Chapter 329 Before
"Giggle-"

The rooster that announced the time crowed loudly, and the sultry wind blew the red and black flags from side to side.

From the time the Salvation Army captured Moncruz Manor until now, after five sunny days with scorching sun, a damp and cloudy day finally arrived.

Sauna-like heat swept through the small fortress. As usual, the construction site was still busy and the division leaders were becoming increasingly irritable.

"I fucking love you! The formwork is set up! The support is up! Where's the mortar? Where's my fucking mortar!!!"

"We agreed to open at 9 o'clock, but the mortar didn't arrive until 12 o'clock, and you told me that they had left?!"

"What are you eating? Hurry up and get to work. I'll treat you to meat tonight after you finish!"

After two days of transporting materials and three days of construction, the outline of the fortress has gradually taken shape.

After finishing this work in a hurry, the hard-working holy gunners were left to continue plastering, while the engineers and local people were finally able to have lunch and take a break at two o'clock in the afternoon.

After working together for several days, and as they were all from Longsand County, the engineers and villagers became increasingly familiar with each other.

Hiding under the arbour, eating raw cabbage and rice cracker paste, they sat cross-legged together as usual, chatting and gossiping.

"You really get 3 dinars a day?"

A local villager curiously asked the lame old engineer next to him, with disbelief in his eyes.

"Three dinars are nothing. When I was in the legion, I earned four dinars a day. After the war, I got two gold pounds from the spoils!" With a smug smile on his face, the lame old soldier swallowed the rice cracker paste and stretched out two fingers.

In fact, the daily wage of an engineer is 1 dinar. The lame veteran has holy power and knows the alchemy of mortar reinforcement, so he has a subsidy of 1 dinar. He himself is a retired veteran, so he can get a 1 dinar allowance for free every day.

This resulted in the lame old soldier's daily wage being six times that of the local villagers, and the ordinary engineers' daily wage being twice that of the villagers.

"Is it so good?" The young villager showed a longing look.

"Our lives are much better than here." Another engineer ate his meal happily.

"Humph, you're lying. You have this much money, but you're still working as an engineer?" An old farmer holding a wooden bowl snorted disdainfully. "You can live well under the rule of heretics."

"I work as an engineer to fight the devil. Besides, it's stupid not to make money." The old soldier patted his belly. "Do I look like a person who suffers? But you are as thin as a stick."

"The knights said that the Salvation Army is a heretic and an enemy of our orthodox faith." A local villager still had some doubts.

"Who told you that? Those knights are the greedy devils. They oppress you and take away your land and food." An engineer retorted.

"But the church says..." the villager continued stubbornly.

"The Holy Grandson said that the real heretic devils are those who exploit believers in the name of the Holy Father." The engineer said seriously, "The fact is that the church is exploiting believers!"

"What do you mean by exploitation?" the old farmer said, stiffening his neck. "You said I was exploited? Why don't I feel that I was exploited?"

The retired lame old soldier sneered. They had discussed this issue when they were doing collective confession with the Holy Fathers monks on Autumn Island.

“Remember the Heavenly Dream you sang these days?”

"Remember, what happened?"

"There's a line in the Dream of Heaven: Grow your own food, the more you work the more you'll get. Do you agree?"

The old farmer immediately replied: "Of course I agree. This is only natural. Do I need you to tell me?"

"Then let me ask you, did the lord grow his own crops? Did he work? Why should he get your harvest?"

The old farmer opened his mouth many times but didn't say a word.

Instead, an armed peasant nearby jumped out and said, "The lord protected us. This is his labor."

"Did he protect you? Then why did you fall into the hands of us 'heretics'?" After listening for a long time, Grizz stood up, his eyes as sharp as a sword. The lame old soldier echoed: "Protection is to ensure your safety. They are slaughtering you themselves, how can they say they are protecting you?"

"Even if they can protect you, don't you think they take too much? I hire a mercenary for less than 4 gold pounds a year. A knight charges 20 to 30 gold pounds a year, and you are required to perform military service and protect yourself." Grizz followed behind and continued to finish off.

The armed peasants were immediately speechless. Several village leaders looked at them in surprise. No wonder they were called war monks, they were as eloquent as the monk masters.

"I don't care, you are heretics, that's what the bishop said." The old farmer was obviously the lowest-level public bookkeeper, but he still jumped up and down and shouted.

"The Bishop of Qianhe Valley is a devil. This is what the Holy Father said!" The lame old soldier slapped the ground fiercely, and growled in anger at the misfortune of the people. "Those nobles and knights have done things like using children to make wine, and you still want to defend them?"

It would have been fine if this matter had not been mentioned. As soon as it was mentioned, the old farmer stood up from the ground for some reason, and was so angry that he went crazy.

He threw all the rice crackers to the ground, his whole body trembling, his eyes wide open, and he shouted hoarsely: "You, you...nonsense, you are talking nonsense!"

Rolling up his sleeves, the old farmer rushed towards the lame old soldier: "That's a rumor, you made it up!"

But even if he had the rage bonus, he was like a piece of cake in front of the veterans who had experienced the baptism of battlefield.

Despite having a limp in one leg, the lame old soldier was still agile. He supported himself on the ground, jumped up, and pushed sideways, tripping him with his lame leg.

The old farmer lost his balance and fell to the ground. Blood was oozing from his nose and scratched lips, and the blood and dirt were stuck to his chin.

He supported himself on the ground and climbed up, wanting to fight back with red eyes, but the lame old soldier took a fighting stance.

But before the fight started, Deklama rushed up, as if he wanted to tattoo a "anger" on his forehead.

"Butler Deklama..."

"Snapped!"

Without saying anything, Deklama slapped him twice with his backhand and forehand, shouting, "You are so rebellious! You still want to hit me? Do you know what freedom and equality are? Kneel down and apologize to me."

After observing for a period of time, Deklama could basically recognize who the war monk master was.

Anyone who wears an iron gear pendant around his neck, has a slight disability, but stands straight and walks in a methodical manner is a war monk.

The old farmer opened his mouth, a bright red palm print appeared on his face, and his whole body froze on the spot.

"What are you doing standing still? Apologize!"

"No thanks." The lame old soldier frowned and looked at Deklama, then said to the old farmer earnestly, "Seeing is believing, hearing is not. Why don't you go to our place and see for yourself?"

The old farmer looked at the lame old soldier sadly and said nothing more.

He walked back to his original position, squatted on the ground with his head down, scooped up the dusty rice paste with his hands, put it to his mouth, and ate it in big mouthfuls.

"What? I told you to apologize, but you ate it!" Deklama was furious. He pulled out the cane and walked over. "The master said to forgive me, and you dare to forgive me?"

The lame old soldier looked at Grizz helplessly.

Grizz understood and walked forward, and was about to stop them, but he heard a quick whistle.

His face turned serious and he immediately gave up what he was doing, ran out of the shed, turned around and looked up at the sky.

Sure enough, a column of red smoke rose from the southeast.

"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!"

Just as Grizzi finished shouting, a deep horn sounded from the fortress.

"A large group of cavalry is approaching from the southeast!"

(End of this chapter)