Chapter 95: All matters of the papal state are decided by the votes of the people

In the evening, the rain stopped for a while.

Wet wood burns with a pungent smell of smoke.

Stiff bodies were impaled on densely spiked wooden stakes, and the bodies of mercenaries were lying in disorder on the ground.

Walking on the open space of this level, you can feel a distinctly wet and sticky feeling under your feet, which is blood mixed with rain water.

The originally yellowish land was now dyed somewhat brown.

In front of the messy camp, both Cleonte and Bellard had gloomy faces.

They never expected that the group of country bumpkin mobs could pull off such a smooth little combo and take away the entire camp.

"What's wrong with your camp? With such a tight checkpoint, you didn't even report the news!" Bellard was the first to question.

Cleonte turned his head sharply, almost poking his finger at the tip of Bellard's nose: "I was going to ask you something. How did those short-haired people wear the clothes of your White Maple Mercenaries?"

"I only know that it was you, not me, Bellard, who let the shorthair go!"

"Yes, yes. When they left, they were still wearing the clothes of your White Maple Mercenaries!"

"I'm just an agent. The Baifeng Mercenary Group is a white mercenary group with many captains. Who knew they actually had a captain-level undercover agent in my place?"

"I think the biggest undercover agent of the Baifeng Mercenary Group is you!"

The two men stood in front of the gap in the wooden stake and cursed at each other for nearly five minutes. Then they stopped talking, panting like bulls.

"At this point, there is no other way." Cleonte suppressed the resentment in his heart, "Let's not play the dual commander game. Everyone should choose a direction and not interfere with each other. Whoever catches it will own it."

"Even better!" Bellard turned around and walked away. He turned back before he took two steps and said to Cléante, "I must tell His Royal Highness Prince Condé about this."

"what ever."

Cléante snorted coldly. Berard was just a relative of a Knight of the Imperial Order. If he could report this to Prince Condé, that would be really strange.

Besides, if you really want to talk about it, Bellard may not be right.

………………

The grass leaves were intertwined like the fingers of a wizard in a fairy tale. On a road that was at most two people wide, a long dragon-like team was moving forward quickly.

There was a chaotic sound of footsteps, and the friction between the armor rings. The bottoms of the spears and crutches were all covered with thick mud.

To their left was a dark forest, and to their right were towering mountains. In contrast to those mountains, Horn and his companions were like ants under the feet of a giant.

To the east of the Gaotai Mountains are the five mountainous counties consisting of Upper River County, South Mound County, North Mound County, Mound County and North County in the Thousand River Valley.

Among them, Upper River County where Horn is located is half mountainous and half plain.

The basin located in the lower reaches of the Nauan River is composed of four plain counties: Hotam County, Kasha County, Langsand County, and Lower River County.

However, plains are only relative to mountains. There is still a huge gap between the undulating hills in these four counties and the endless plains like those in Windmill Land and Flower Hill.

Pingyuan County only occupies one-third of the entire Thousand River Valley, but owns nearly half of the arable land and gathers more than half of the population of the entire Thousand River Valley.

Coming down from the high mountains, the land Horn stepped on was already the border between South Mound County and Lower River County. Further south was Longsand County - the destination of Horn and others.

Horn and others did not take the King's Road built by the Empire, but chose a more remote path.

Taking this path to reach Blackbone Swamp, you will have to go a longer distance, about five more miles.

Although King's Road was closer, it required crossing a wooden bridge and a checkpoint. But compared to being caught by those mercenaries or blocked at the checkpoint, Horn decided to be more cautious and not take that chance.

On this path, some refugees would occasionally appear randomly. They would just look at Horn's team from a distance and not come closer.

After all, the silver armor on those black soldiers is no joke.

These armors were plate breastplates, somewhat like iron camisole vests, with stiff leather hems sewn along the lower edge of the plates, extending to the thighs to protect the crotch.

In the previous battle, in addition to the armor seized from the Baifeng mercenaries, Horn also took away five carriages and more than twenty mules and horses from the mountain mercenary camp.

Traveling along with the mules, horses and carriages were Bonard, Hakuto and six prisoners of war who followed Hakuto.

They were stripped of all their armor and weapons, their hands were tied behind their backs, and tied with a rope to a slowly moving carriage.

As he walked, Hakuto was observing the black-clad soldiers.

Hakuto is forty-eight years old. He has been a mercenary since he was fourteen and has never seen such a mob.

If this was a group of soldiers, Hakuto would say that they were far from good enough and needed more practice.

But if these people were just farmers a month ago, Hakuto would have to stand up and see.

"how do you feel?"

"A bunch of rabble! I feel like they are not as strong as the Baifeng Mercenary Group." Hakuto was still sneering.

"You're being stubborn, aren't you? You're being a little stubborn." Jieshika held onto the edge of the truck bed and walked forward: "A bunch of rabble, can they walk across the mountains? A bunch of rabble, can they defeat you, Hakuto?"

"Hmph." Hakuto spat on the ground, "Did you come up with this real and fake camp? I haven't seen you for a few years. Are you working for the secret party?"

"These are not my thoughts." Jieshka shook his head and looked at Horn, who was forcing himself to move forward despite his trembling calves. "This is what His Majesty the Saint Sun came up with."

"Don't flatter your master." Hakuto, with his hands tied behind his back, stepped forward in embarrassment. "I heard from Brother Bonard that he was just a farmer before."

"No, including the real and fake camps, marching regulations, logistics management, the income and expenditure of the holy treasury and even the recipes, almost all of it is taken care of by His Majesty the Holy Grandson." Jeshka's greasy long hair stuck to his round face.

If Horn were here, he would probably cry. If it weren't for the fact that these green-skinned bugs couldn't do a thing well, he would never want to do it all by himself.

It was all forced out. The time-telling chicken in the Gulag monastery is still in the pot, staring at Horn every day.

“If it weren’t for him, we wouldn’t be here.”

Hakuto turned his head away, obviously not believing what Jeshka said.

"I don't have to lie to you." Jieshka's leisurely voice came from the side, "I am also confused, is there really someone who knows it naturally?"

"Maybe he learned it in Mount Paradise." Hakuto's tone was full of sarcasm.

Without responding to Hakuto's words, Jeshka walked forward a distance.

“You see, in our team, only the elderly, the weak, women, children and the sick can ride in carriages, while the rest of the bishops, even His Holiness the Pope, have to walk.

You have cooperated a lot with the church, and you yourself are a devout believer in Messiah. Tell me, can the bishops of the church do this?

Compared to the people in the church, don't you think His Holiness Horn, who eats the same food, walks the same way, and wears the same clothes as everyone else, is more like a pope?"

Hakuto paused, then continued walking forward.

Jieshka wanted to say something else, but he saw a child soldier running over from the front army: "Captain Jieshka, Wanpiao has something urgent to discuss with you."

(End of this chapter)