When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

#45 - The one who saves you, stand on your right side!

The bright moon hung high in the blue-black sky, exhaling moonlight that turned into mist.

The luminous haze filtered through the rustling leaves, casting a layer of moonlight and shadows on the ground.

The night wind stirred the grass, catching the hems of late-night travelers. Madelaine and the others lowered their bodies, moving quickly through the layers of paths formed by the numerous shacks.

In the shadows cast by the shacks, they resembled a cluster of ghosts.

"Ah—" An unknown sound startled a refugee sleeping in the open.

He raised his head to see twenty or thirty sturdy men with wooden sticks and pitchforks cautiously advancing.

Dozens of fierce eyes swept over him as they noticed him looking up, causing him to immediately bury his head back into the hay.

The sound of footsteps gradually faded away, and the refugee dared to breathe heavily. He pulled his head out of the hay, wanting to see if those people were gone.

He was still met with dozens of menacing eyes.

The refugee rubbed his eyes, wondering how, in the blink of an eye, this group of people had changed their clothes.

They were dozens of strong, armed farmers.

They wore leather armor, wielding short weapons such as eared daggers, as well as long-handled weapons like raven's beak war hammers. Some even carried spiked flails and fishing nets.

"Boss Tonley, I think I saw a shadow over there just now."

"Stop daydreaming, move faster. We're racing against time this time."

After scolding his subordinate, Tonley led the team forward.

Among the many armed farmers and thugs, he walked at the front, protected by two of his usual thugs, followed by a line of armed farmers and his smuggling accomplices.

Many of them had been drawn from the monastery.

Thinking of this, Tonley couldn't help but feel annoyed. Quite a few armed farmers had refused to participate, citing fear of the Crown's wrath.

Did they not know that this Horned Pope was someone he had put in place?

This Gulag Papal State was being carried on Tonley's shoulders. How could they possibly have a say in what he did?

He spat a mouthful of phlegm on the ground, suppressing the frustration in his heart.

These armed farmers were closely allied. Although Tonley had been pushed forward by them and seemed like a boss, he was actually just a figurehead.

The Thousand River Valley people had long since learned their lesson. The Church always targeted those who stood out, so they pushed others to the front to protect themselves.

Among so many armed farmers, Tonley could only truly command his original smuggling circle.

Even Chilvers and Grampvin were sometimes disobedient. For example, Chilvers strongly opposed Tonley's decision this time and was even unwilling to participate in the operation.

As for Grampvin, he didn't care about anything as long as he could cure his blind wife's illness.

These two had no idea of the grand strategy in his mind!

This time, his goal was to both establish his authority with that Horned one and to test him.

Tonley had recently begun to suspect that this Horned one didn't seem like a member of the Secret Society.

Every time he mentioned something related to the Secret Society or used their jargon, our "Pope Crown" either didn't notice or just brushed it off with a laugh.

Could it be that this farmer named Horned just happened to be familiar with that witch named Jeanne and was pretending to be a member of the Secret Society?

Shaking his head, Tonley looked up again, and Madelaine's shack was already within sight.

Grabbing the others, he hid in a thicket of bushes, feeling as if he could already see the figures moving inside the shack.

"Check your weapons," Tonley ordered in a low voice.

He had done this kind of night raid countless times when he was double-crossing people in the past.

Amidst the sound of metal friction, the armed farmers and thugs each confirmed and readied their weapons.

Tonley winked, and the three most ferocious thugs picked up their spiked hammers and tiptoed towards the shack.

Standing in front of the shack's door curtain, they nodded to each other. The next second, the leader suddenly rushed in, followed by the other two.

"You bastard, die!"

"Eat my hammer!"

Loud clanging sounds quickly echoed from inside the house, accompanied by the sound of furniture breaking and a shrill scream.

"Excellent!"

Tonley had been an old smuggler for many years. He knew immediately that they had succeeded. He jumped out of the bushes with a group of thugs and rushed towards the shack.

