Chapter 11 Gulag Monastery


Chapter 11 Gulag Monastery

“Bread is coming again, brothers!”

A refugee with a dirty face held up the mold-filled black bread in his hand to show off to his companions .

“Why is it so early today?”

“Go quickly, it’s too late if you don’t go.”

A group of refugees scrambled up from their huts or under trees, and ran toward the monastery in a messy manner, like urine flowing into the low-lying areas in several paths when defecating.

This is the Gulag Monastery in Hedge Township. It lies on a higher ground. Whenever floods come, the clergy will hide here to take shelter.

Surrounding the monastery are countless gray and black mushroom-like grass nests. A wooden frame covered with thatch can already be regarded as a small nest to keep out the rain.

In the refugee sheds, quarrels over food, porcelain, or theft broke out from time to time. Less than five steps away, soldiers wearing chainmail and red and white square smocks were chatting with each other as if nothing happened. patrol.

“…rewards are offered for clues about those who participate in the secret party, cultists, witch descendants and other devil believers. Those who provide information will receive 50 dinars and ten loaves of bread…”

On the top of the stone mill, a black-robed monk held a vertical scroll and loudly recited the reward order that no one paid any attention to.

The numb refugees walked around the stone mill and headed towards the relief shed with difficulty.

They must hurry up. If they arrive late, they will be gone. The food that Bishop Duldaf puts out every day is only enough for one-fifth of the people.

Behind the shed is the tall Gulag Monastery.

The thin rain and mist blurred the outline of the monastery, washing away the gaps between the square stones, and the thin columns and spiers of the flight gallery swayed in the mist and rain.

Raindrops fell on the mosaic windows under the semicircular arches, drawing irregular traces.

On the second floor of the monastery, there is a scripture copying room called the "dining room", which is the place where Bishop Durdafo prays.

Compared with the corpse odor and musty smell in the rain outside, the copy room is filled with the aroma of roast chicken, honey wine and white bread.

Volumes of books are displayed on the bookshelves, gathering dust. Chic carvings and exquisite tapestries can be seen everywhere on the walls on both sides. In order to show the glory of Myrcella, they are made of gold, platinum and amber. The cross-frame is naturally indispensable.

In the copy room, the sloping copy table has disappeared, replaced by a large rectangular flat copy table, which shows the shape of the bishop's daily work on writing documents.

On both sides of the copy desk, two figures sat face to face.

“Ah?” The demon hunter Gilo, who had just reached his butt on the stool, suddenly stood up, “Master Priest, are you sure that is the knight you know? A corpse that has been soaked in water for too long will swell. , Could it be that he made a mistake?”

Sitting opposite the witcher is the priest of the Hedge Country, Father Dardufo. He is wearing a small round hat and has a smile in his folds. His narrowed eyes often make it difficult to see clearly.

Puffing the roasted chicken leg into his mouth and slapping the table with dissatisfaction with his fat palms, Durdafer said inarticulately: "It's impossible to admit his mistake. Before the flood, he often came to my place. He came to discuss matters with me. There are many of us who know him. I identified him with Liu Ying who is familiar with him. "

"Myrcella," he took a sip of the honey wine. Shocked, the white-haired demon hunter made a cross on his forehead with his finger, "It's such a pity that such a nobleman was killed."

"May his soul find eternal peace in the arms of the Holy Father." Dardufo coughed, "But the problem is that he did not die a natural death summoned by the Lord, but died an unexpected death. Have you checked his body? ?"

"After checking, I think it was a mob riot, because there were hundreds of wounds on his body, all stabbed by different people."

"A mob riot? Knight Knight has the third level of Knight Breathing and a Master Armor. He once fought against vampire pirates in the Zealand Islands and has rich experience. He is not a rookie knight." Dardufo shook his head slowly.

The Knight's Breathing Technique has always been the secret for the noble group to suppress civilians, but the number of stages of the Breathing Technique is only the upper limit of combat effectiveness and does not represent the real combat performance.

A rookie knight with five stages of breathing is very likely to be killed by an experienced knight with three stages of breathing. This has a lot to do with combat experience, weapons, armor and skills.

"It might be a monster, it might be a robber, or there is another possibility."

Dardufo paused briefly, and Gilo's heart trembled.

"The Secret Party and the Witch." Dardufo stopped stuffing food into his mouth, and a look of disgust appeared on his face, as if saying this name was a stain.

"Witch?" His face was serious and steady, but the end of Gilo's voice was a little shrill and out of tune.

