When the Saint comes, she does not collect food.

“Archbishop Tomley wants to assassinate His Holiness the Pope?!”

Jeshka dug at his ear with his little finger, thinking he had misheard.

“We… we… found… but not… belt secret… exposed… known… quick, go quickly notify His Holiness the Pope.”

Straightening the skinny, short-clothed youth who was bent over gasping for breath, Jeshka's face was serious: “I know you're anxious, but don't be, tell me what happened from the beginning!”

At this moment, in the Papal Guard camp next to the entrance of the Gulag Monastery, many guards had already woken up from their dreams. They walked out of their rooms, looking towards Jeshka's direction.

“No, there's no time.” Seeing that Jeshka didn't move, the short-clothed youth became even more anxious than before, “On the way here, I saw Tomley leading people rushing over, all armed.”

“What?!” Jeshka abandoned the short-clothed youth, and in a movement completely contrary to his fat body, darted up a large locust tree.

Moonlight poured down on the flat slope in front of the door, and several burning torches were unusually eye-catching.

Weapons, under the light of the moon and torches, gleamed with a strange orange reflection.

“Impossible.” Jeshka muttered to himself, before the envoy of the Secret Party arrived, Holy Grandson and Archbishop Tomley could never fall out.

But now the reality was right in front of him, allowing him no further investigation.

Tomley was, after all, a smuggler, a vicious and extremely evil character. What if he had a moment of madness and really came to assassinate Holy Grandson?

These smugglers who licked blood from their blades were always neurotic, who knew what they were thinking?

“Fvacheva.” Jeshka jumped down from the tree, hurriedly slung his longbow over his back, and picked up a spiked hammer, shouting towards the only girl soldier.

“Here!” Fvacheva squeezed out from among the knees of the adults, three fingers together, held across her chest, giving a child soldier's salute.

“Go, take these scrolls, and find Holy Grandson, and say that Tomley suddenly arrived with troops late at night, supposedly because he discovered the secret of the belt.”

With the scrolls recording the rumors of "Tomley attacking Madelan" and "Madelan attacking Tomley" on her back, Fvacheva quickly came to the wall, pushed open a few loose bricks, and crawled into the monastery through the dog hole.

“Papal Guard, assemble!”

Lighting the torches, several decurions quickly struck copper gongs, beginning to gather manpower.

Soon, forty or so elite, battle-hardened Papal Guards armed with flails, pitchforks, and woodcutting knives gathered in front of Jeshka.

The night wind blew, and under the command of their respective decurions and Jeshka, they stood in a 5x7 square formation with resolute expressions.

The first row held half-height wooden gates and woodcutting knives; these were sword and shield soldiers, responsible for blocking the thrusts of spears from the front row and cutting off enemy lances.

The four rows behind them held pitchforks and flails; the pitchfork men were spearmen, responsible for the main killing and breakthrough in the charge, while the flail men were warhammer men, responsible for breaking shields and attacking enemies behind shields.

On both sides of the square formation, there were also four or five knife-and-shield skirmishers holding wooden pot lids, short axes, and daggers.

They were mostly short in stature, responsible for rolling around under the spears, and cutting the enemies' calves and feet exposed outside the shields.

The night wind blew, ruffling the corners of their linen soft armor, revealing the angular rib cages of these guards.

The snow-white moonlight shone on their sunken cheeks, like a group of skeleton soldiers wearing black hoods.

As an old mercenary and mercenary manager, no one understood battle formations and cost compression better than Jeshka.

The guards were quite familiar with this battle formation. With the organization developed from the previous marching prayers, and the morale of the Papal Guards, using this battle formation was not a problem.

They had previously used this formation to beat up local ruffians and villagers with unparalleled success.

When Tomley's figure appeared at the edge of the slope, Jeshka's heart couldn't help but sink.

There were fifty fully armed burly men, wearing leather armor, and holding warhammers and spears.

“Chap, move quickly, immediately go to the refugee camp, and notify the other decurions to come to the rescue! Be quick, understand?”

Releasing Chap's arm, this lean, tall young man immediately strode off with his long legs towards the refugee camp.

“Swish!”

An arrow landed precisely in front of Tomley, the crow feathers on the fletching still trembling.