"Aha!" Tonley lifted the door curtain, jumped into the shack, and shouted triumphantly.

He was met with silence.

What he saw was not Madelaine lying in a pool of blood, but a thug lying in a pool of blood, weakly cursing, and two companions awkwardly scratching the back of their heads.

"What's going on? Where is he?"

Frowning, Tonley slowly walked forward. The shack was small, with various bottles and jars and broken furniture scattered around.

"I don't know." The other two thugs smiled awkwardly. "We didn't see anyone when we came in, and then Second Brother suddenly screamed. I thought…"

"Carry him away, carry him away quickly," Tonley said impatiently, waving his hand like swatting a fly.

"Could he have gotten up to relieve himself?"

Tonley walked forward, reached out, and touched the broken linen cloth on the hay pile. He shook his head and said, "The bed is cold. He's been gone for a while."

"Then where did he go in the middle of the night?"

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Without answering his subordinate's question, Tonley sat down on the hay bed and fell into deep thought: "Where did he go?"

As he sat, Tonley's whole body stiffened. He suddenly raised his head, his eyes filled with horror.

"Damn it, we've been tricked!"

Madelaine fell off the bench Tonley usually slept on, still shouting, startling the prostitute wrapped in a quilt sitting on the ground.

"What tricked, Boss Madelaine, what are you talking about?" A young man in short clothes couldn't help but ask.

"You're so stupid!" Madelaine said, jumping up and down. "Tonley was just here. Didn't you hear his whore say that he was here this afternoon, stayed overnight, but now he's gone, and he left with dozens of thugs? Don't you know what that means?

Tonley must have discovered that His Crown wanted us to assassinate him, so he deliberately spread false information to lure us into attacking, to disperse our strength, and then take the opportunity to seize the papal throne!"

Flick rubbed his bulbous nose, originally wanting to object, as this theory had too many loopholes.

Tonley and his gang still needed Horned to escape, and Horned had two witch guards by his side. Tonley would have to be insane to attack Horned.

Moreover, although not explicitly stated, the shrewd old-timers like Flick could see that Horned was a scapegoat that Tonley had pushed out for the Church!

There was no reason to take the scapegoat out of the pot and jump in himself, right?

In his opinion, it was highly likely that Tonley had attacked Madelaine in advance. Maybe they could still catch him in the act if they went back now.

As for the reason, maybe the person who passed the message thought it was tonight instead of last night.

However, Flick still swallowed the words back because there was another possibility: someone had leaked the information again, which allowed Tonley to act in advance.

He couldn't help but drink some wine at noon today. Who knew what he said to whom after drinking?

Madelaine was like an ant on a hot pot at this moment. This was the first time he had done something like this, and he had no experience. He went straight down a rabbit hole.

The more Madelaine thought about Tonley assassinating the Pope, the more reasonable it seemed, and the more frightened he became. He felt like everything was connected.

No wonder, no wonder the news spread so quickly. Tonley made the decision that night, and he found out the next morning.

How could such a thing happen? Tonley was cunning and a smuggling tycoon. How could he make such a small mistake?

"Then what do we do now?" The young man in short clothes panicked at this moment.

They dared to attack Tonley because they had Pope Horned backing them. They expected Tonley wouldn't dare to go too far against them.

But if Tonley really assassinated the Pope, it would be a complete disaster for Madelaine's group.

His chest heaving violently, Madelaine felt a myriad of thoughts in his brain, and his hands and feet couldn't help but tremble.

He gritted his teeth and spat out a word from his throat: "Chase!"

"Chase?"

"Chase, we're going to save the Crown!" Madelaine picked up the flail leaning against the door. "Maybe we can stop them."

"It might be too late."

"Send someone fast to notify the Papal Guard stationed at the main gate, tell them Tonley is going to assassinate His Holiness the Pope, and they must stop him."

"Our clothes are similar. How will they know who is who?"

"Then tell them, 'Rescuers, right shoulder exposed!'"

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