Chapter 9 Barnett Crusoe
Saint?

The remaining people gradually came to their senses. According to what the Saint Grandson said, Jeanne was not a witch, but a saint with the same powerful power as a witch.

At first, most people thought it was ridiculous, but after thinking about it, they began to understand it.

Yes, Horn is the holy grandson appointed by the Holy Father, so Barnett who wants to kill Horn is bad and is a devil, while Jeanne who saves Horn is good and must be holy.

It can’t be that the Holy Grandson is a devil, right?

But this would be tantamount to saying that they had just helped the devil and misunderstood Saint Jeanne.

This is bound to make people feel uneasy.

After the crowd calmed down, some of those who had cursed Jeanne and even thrown stones broke out in cold sweats.

They looked evasive, especially Peak, Alina and Andok who were pointed out earlier. They tried to speak in a stammering voice but tried their best to hide their bodies behind the crowd.

"It was indeed the devil Barnett who was too good at misleading people. He made you misunderstand our Saint Jeanne." Horn cleared his throat and pretended to understand. "These are all the devil's fault. He made you do this. What I said is right, isn't it?"

"Ah, yes, yes, it's the devil who has deceived us."

"As expected of the Saint Grandson Master, you are very observant!"

"Tsk, having said that, you all have helped the devil before, and I'm afraid there are devil's followers among you." Horn spread his hands, looking embarrassed.

"No way, absolutely impossible."

"Master Saint Grandson, I report that the youngest son of the Patmon family is Rector's child! He must be a devil!"

"I'm not a devil. She's my biological sister. How could I..."

"Master, I want to atone my sins. I have a 100-year indulgence. Can you change it?"

In an instant, hundreds of villagers started to make a lot of noise as if there was an uproar in the pot.

They cursed and accused each other, pushed and shoved each other, and quarreled until their faces turned red. They rushed to report to Horn which family was the devil and cleared themselves of suspicion.

The villagers who had been moving in unison started to quarrel; their shoes fell off, their robes were scattered, those who were reported punched the reporters, the reporters punched those who tried to stop the fight, and those who tried to stop the fight punched those who passed by.

This chaotic scene left Horn with a lot of questions in his mind.

I didn't say anything, why did they start fighting?

Are you greenskins? You are so hungry, how can you still have the energy to fight?
They are self-righteous, blindly follow others, and extreme. They only have a five-minute memory and can change their minds with just a few words from others.

Horn really couldn't understand, were only the peasants in the other world like this, or were all people in the Middle Ages like this?
"Okay, okay, I understand what you all mean. You are all very willing to help me find the devil's followers." Horn immediately stopped their behavior by clapping vigorously. "In that case, I have a suggestion."

Letting go of Jeanne's waist, Horn stepped through the muddy water with one foot deep and one foot shallow, and came to Barnett's still twitching body.

After struggling to strip off Barnett's plate armor, Horn dragged him aside.

Picking up Jeana's pitchfork, Horn stood in front of all the villagers again: "The devil's followers must not attack the devil. Come up one by one and stab the devil named Barnet with this pitchfork. Then I will know that you are innocent."

After saying this, Horn glanced meaningfully at the few armed peasants and rich peasants hiding behind the majority of the peasants.

They were visibly nervous.

"Please help me supervise. If anyone doesn't stab, or doesn't stab deeply, then he is a follower of the devil. Please report him to me. How about that?"

After sticking the pitchfork into the green grass, Horn turned around and came to Jeanne, whispering something.

Jeanne nodded heavily, turned around and left.

Standing in front of the pitchforks, most of the farmers, dressed in gray and yellow linen dresses, were still hesitating.

They put their heads together, in a group, whispering and encouraging each other.

Although Barnett is a knight, he is a noble after all, and he has accumulated great power. How dare they attack a noble?
The dead nobles are nobles, and the corpses of nobles are also noble corpses.

"The rain is getting heavier, and it's getting late." Horn reminded casually, "Originally, it was the devil's ban that forbade you from entering the forest, and it should be abolished. But I'm afraid that the devil's followers will run into the forest and escape. What should I do?"

The whispering became more frequent.

Soon, Jeanne finally came back, carrying two heavy bulging sacks.

