When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

"Left, right, left! Left, right, left!"

Chanting in unison, the guards' battle formation charged towards the armed farmers in the middle of the hillside.

Their steps were sometimes synchronized, sometimes offbeat, stopping every ten or so steps to reorganize their jagged battle line.

Jeshka couldn't fathom how a seven-man squad could form such a jagged line.

While they were accelerating their charge, not yet engaged in battle, the western front was already a bloody fight for Madelan and his men.

They wildly swung their clubs and threw clumsy punches, but couldn't withstand the armed farmers' assault.

Every second, someone fell into the pool of blood, yet they didn't give in, holding out for a full ten seconds before scattering and fleeing.

But that was just the first line of defense; the atmosphere on the second line was much more harmonious.

Apart from the twenty or so armed farmers in Thomley's inner circle and his thugs, the rest of the armed farmers seemed to be fighting fiercely, but were actually just punching the air in front of each other.

Some even started giggling amidst the fighting, while others chatted as they fought.

"Fourth Uncle, is my fifth cousin getting married this year?"

"Not yet, you want to introduce someone to him?"

"No, I'm just not in a hurry since he's not married yet."

"You little rascal!"

This was no surprise, as the people of Thousand River Valley were constantly oppressed and betrayed, valuing family ties above all else, since they could rely on no one but their own kin.

Even armed farmers and their serf relatives wouldn't fall out unless absolutely necessary.

After all, fortunes rise and fall; who doesn't have times of hardship?

Janna came from an armed farmer family; when her family was wiped out by other armed farmers, wasn't it Old Gallar, a distant serf relative, who adopted her?

This had a touch of familial heroism.

But in reality, this was just the Second Law of Thousand River Valley.

The First Law of Thousand River Valley was—better to live badly than to die well.

As long as they could survive, family could wait.

"It's me, Second Uncle!"

"Thrust, thrust!"

A pitchfork pierced an armed farmer's chest, and he clutched at the three small holes, crying out in agony.

In reality, the holes were less than an inch, but the armed farmer rolled aside as if his stomach had been pierced.

The iron-blooded Papal Guards coldly stepped over him and continued forward.

Compared to the gentle fighting on the western front, the eastern front was much more intense and brutal.

After all, the armed farmers on the eastern front were facing the Papal Guards, the best army in the entire Papal States.

Not only were they well-equipped and highly trained, unbeatable throughout the Papal States, but they could even form battle formations, something only soldiers could do.

Faced with the forty-man army surging like a flood, the armed farmers who were slacking off retreated step by step, forcing Thomley to urgently transfer his elite confidants from the advantageous western front to the eastern front, six meters away.

"Hold on, hold on!"

Seven or eight thugs and armed farmers came to the front, led by the large man wielding the raven's beak warhammer.

What a magnificent man of one meter seventy, a single heavy blow knocking a one-meter-sixty Papal Guard to the ground.

The Papal Guard's advance stalled instantly, and seeing the danger, Jeshka immediately shouted, "Skirmishers, attack!"

The skirmishers, who had been guarding the flanks of the battle formation, mostly short in stature but very agile, were holding wooden pot lids.

They immediately squeezed in from both sides, rolling on the ground and frantically hacking at the shins and toes of those in Thomley's battle formation with hammers, axes, and daggers.

However, the skirmishers' daggers and axes couldn't break through the armed farmers' sturdy linen trousers, and only three or four succeeded, with one even rolling all the way down the hillside.

But this created an opportunity for Jeshka.

"Hey!"

Just as the warhammer wielder had flipped a shield-bearer's gate with his hammer, he heard a whistling sound beside his ear.

He quickly dodged to the side, but was still too slow, and an arrow pierced his face, causing him to fall backward.

"Charge, kill!"

Seeing the hammer-wielding warrior fall, the elite Papal Guards, who had been forced back by him alone, perked up.

Taking messy steps, they barely formed an arc and continued to charge towards the armed farmers.

The armed farmers became timid; that man was the bravest among them, and he had been shot down by an arrow.

They had come to fight, not to die.

Fighting didn't mean people had to die; they wouldn't do that.

"Come to the east side, everyone come to the east side!"

Thomley shouted, bringing the remaining core members from the west side, but they still retreated step by step.

Faced with the Papal Guards' high morale and the shaking pitchforks, the armed farmers actually developed a sense of awe.

Seeing the number of Thomley's core members on the west side dwindling, the armed farmers on the western front realized the danger and surrendered directly to their relatives in front of them.

They didn't even lay down their arms, just smiled and shouted, "I surrender," and stood shoulder to shoulder with their serf relatives.

Instantly, the western front achieved a great victory.

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"A great victory, a great victory!" Bunian shook Madelan, who was covered in blood and leaning against a dung heap, crying out, "We won!"

Madelan opened his blurry eyes, his vision completely stained red with blood, but he could still see—

Thomley was retreating with his entire army, and the Pope's guards were advancing towards victory!

"Great, finally, finally, victory!"

Madelan's eyes were full of tears, and after shouting the slogan of victory, he tilted his head and fainted.

"What's going on? What's going on again? Wasn't everything fine before?"

Not far from the dung heap, Danji hurried over.

Barefoot on one foot, Danji rode his horse, and seeing this chaotic scene, he felt his head wasn't enough; what exactly was happening?

"Sanpo, let's go over there!"

Danji shouted at his servant, but the servant holding the horse didn't move.

"What are you doing? Let's go over there quickly; everyone is a bishop of the Papal States, how can they fight like this in front of the Papal Palace?"

"No!" Sanpo still stubbornly resisted.

Danji jumped off his horse and tried to snatch the reins from Sanpo, but Sanpo wouldn't let go.

"Let go."

Pushing Sanpo away, Danji stepped on the stirrup and was about to mount his horse, but Sanpo grabbed his waist.

"Lord Danji, don't get involved in the factional struggle between Madelan's faction and Thomley's faction; you are a member of the Knights of the Guard, and it's a great taboo for the Temple Knights to interfere in politics!"

"What factional struggle, it's obvious they're fighting!"

Pulling at Danji's pants and clothes, Sanpo shouted anxiously, "Can't you see? This is a political struggle between two bishops; it's a big mess, you can't win against them."

"You've been brainwashed by court conspiracy stories? Those are all fake, let go of me!"

"Dong, dong, dong—"

Distant chimes rang from the bell tower, and Sanpo and Danji stopped at the same time, looking towards the gate.

The previously closed gate burst open, and under the protection of Janna and twenty or so child soldiers holding spears, Horne walked out of the shadow of the gatehouse.

In the moonlight, the bloodstains on the child soldiers' spears were clearly visible.

"Electricity, come!"

Witnessing the chaotic scene before him, Horne shouted violently.

"Boom!"

A lightning bolt as thick as an arm struck in front of everyone, scorching the ground.

As the electricity dissipated, many people's body hair and hair stood on end.

They stopped their movements and turned towards the direction of the lightning.

There, His Holiness the Pope wore a holy robe embroidered with crooked gold threads, and on his head, he wore a papal tiara hat as long as an elbow.

"Thomley, do you know your crime?"