"This is just a possibility, I didn't say it must be." Not noticing Gilo's abnormality, Dardufo spread his hands, "I don't believe this is just a mob uprising, there may be some secret. The Party and the Witch stir up trouble.”

"Why?"

"Oh, Gilo, my old friend, you should know that there is a dangerous witch imprisoned in our dungeon. She is not alone. She can hide in Upper River County. I have been here for five years, and I don’t believe she has no accomplices.”

Standing up, the flame of the silver candlestick swayed in the wind, Dardufo walked to Gilo’s side, raised his index finger and waved heavily. Next: "Barnett's death must be the work of the witch! It must be the conspiracy of the secret party!"

Jiro clamped his legs tightly and tried not to urinate.

“So, Gilo Don Camado, in the name of Myrcella, I entrust you with this sacred and dangerous task to find out the cause of Barnet’s death. I have blocked the news, In case someone gives them a tip, when the rain stops, you can take a boat over to find out the situation there, and I will allocate a group of people to you." Gilo was speechless, his voice was stuck. In his throat, he could only nod numbly.

"Well! Then I'll leave this matter to you."

Darduf looked at the cold hunter in front of him who showed no emotion or anger, and had two scars running through his right eye. The devil is very satisfied.

Among the majority of gamblers, drunkards and demon hunters he has seen, this Gilo is considered the most reliable.

If Duldaf can get a promotion this time, it might be a good idea for the two of them to continue working together.

He turned around and took out a bottle of expensive wine produced by Chuck Abbey from the cabinet behind him. He also took two bone china wine cups and poured a glass for himself and Gilo respectively.

"Okay, don't be so sad, come and have a drink. You have made two consecutive meritorious services, which is enough for you to be promoted to Wolfsburg." Dardufo raised his wine glass towards Gilo, "Wait a minute When you come back, I will write you a promotion report, toast! (meaning cheers in Al language)"

"Toast!" Ji Luo drank the cup without any taste.

With a faint smell of urine, Gilo left.

After Gilo left, a hook-nosed monk entered the door immediately.

He looked back at Gilo who was leaving, looked at Durdafo who was frowning, and asked in a low voice: "Master, that Barnett is just a country knight, does he need to be so concerned?"

"What do you know? Get out!"

With his stomach full of iodine, Duldaf walked back and forth in the copy room twice before finally making a decision.

"Floods, famines, the secret party of witches, it's been such a troubled time."

Looking at the red circle on the wall calendar, Dardufo put on a t-shirt embroidered with geometric shapes of triangles and vines. Delicate cloak.

After walking out of the door of the copy room, calling two armed monks and two guards, Dardufo opened the small door behind the corridor, raised the torch, walked through the dank moss stairs, and entered the dark dungeon.

The light from the torch made the dungeon a little warmer.

A few mosquitoes and flies were flying in the air. Behind the solid iron railing, a slender and tall figure huddled in the corner.

"Witch!" A guard knocked on the iron railing.

The figure did not respond.

Through the gap between the iron bars, a gentle smile bloomed on Dardufo's face: "Witch, I ask you for the last time, where did that thing go? As long as you tell me, although I can't let you go, I can let you go. Live a comfortable life in prison."

No response.

"This is the last chance I give you, don't be ungrateful."

The witch with her back to them still ignored them.

"Is she still alive?" Dardufo asked the guard on the side.

The guard took off the whip hanging on the wall, held the whip, put his hand through the gap in the iron railing, and swung it violently through the iron railing with a miraculous skill.

“Pa—”

After the explosion-like sound of being slapped on the flesh, the body instantly straightened up, covering the area hit by the whip and letting out a suppressed “Oh” in the throat. "No" cried out in pain.

"You are the son of a witch!" The guard was about to ask for credit, but was kicked on the waist by an armed monk on the side. "Didn't you see that the priest is here? If the flesh and blood were shot out this time, What should I do if the priest is infected?"

The guard smiled and threw the whip into the bucket of holy water.

"Still uncooperative?" Dardufo continued to say to the witch with a smile, but still received no response.

"Okay." After a long silence, Dardufo completely lost his patience. His slender eyes cast a malicious light: "Be under strict supervision during this period. As soon as the rain stops, we will give it to you." She poured ten times the holy water into her and turned her into a fool. Huh, what a waste!”

Knocking on the railing again, Dardufo’s face showed an unseen evilness.

"I gave you a chance, witch, you better think about it again. I won't come down to see you again before the rain stops."

Torches and footsteps Gradually going away, until this moment, in the dark corner of the dungeon, a pair of red eyes slowly opened.

(End of this chapter)

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