“Archbishop Tomley.” Standing on a large rock on the hillside, Jeshka laughed heartily, “Tonight, for the safety of His Holiness the Pope, the gate will not be opened, please return.”

“Captain Jeshka, I didn't miss the closing time and forget to return.” Pushing away the two thugs blocking in front of him, Tomley puffed out his chest, “I'm here to eliminate evil!”

“My great Papal State's monarch is wise, the common people are healthy, the world is at peace, where does the evil come from?” Jeshka casually stroked the arrow in his hand, “Moreover, Holy Grandson is the Eye of God, how can there be villains who can deceive his eyes?”

Tomley waved his hand righteously: “His Holiness Holy Grandson is of course discerning and of noble character, but unfortunately there are villains among the common people, that person is Madelan.

He used himself as bait, luring me out of the monastery, in order to cooperate with His Holiness…

I mean, pretending to welcome His Holiness, but in reality to seize control of my great Papal State's power, please let me into the monastery to eliminate the traitor for His Holiness.”

“Madelan?” Jeshka felt like he understood something, but there was always a layer of membrane he couldn't penetrate, “Madelan didn't even enter the monastery.”

“Jeshka, let's not beat around the bush.” Tomley couldn't bear it anymore, and the fierce temperament of a smuggler was revealed again, “If Madelan didn't go in, would you be idle enough to wait for me here in the middle of the night? And gather so many guards.”

“No, no, no.” Jeshka quickly explained, “Someone notified me in advance, saying that someone wanted to assassinate His Holiness.”

“Slander!” Tomley cursed, jumping up and down, “I am as close as brothers with His Holiness, a close friend… wait, that person wouldn't be Bunian next to you, would it?”

Jeshka fell silent, he had a bad feeling.

“You still say you're not in league with Madelan, isn't his most trusted follower right next to you?”

Seeing the lights suddenly light up in the distant monastery, Tomley felt anxious, if Madelan really welcomed Horen out of the monastery, then he would be completely passive.

“Get out of the way, or I'll really have to do it.”

The latest novel is first published on Six Nine Book Bar!

Jeshka helplessly shouted: “Madelan really didn't go over, I swear on my family's honor!”

“Do…”

“Do it!”

A violent shout came from behind Tomley's group, and sixty or seventy farmers holding wooden sticks, hoes, flails, and even tables, chairs, pots, and basins rushed out.

“Eat! It's an ambush, retreat quickly!”

“I'm bleeding all over, save me! Save me!”

“We've been tricked, that Jeshka is dragging us here to kill us.”

“Steady, steady, they don't have many people.” Tomley shouted hoarsely.

Suddenly, before Tomley's group could react, Madelan used a simple back charge to break into the formation.

Sticks struck, woodcutting knives slashed wildly, and two or three unlucky people were actually cut down and smashed down.

It was a pity that only the first ten or so people in Madelan's group dared to attack, while the remaining fifty or so people stood in the back row, either beating the air or waving pots and pans.

“Kill in, save His Holiness!”

“His Holiness the Pope will reward you greatly!”

Madelan shouted anxiously.

Tomley saw Madelan emerging from behind, and looked at Jeshka standing in front with a pitchfork, he seemed to understand everything.

“Good, good.” Tomley roared, “How much credit have I contributed to the Papal State? Now there's no reward to give, so you want to kill the prey and cook the hunting dog?

Everyone, kill out, kill into the Gulag Monastery, and ask His Holiness for an explanation!”

After the initial panic, the fifty armed farmers began to rebuild their formation and counterattack Madelan and others.

“Centurion Jeshka, what do we do?”

“Charge, kill in.” Jeshka said with gritted teeth.

This misunderstanding cannot be resolved, if we stand by and watch now, this group of armed farmers will come and kill us.

“May Messiah protect, kill!”

“May the Holy Father bless me, kill!”

The Papal Guards were just fighting a brawl before, this was the first time they had seen blood, the tension in their hearts turned into battle roars, echoing in the night sky.

Walking in not-so-orderly steps, the faces of the guards were reflected red in the light of the torches, quickly rushing towards Tomley's chaotic battle.

ps There will be another chapter later, when I save some drafts on the weekend, I can send two chapters at a time.