It must be said that after awakening, Jeanna's strength has increased a lot. The two sacks weighed 60 pounds each, but she didn't look tired at all. Putting the two sacks at his feet, Horn opened the pocket of one of them and showed it to the villagers.

In the sack, there are white rice crackers, full of tempting aroma.

"To compensate for your loss of not being able to enter the forest, I'll give you these 120 pounds of rice crackers as dinner." Horn tightened the pockets of the sack. "Stab this devil and you'll get half a pound of rice crackers."

Half a pound of rice crackers!

What a terrible word! They haven't eaten for five days and are surviving on dirt, grass and the remaining rice bran.

A full half pound of rice crackers! There were both adults and children! The sound of swallowing saliva was heard everywhere. The damn devil Barnett actually hid 120 pounds of rice crackers?!
Finally, a figure walked out of the crowd. It was the young monk from before. Horn remembered that his name seemed to be Armand.

Horn raised his eyebrows, thinking that he was going to cause trouble again, but what he didn't expect was that the young man skillfully pulled out the pitchfork that was melted by lightning and only had one sharp tooth left, and walked to Barnett's body.

He pulled off Barnett's woolen trousers, exposing his white bottom, and drove the pitchfork straight into his buttocks until the tines reached the base.

Pulling out the pitchfork, the little monk covered his nose and stuck the bloody pitchfork back into the ground.

"Where are my rice crackers?"

"Do you have pockets?"

Seeing the young monk lift up the long collar of his cloth robe to make a temporary pocket, Horn didn't waste any words. He picked up a large wooden spoon for grain and scooped a spoonful into his pocket.

"Damn it, that's the wooden spoon that the knight used to collect grain. That spoonful is much more than half a pound!" someone in the crowd cursed in anguish.

Soon, the second person appeared, followed by the third and fourth, and several bloody holes appeared on the knight's buttocks.

Like an avalanche, more and more people came forward, even starting to scramble for pitchforks or report others for not stabbing deep enough.

In order to prevent others from gossiping, some people would even stab several times, but it is unclear whether this is to avoid suspicion or to vent anger.

Under the pressure of the situation, the armed peasants and rich peasants had to pick up their pitchforks and receive their rice crackers.

After the two bags of rice crackers were distributed, everyone ignored the rain and did not care about getting angry. They just held the rice crackers in their hands and ate them raw.

I've been hungry for so many days and I can't bear it anymore.

Many people swallowed it in two or three bites, while the remaining few were still rational and only ate two bites, and kept the rest as reserve food.

Who knows when the flood will stop?
After eating a few bites of rice crackers, Horn prepared to start dealing with Barnett's aftermath.

Holding his nose, Horn stood in front of Barnett's body.

With hundreds of blood holes on his body, coupled with the warm and humid weather and the presence of swarming mosquitoes, Barnett's body fermented and became extremely smelly in just half an hour.

But no matter what, the body must be dealt with. After all, the common people's testimony could be said to be that they were starving to death, and the bishop never cared.

But if there was actual evidence of a corpse, even if Barnett was just an unknown country knight, a thorough investigation would be conducted, and perhaps even witchers would be sent out.

Knights are more or less considered to be members of the nobility.

In aristocratic society, family and dignity are the most important. If the church fails to do its job, Barnett's relatives may come to investigate and put pressure on it.

In order to lighten the burden on his shoulders when he escaped, Horn had to destroy the body.

Horn originally wanted to ask someone to burn the body, but the rain was too heavy, and they couldn't make a fire in the cabin to roast the body, right?
Even if a fire was lit, how could it be burned out with such heavy rain?

Buried? Wouldn't that leave evidence of the crime?

Should we wait until the rain stops before starting the fire? Still no idea. Who knows when the rain will stop? If a plague breaks out by then, it will be troublesome.

After much deliberation, Horn called over several young men, stripped off the knight's armor and clothes, chopped his face with the Farsi dagger that Barnett was wearing, and then threw him into the flood together.

Looking at Barnett floating away in the flood, Horn pondered in his heart.

The water level is so high that by the time the flood recedes, Barnett will either have rotted beyond recognition or have already reached the sea.

　Thanks for the invitation, competing with the Spring Festival Gala for traffic.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)