When the Saint comes, she does not collect food.

Compared to the almost vertical mountain walls of the Gaotai Mountains, the hills at the Yier Mountain Pass are much gentler.

This is only in comparison to the Gaotai Mountains; for pedestrians, it is still steep and difficult to climb.

Between the two hills, there is a long road flanked by several vegetable fields, with wooden stakes and bare grassland on both sides of the road.

The previous grass and trees had long been taken by the mercenaries to build camps and barricades.

At the end of the long road is a checkpoint made up of spiked wooden stakes and round log barricades, with a wall as tall as a person behind the checkpoint.

On each of the hillsides, there is a watchtower.

However, at this moment, only the watchtower on the left has a sentinel on duty, leaning against the wooden post, nodding off.

It wasn't until the footsteps of the travelers shook the pillars of the watchtower that he suddenly woke up.

He was startled and quickly poked his head out of the watchtower, only to see the group of White Maple Mercenary Corps mercenaries, followed by four carriages.

The carriages were bulging, covered with canvas and ropes, with half of a fragrant cured ham leg exposed.

The leading White Maple mercenary waved at him.

"Damn mountain goat, disturbing your father's good dream."

Comfortably lying back down, the mountain sentinel continued to sleep.

Fifty White Maple mercenaries, escorting four carriages, soon arrived at the checkpoint and slowed down.

In front of the checkpoint were dense spiked wooden stakes, leaving only a two-person-wide opening for entry and exit, which was also blocked by round log barricades.

"Yo, yo, yo, isn't this our White Maple mercenaries?" A sleepy, bald mercenary stood behind the barricades, jokingly saying, "You've come to the wrong place, this is our Mountain Mercenary camp."

"Hmph, filthy, I thought so." The leading one-eyed White Maple mercenary cursed in the plains dialect, "We found carriages abandoned by the short-hairs in the mountains and want to take a shortcut through here to deliver them to Lord Belard and Lord Kleionte. Open the road immediately."

The Mountain Mercenary didn't speak, tilted his head, glanced at the carriages, and when he saw the large pig leg, his eyes lit up.

"Tsk, alas, we Mountain Mercenaries have always strictly adhered to the rules. Lord Kleionte is not here, so we can't let you pass."

The leader of the White Maple Mercenary Corps didn't say a word and turned to leave.

"Hey, hey, hey, I was just kidding, brother. You're just going to earn credit, no one can take it away. I just want a pig leg, no one will find out." The Mountain Mercenary quickly stopped them.

"Just want that pig leg?" After hesitating for a moment, the White Maple mercenary captain asked.

"I wouldn't mind if you were willing to give more."

Looking up at the sky, the White Maple mercenary captain sighed, "Okay, you move the barricades, and I'll give it to you after I pass through the gate."

"Tsk." The Mountain Mercenary rolled his eyes, nodded to his subordinates, and the servants stepped forward, laboriously moving the barricades.

Wheels rumbled, and the gate swung open.

Following behind the fragrant pig leg, the bald mercenary followed closely.

After walking two steps, he stopped, "That's not right, your carriage is full, why are the wheel tracks so shallow?"

The mercenary captain stopped, turned his head, raised his hat brim, opened his mouth, and blew a tiny short whistle.

"Doo doo doo——"

"Not good, signal..."

An iron arrow shot through the air, piercing the bald mercenary's throat, stopping his shout in his throat.

Jeshka retracted his short bow, took out his long sword, and with one sword, beheaded the leading soldier.

The "White Maple" soldiers immediately leveled their spears and charged towards the surrounding Mountain Mercenaries.

These Mountain Mercenaries are best at small-group brawling-style combat, which is very effective for suppressing rioters, but not very effective against these trained Papal State soldiers.

Moreover, their small groups had to face a large group army of 80 companies.

Seven or eight spears stabbed from all directions. No matter how good they were at street fighting, they would be directly pierced through the heart, lungs, and abdomen.

A Mountain Mercenary waved his scimitar and charged towards several Papal State soldiers. Before he could get close, two spears, one above and one below, stabbed at him.

He reached out to block the upper one and used his scimitar to deflect the lower one. When he looked up, another spear stabbed at him, leaving a bloody hole in his throat.

When the spear tip was retracted, it dripped with crimson blood.

The sharp spear tips swayed on the soft bellies. Screams and shouts instantly filled the entire camp.

At the same time, the ropes on the carriage canvas slid like small snakes. The canvas on the four carriages was lifted, and thirty companies of black-clothed skirmishers, holding short swords, jumped down from the carriages.

Then, this group of skirmishers fell to the ground in a pile.

"I told you, the ground is slippery."

"Stop complaining, let's go!"

After getting up, they gathered into a group and charged towards the gate. The Mountain Mercenaries or servants blocking the way were directly struck on the head with a sword, without pursuit or entanglement.

