When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

The damp secret passage was covered in moss, and droplets of moisture condensed in the cracks between the stone bricks, falling on people's heads.

In the narrow path, barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side, the light of the torches flickered, and the chaotic footsteps startled a large black rat that was passing by.

Four armed monks walked in the lead, followed by Durdaff, and then by the witch, who was being held by seven or eight night watch guards.

The witch was nearly six-foot-three, and a night watch guard who was just over five-foot-three was supporting her under the armpit with his shoulder, creating a lopsided, almost comical scene.

After them came three armored soldiers bringing up the rear.

"Hurry up, before they find this secret passage, tsk, hurry up, do you want me to kneel down and beg you, you bastard!"

Walking in the second row, Durdaff anxiously urged the armed monks in chain mail in front of him.

Hunched over, the usually meticulous Durdaff had only managed to grab a piece of black bread for sustenance.

The situation was urgent; the esteemed Knight Commander of the Temple hadn't even noticed when the monastery's gates were breached.

Now the monastery was teeming with people, with swords and hammers flying, and broken teeth mixed with blood swirling in the air.

The continuous shouts of killing could be faintly heard even in the tunnel.

The secret society members were turning the tables.

Durdaff knew this very well, but he also knew that these secret society members would never harm his life.

Only the radical fanatics of the secret society and the witch covens, the sworn enemies of the church, would want to kill him.

He wouldn't lose his life, but he absolutely couldn't let the secret society rescue the witch Carrie from her prison.

He was willing to concede other things, as long as his life was safe.

After all, Durdaff came from the choir and was one of "their own," so he wouldn't be severely punished.

Now was the time when Abbot Huannuo of the Blago Monastery and Archbishop Constance were fighting most fiercely, and there must be no slip-ups.

So he had arranged an escape route in advance. As soon as the revolting refugees attacked the monastery, he would directly take the witch and escape through the tunnel.

As long as he could protect this witch and the secret in her belly, it would still be a great achievement.

Looking back at the witch Carrie, who had been rendered unconscious by holy water, Durdaff felt slightly relieved.

But in the instant he turned his head, a strong gust of wind carrying moisture slammed into the tunnel, extinguishing the torches.

Spitting out rainwater, Durdaff hurriedly put on his hood: "Messiah be praised, what's going on?"

The monk who pushed open the wooden door of the secret passage held his hood on his head: "Father, the rain outside is heavy."

"It's raining heavily again?" Durdaff was a little surprised, but he gritted his teeth and continued to shout, "Never mind, let's go to the river, after this is done, there will be not only promotions, but also a reward of 50 Solas for each person!"

Emerging from the tunnel one after another, Durdaff looked up at the sky.

Dark cyan clouds completely occupied the sky, and in the rumbling thunder, the strong wind almost extinguished all the torches.

"Don't light the torches yet, let's go in the dark, don't get discovered." Wiping the rain off his face, Durdaff puffed and panted as he ran towards the river.

The remaining people surrounded him and ran towards the river as well.

Obviously, the secret society members did not expect Durdaff to have such a secret passage, and the road to the river was unobstructed.

The Honey River in the storm was turbulent, and among the water plants and black water, the reefs formed by eaves and ring trees loomed.

Arriving at the temporary pier where boats were usually moored, Durdaff's hurried footsteps suddenly stopped.

The original pier had been submerged, and half of the poplar tree used as a marker was soaked in water, and the things under the tree had disappeared.

Durdaff rubbed his eyes, but still saw nothing.

The small boat he had hidden here in advance, the five or six rafts and three ten-person longboats moored at the temporary pier, were all gone.

Lightning flashed, and with the light, Durdaff confirmed once again that this was where he had hidden the boats before, and both the hiding place and the pier were empty.

"Where are the boats?"

"Huh?"

"I'm asking you, where are the boats? Where are my boats?" Grabbing the back of one of the bald monks by the neck and dragging him in front of him, Durdaff roared into his ear.

"Where did they go?"

"Didn't you arrange it? Where did you say it was?"

"I don't know, maybe the water rose and they were washed away."

He kicked the monk hard in the tailbone, turning his face as pale as Durdaff's.

"Damn secret society, they expected that I might advance by water and collected all the nearby boats in advance." Cursing through gritted teeth, Durdaff pointed ahead.

"Go, keep looking along the river, we'll definitely find one, I don't believe they can take all the boats away."

Surrounded by a group of monks and guards, the sound of wind, rain, and shouts of killing filled his mind, making Durdaff anxious.

He was so close, just one more chance.

The seat of a canon and even the bishop's throne were beckoning to him.

At times like this, Durdaff would miss Jiluo.

Although he was just a witcher, he always arranged things properly, with almost no mistakes.

If he had known, he wouldn't have sent him out to investigate, but when it came to that matter, Durdaff was really afraid of something going wrong if he sent someone without discretion.

Along the river, Durdaff lost his shoes, his clothes were torn, and his delicate white arms were bruised.

They searched all around, but couldn't find a single boat, and the shouts of killing in the mountains were getting closer and closer.

Just as he was in despair, a night watch guard with good eyesight suddenly shouted:

"Father, look, there's a boat over there."

Wiping the rain from his eyes with a handkerchief, Durdaff looked intently, and sure enough, there was a boat parked by the river, and it was actually a longboat that could carry ten people.

In the wind and clouds, it was moving forward with difficulty, and just in front of the longboat, a simple small raft capsized in the water, and a black shadow staggered and flashed past the bushes.

"It's Jiluo's boat!" A familiar monk shouted, "Jiluo is back, great!"

Yes, Jiluo's figure was blurred in the wind and rain, but Durdaff did recognize the steel sword on his back.

"Praise the power of our Lord, thank you for helping your devout believers overcome difficulties." Drawing a "屮" on his forehead, Durdaff gratefully thanked Messiah and shouted to the others.

"Hurry, hurry, let's go over there quickly."

Durdaff lifted his wide priest's robe and stepped into the mud, stumbling towards the boat.

Coincidentally, the boat was just docking at this time.

With a never-before-seen agility, Durdaff's massive body strode across the bow in a few steps and stepped into the boat.

After he stepped onto the boat, the hull that had been swaying before instantly became as stable as flat ground.

Like a swallow returning to its nest, he swayed his fat and strode forward, hugging the "Jiluo" with the steel sword on his back tightly.

He thought he was going to fail, but he was saved by this witcher.

Durdaff's gratitude was beyond words, and he kissed "Jiluo" hard on both cheeks.

This was the highest etiquette for the French to express affection and gratitude.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Durdaff finally recovered from the feeling of excitement, but he suddenly felt something was wrong.

The feeling from his arms and the height of the person in front of him were not right.

He remembered that Jiluo was not so short, and was much stronger than the person he was holding.

A flash of lightning illuminated everything in the world.

Nose to nose, Durdaff and Horn, who were embracing each other, looked at each other in dismay.