When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

#618 - Emergency Martial Law in Nitan Township

Since Ansel left alone on a small donkey last night, the rain, though intermittent, has been gradually increasing.

Bryson had to admit that Ansel's sugar and salt water method actually worked; dysentery, which even precious herbs couldn't cure, was being held at bay by this simple sugar and salt water.

Looking at the little girl lying in bed breathing steadily, Bryson felt a hint of admiration.

Larol's little daughter's will is truly strong; she actually managed to hold on. Although she hasn't improved, at least she hasn't deteriorated.

However, in Bryson's opinion, given the current situation, she won't last much longer.

With dark circles under his eyes, Bryson greeted Larol, put on his cloak, and left his small yard.

This wasn't because he was seeking enjoyment and hoping to slack off at the village church, but because old Lafer had just brought a message saying that there was something important to tell the villagers.

Larol was obviously unable to leave, and Bryson was afraid that Henderson would plot something, so he had to go and see.

As for whether they would lure him over and set a trap for him, that was beyond Bryson's consideration.

What a joke, did they really think the Scythe Brotherhood was established for nothing?

Soon, Bryson arrived at the granary of Adrian Manor from Larol's house.

More precisely, the mountain people were gathered in the granary next to the field.

Since it rained in South Mound County in September, the harvested wheat couldn't be threshed, so the mountain people's manors would build several large empty granaries specifically for threshing in the rain.

At this moment, nearly half of the entire manor's almost 500 people had come, whether adult laborers or young men and women; there were basically over 300 people present.

By the time Bryson braved the rain to arrive, Henderson had already finished his opening remarks, and a brown-haired youth with greasy hair was speaking with a mournful face.

Bryson hadn't gotten close when old Lafer pulled him aside: "How's little Tully doing?"

"Her life is being sustained by sugar and salt water; she'll be fine for the time being." After speaking to old Lafer, Bryson was able to turn his attention back to the youth in the center of the granary.

But as soon as he heard, his previously scattered gaze suddenly tensed.

"...Headman Khalid didn't commit any crime at all; why arrest him? Just because he said a few fair words, that itinerant monk became angry and summoned the army..."

"...You don't know, those damn black-clad soldiers kicked open doors one by one along the road, forcibly dragging everyone out onto the street, regardless of whether our wives or children were dressed..."

"...The weather is so cold, and it's even raining; many people have gotten sick..."

"...We sat naked on cold benches, and burly soldiers pressed our faces against rough tables, forcing us to put our fingerprints on contracts..."

"Many people burned the contracts that night, and those lackeys who spoke for the army were also severely taught a lesson by the angry farmers, but it was useless; the lackeys were instead appointed as headmen..."

Bryson had heard Ansel repeatedly grumbling about impeaching that incompetent product of the fourth-term accelerated training class of the child army from the neighboring Cosland Manor.

He had anticipated that there would be chaos on the Mason Manor side and knew that, with the habits of the Black Champion vagrants, they would not give the villagers a good face.

But he didn't expect them to go so far; this completely broke the rules.

Calming himself, Bryson continued to listen.

"...After signing the perpetual lease, the headmen and forest rangers of several manors were either dismissed or fled. We were attacked by wolves, monsters, and bandits three or four times."

"We went to the knight for help, wanting him to hire a monster hunter or lead a team to clear out those monsters, wolves, or bandits, but the knight said: After signing the perpetual lease, it's none of his business."

Hearing this, Bryson couldn't help but retort: "Don't you have itinerant monks? Go to the itinerant monks or the higher-level monasteries!"

"We were desperate, so we did go." The youth cried out, "But those armies couldn't hire monster hunters, and they couldn't stay in the village permanently. By the time they arrived, the bandits or wolves had already run away."

"Don't interrupt." Henderson shouted impatiently at the crowd; he couldn't tell who was speaking. "Continue."

Old Lafer desperately tugged at Bryson's clothes, telling him not to show off.