The skirmishers were like centipedes with swords on their legs. After they passed, the ground was full of wailing servants, caught-off-guard Mountain Mercenaries, and black-clothed skirmishers who slipped and fell because they ran too fast.

The servants were all residents who had been temporarily found nearby. They had never seen such a scene before and immediately screamed and fled in all directions.

The Mountain Mercenaries at the gate cursed the servants to close the gate, but no one listened to them, so they had to close it themselves.

With an ear-piercing creak, the gate slowly closed, and it was about to close with only a person's width left.

A skirmisher directly accelerated in three or two steps and directly stuffed his thigh into the gap between the two doors, and then half of his body squeezed through the gap.

More skirmishers reached out and grabbed the door panels from both sides and began to pry them open.

The people inside immediately used scimitars and spears to stab at the people at the door. In the sparks of the collision between short swords and spears, the gate was pulled back and forth.

"Lady Jeanna!" A skirmisher shouted.

The most recent novel is published first on the 6th 9th book bar!!

Lightning suddenly jumped, and after a flash of white light, seven or eight mercenaries inside the door instantly fell to the ground. The gate was then pried open by pairs of hands with dirt in their fingernails.

Like a Valkyrie, Jeanna, covered in lightning, rushed in holding a war flag. Raising her hand, two bolts of lightning struck down, hitting another ten or so soldiers. The Mountain Mercenaries inside the door finally couldn't bear it and began to scream and run away.

At the end of the road, bypassing the hills, more black-clothed soldiers were pouring in, lining up.

The servants had already given up on making up for the barricades, either drilling into the hills or jumping into the stream.

The intense sound finally woke up the old sentinel sleeping in the watchtower. He poked his head out from the railing and rubbed his eyes three or four times before he dared to be sure.

Didn't this group of short-hairs run behind them? Why did they appear in front again?

Without time to think, the old sentinel reached out to take the horn hanging on the side.

Perhaps he was too nervous. As soon as he got the horn in his hand, his fingers loosened, and he accidentally dropped it to the ground again.

He bent down to pick up the horn, just happy that it didn't fall downstairs, when he looked up and saw a short flail smashing down on his head.

The moment the flail contacted his forehead, white flowers appeared before his eyes, and all kinds of patterns and colors emerged.

Duvaron flipped and jumped into the watchtower, stepped on the old sentinel's stomach, took off the dagger he was holding in his mouth, gasped violently, and directly inserted the dagger into the sentinel's chest.

The intense pain made the old sentinel's face suddenly contort. He woke up and reached out to push Duvaron's shoulder.

Due to the obstruction of the clothes, Duvaron gritted his teeth and tried hard, but the knife could not smoothly cut through his chest. He was actually flipped over by the old soldier's knee.

The old soldier cried out in pain and knelt up, pulled out the dagger, and was about to stab Duvaron when a dagger extended from his throat.

"Next time, slit the throat." Rene tore open the old soldier's clothes, stabbed two knives into his back, and then said to Duvaron.

Rene tied a red cloth to a tree branch and waved it down below.

The battle in front of the camp was basically coming to an end.

Seeing that the gate had been seized and there was a witch participating in the battle, the Mountain Mercenaries immediately ignored everything and ran away with the servants.

Groups of black-clothed soldiers rushed in from the intersection, cut off the spiked wooden stakes on the ground with axes, and let the old, weak, women, and children and carriages in the rear enter.

There were only fifty people guarding the camp, while the Papal State soldiers had eighty people, and there were reinforcements, and it was a surprise attack.

Although clumsy, they still captured the camp.

When Horne led the old, weak, women, and children, Madeleine ran up like a fly to report: "Your Majesty, we've struck it rich! There are a lot of food, grass, and medicine, as well as armor and horses in their camp."

"Take the leather armor, cone helmets, and the like. Don't take the rest of the armor, it's too heavy." Horne instructed Madeleine while directing the convoy to pass quickly, "Take the horses and medicine."

"Why don't you want the iron armor?"

"It's too heavy, too heavy, and not many people can wear it. We're going to march lightly at night next. We must reach Xiangshu Village before midnight."

Finding a large rock, Horne shouted loudly: "Throw away irrelevant things, throw them away, you must throw them away. If you don't throw them away, where will there be a bright future?"

The vast citizens of the Papal State gritted their teeth, carrying bags, and almost trotted forward on the muddy ground.

"All the old, weak, women, and children get on the carriage. Throw away unimportant things. Don't feel sorry for it." Horne pulled up a woman who was picking up lamp oil on the ground and pushed her into the marching queue. "After the special race walking competition is over, what you get will definitely be greater than the loss. If it's smaller, come to me, Horne, and I, Horne, will make it up to you."

After capturing the camp, before they had time to rest, the entire Papal State transferred again in a mighty manner.

The location they were in was 362 miles away from Jeanne Fort.