The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 719 Ch.718 Jerez

The journey from Newquay to London is not an easy one, and it is also the end of life that the scholar is unaware of.

——He received a letter from the Queen, saying that a 'powerful' person would be sent to ensure his safety.

The group arrived ahead of schedule.

They took a train for two days and two nights, and then a horse carriage for another day and night.

When he arrived in Cornwall, Fernandez was almost shrunk - his body, which had been repeatedly tossed and stirred, looked like a corpse just dug out of a coffin, his spirit was listless, and his legs were sore.

The remaining three were in high spirits.

The blade rarely shows signs of fatigue because of the road; Roland does so because of blood (organs) or the great ceremony.

As for Shandel...

tonic?

Cornwall.

A traditional, windy and rainy port fishing village.

Low stone houses stretched along the road. Women and children were washing and pickling fish by the roadside or outside their houses, leaning against haystacks. Their husbands had not yet returned home.

It was a sunny day when Roland and his party arrived.

"If the railroad could be built all the way here, we wouldn't have to take a horse-drawn carriage anymore."

Captain Bear rubbed his butt and grumbled:

“Where do our taxes go?”

Roland: "I must remind you, Captain. We are exempt from taxation."

Fernandez: ...

"That little money shouldn't be taxed anyway," Fernandez muttered, glancing at Roland, "It's you businessmen who should be taxed heavily."

Roland sighed, "I originally thought that I should give my beloved captain a share of the perfume..."

Fernandez shrugged, “…but you have a sacred duty and many tax exemptions are justified.”

Blade laughed so hard that he touched Shandel: "Look at the two of them! The power of the country cannot be allowed to be taken by people like this!"

Shandel smiled.

Roland and Fernandez have been doing this for a long time.

One really dares to give, but the other won’t take it.

"The letter said that the ship would arrive in three days at most."

The sailboat carrying the target would stop at the Cornish port for half a day to replenish fresh water and food, and would not stop again until it drifted into the Royal Dock - in other words, the person who assassinated Darwin could only act in two places.

Either in the town, or after sneaking onto the ship, the assassination was carried out in the cabin.

Since they didn't know who the unlucky guy assigned to assassinate was or which road he would take, there was no need for Fernandez and Blade to set any traps - they wouldn't have stopped him anyway.

When the time comes, I'll just pretend to block a few attacks...

Once the target dies, they will end the mission immediately.

"Hopefully it's the Maelstrom."

Fernandez mentioned it, and then wondered, "What about that group of 'ancient pure waste'?"

It refers to the secret party headed by Chloe and Hever, who have always been against the Inquisition and the Royal Gray Party.

Before leaving, Enid warned them:
Perhaps they deliberately sent the ritualists to 'protect' Darwin - as long as this man arrived in London, conflict would be inevitable.

Rather than saying that the assassins are their enemies, it is better to say that the protectors are.

Anyone who protects Darwin except them will die.

"Let's go meet our brothers first."

Fernandez said.

There is a little church in Cornwall - or, let's be honest, any church in a seaside town - where the All-Father's gifts are less direct than those of the whirlpool nature walker who can bless you with good luck.

Roland met this 'brother' in a local chapel.

Mr. Herez.

"Pastor? The pastor is fucking dead, Devinson. The last idiot was sent here, and he hung out with those sailors all day. He got drunk last summer and insisted on going to the stable to see what's going on..." Executor Herez had a stormy head of semi-long brown hair, a high nose bridge, deep eyes and a wide mouth.

Cursing, he led the group through the corroded and peeling outer wall, the crooked crosses and the clotheslines of crimson long-collared robes hanging to dry, and walked around in twists and turns into the inner hall.

"Dead? Trampled to death by a horse?"

The captain had an incredible expression on his face.

It was the first time he had heard of a priest from the Holy Cross being trampled to death by a horse.

"It would be better if he was trampled to death," Jerez spat and wiped it with the sole of his shoe, "He was not trampled to death."

He said.

"He died of a ruptured intestine."

The two ladies present covered their lips at the same time.

The two of them understood, but Roland and Fernandez were still confused.

"What? Who assassinated him?"

Jerez scratched his messy hair, unable to say anything about this dirty thing.

In short, after that, the church never sent anyone to Cornwall - only he, an executioner of the Inquisition, was left to stay in this coastal town.

"Speak for me, brother. Speak to our chief judge and ask him to give him a little more allowance if he doesn't want to be transferred back to London."

They are immersed in the smell of fish all year round, the food is monotonous and the life is extremely poor.

How can it compare with the city of London?

Fernandez patted the other man on the shoulder and said, "Do this job well, and I'll go back and speak for you."

Jerez is not a gifted ritualist.

No talent, no luck.

He worked so hard, but he was only a second-level...

No deposit yet.

Whether awake or asleep, neither side is doing well.

"I feel sorry for you, Jerez." Fernandez sat on two palm-sized stone blocks and listened to the complaints of this messy-haired brother - he said he didn't want to stay in Cornwall anymore and said that if there was no transfer order, he would "find his own way out"...

I'm afraid it's the 'wanderer'.

"I'm not hiding it from you. Some businessmen have approached me and asked me to go on their ships. Second Ring, I think it could be of some use."

Jerez sighed.

"But I am an executioner. I took an oath when I joined the Inquisition. Even if I really leave, I need the consent of the Chief Judge. But if the Chief Judge can look at me and give me a chance, why should I leave the Inquisition?"

The identity of an executive officer is much more useful than a 'merchant's bodyguard'.

"…My parents died at the hands of the cultists. Even if there is a slight possibility, I am unwilling to take off my cult uniform. My brothers and sisters, even if there is a slight possibility."

"But look at what kind of life I lead."

"The church sent a priest who loves horses, but the Inquisition has not received a single letter in all these years. Wild dogs from the Great Whirlpool are running rampant in the town. Without the Holy Sacrifice, there are no cultists to catch, no ritualists, and no chance..."

"I don't have any savings either." Roland replied suddenly, but Fernandez responded with a look that said 'now is not the time to be humorous'.

The rest is understandable.

But an executive shouldn't have to live in poverty.

Jerez grinned and drew a circle around his body with his fingers: "You don't think the church paid for the renovation of this place?"

The more Fernandez listened, the more silent he became.

He remained silent because he knew what Herrez said was true.

Enid didn't care much about the bailiff's life or death. The farther she got from London, the more unlucky she became.

As he was speaking, there was a sudden commotion at the door.

Jerez took out a pocket watch with broken glass and slapped his forehead.

"I almost forgot the time."

(End of this chapter)