The youth continued to speak listlessly about what had happened: "...Those monks kept saying it was for our own good, but just because we shouted for Headman Khalid on the roadside, they forcibly pushed our people away..."

"...Even children and women were pushed over and injured. We refused to accept it and went to reason with them, hoping they would give us compensation and justice, but they indiscriminately fired Devil's Wind at us..."

"God!"

"Is that the alchemical crossbow we saw last time?"

"What alchemical crossbow? That's Devil's Wind!"

"How could this happen?"

On the large threshing ground in the manor, there were bursts of exclamations, almost shaking the dust and thatched straw off the granary next to it.

Bryson felt as if a thunderclap had exploded in his ears, and he froze on the spot. The Salvation Army actually fired at the mountain people?

This was a terrible thing. If the mountain people had already risen up, that would be fine, but if... if...

Shaking his head to clear this terrible thought from his mind, Bryson's calf muscles actually began to cramp, and his hands in his sleeves trembled slightly.

"What happened then?" the mountain people asked.

"On the spot, seven or eight people fell, and everyone went crazy, rushing up..."

"Did you kill all those black-clad soldiers?" A mountain man saw the youth stop again and couldn't help but urge him.

The youth took a sip of water before continuing, "How dare we? Wouldn't that be slapping Princess Melia in the face?

We snatched their alchemical crossbows and captured them, except for those who tried to escape and fired, who were hanged. The rest were locked up in the knight's castle dungeon.

We also wanted to severely punish the itinerant monk of Cosland Manor, but he actually ran away in advance. There was nothing we could do, so we caught his assistant monk, who was also a mountain man, and hanged him..."

Before the youth could finish speaking, the other villagers who knew the whole story began to whisper to each other, and there were even bursts of arguments about the Church of the Holy Father.

"That's the situation." Headman Henderson cleared his throat and stood up. "The knights of the Mason parish have all responded to the uprising. All the itinerant monks and assistant monks in the parish have been arrested or hanged.

Several earls have expressed sympathy and proposed to meet with the county magistrate to explain the situation, while the three township constables have remained neutral and silent. The Hermastone Regional Knightly Order has declared that it will not participate.

Everyone, including Knight Adrian, the knights of various manors have jointly issued an emergency curfew order, setting up roadblocks on all avenues, blocking rivers and roads, and not allowing any mountain people to leave the manor at will.

The Mire Township Monastery must investigate. Until the investigation results are given, the emergency curfew will continue."

Compared to the previous noise, the granary square was now silent after hearing Henderson's words. Even the sound of Bryson swallowing was so clear.

Unknowingly, everyone's gazes turned, shifting from the youth who brought the news to Bryson, who was covered in cold sweat.

Completely different from the friendliness when spinning yarn and paying wages, it became hesitant, fearful, and angry.

In their minds, the face of Monk Ansel was sometimes an angel holding wool, silver coins, and scales, and sometimes a red-faced, black-horned demon holding an alchemical gun with a sarcastic smile.

"Monk Bryson." Henderson slowly walked from the crowd to Bryson, asking kindly, "I want to ask, does Monk Ansel know about such a big thing? Where is he now?"

Bryson forcefully suppressed his pounding heart and replied in a wavering voice, "Monk Ansel went to the church to get medicine for the Larol family."

"Just because of a little girl with dysentery? Bothering Monk Ansel to flee overnight to the parish church to get medicine?" Henderson's voice gradually turned from calm to fierce. "Don't tell me he's notifying the army to suppress us?"

"No, it's not!" Bryson was suddenly overwhelmed and couldn't help but stammer, but in the eyes of the other mountain people, this was guilt.

The more Bryson explained, the louder the mountain people's discussions became. Although there were wool party members mediating and explaining, even within the wool party, there were different voices.

"Alright." Henderson felt that he had once again grasped the manor's power of speech, and a smile appeared on his face. "Since you said Monk Ansel went to get medicine, he must be very tired. How about you go to the village entrance to welcome him?"