weak, they worked in pairs, carrying a long wooden pole with great effort.

At the front of the pole, there was a half-meter-long thorn, flashing a cold dark red light.

With the neat steps from daily training, he stabbed the two night guards with his long spear.

The short guard stood up with a ferocious look on his face, took out his harpoon, and swept it towards Horn's calf.

If the hook got caught this time, a large piece of flesh would be torn off from the calf.

But before he could make a move, two sharp spikes appeared in front of him.

"Little devil! Unclean one!" The short guard turned around helplessly to block and shouted angrily, "Guards who attack the Holy Father will go to hell!"

He turned around, picked up the harpoon and swept towards the children.

According to his past experience, given the cowardly character of the people in Qianhe Valley, these children should have been frightened into dropping their weapons and running away immediately.

Even if they are not frightened, a few simple shakes and threats will make them behave in a panic and be at a loss.

This was the tactic used by the guards to help the estate owners and armed peasants suppress the rebellious peasants and refugees.

Many times, those seemingly tall refugees and public book farmers would push and shove each other, or even fight among themselves, just because they were yelled at.

But to the surprise of the short guard, these young boys, although their steps were still messy, remained calm.

The guards' tentative swings and left-right switching not only failed to knock down the young boys, but also caused them to put their throats in front of the long spikes several times.

This time, it was the short guard who was at a loss. In his panic, he didn't notice that the three long spikes swaying in front of him had turned into two.

"Oh hey!" Du Valon and Le Mans shouted at the same time and thrust their long spears forward.

Then, the short guard felt a chill moving along the crack of his buttocks.

In a flash, the long thorn had pierced through the black hole behind the guard and came out from his lower abdomen.

Another tall guard who was shot by an arrow wanted to go forward to help, but after taking two steps, he saw a heavy flail sweeping towards him.

He ducked his head and dodged, but more stones and mud were thrown at him, first covering his face and then smashing his head.

A dozen young and strong villagers finally arrived.

On the hillside, more and more villagers were coming here carrying sticks, pitchforks and stones.

The Iron-Tooth Monk and even the usually calm Jilo began to break out in cold sweat.

"This is the devil!" Horn was pinned to the ground by the armored sergeant. The sweaty smell under his armpits made him unable to open his eyes. "Believers! What did I teach you? God's grace is like the sea. Believers, fight the devil!"

Seeing dozens of villagers surrounding him, the Iron-Tooth Monk became anxious.

If we continue to waste time like this and the witch comes, that would be bad.

"Fellow believers, you have all been deceived. He is the devil! Let us go now. We will bring a large army to rescue you soon!"

The villagers looked at each other in bewilderment; they could see that the monk's clothes were those of a deacon.

Attacking a deacon priest of a church was still a challenge to the villagers' bottom line.

"Believers, don't believe what they say. Have you forgotten what the Holy Father said? We must wipe out all the demons! Eighty acres of good farmland! Brick and tile houses! Lands far away!"

"Don't believe it, he is the devil!"

Seeing more and more people gathering, the Iron-Tooth Monk wiped the sweat from his forehead, glared at Horn hatefully, and took out the holy water grenade.

"Anyone who has come into contact with the witch will suffer a distortion of their soul to a certain extent. They have no way to hide from the precious holy water grenade."

Throwing the holy water grenade next to Horn, the Iron-fanged Monk shouted, "Look, that's not a saint at all, but a witch!"

(End of this chapter)