Jinhe Town, near Monkulus Manor.
On the flat ground of Flattening Grain Valley, surrounded by countless golden wheat fields and rice fields, a wooden platform over a ter high was erected.
After three days of heavy rain, with the arrival of the theatrical troupe, a rare sunny day finally ca.
The hot wind stirred, causing fine beads of sweat to roll down the foreheads of many villagers under the cool canopy.
Yet they didn’t wipe them off, but instead focused intently, afraid of missing even a bit of what was happening on the stage.
On the stage, Grampwen, playing Master Bishop, stood on the wooden fra of a fake monastery, holding a Longsword pointing at the Naless Monk blocking the road.
The voice of rage mixed with fear on his face was portrayed vividly by Grampwen.
"Damn it, why?"
The Naless Monk raised the grass fork in his hand: "Why, indeed? I’ve been pondering this as well. Perhaps it’s because they’re still too young, or perhaps I’ve grown old, unable to bear the sound of children’s crying."
"Clear the road!"
"Impossible."
"Then prepare to die!"
This scene depicts the Naless Monk blocking Master Bishop’s pursuit after allowing the orphans to escape.
Seeing this part perford, Juer Dan imdiately whispered to the Black Hat Army maintaining order beside him: "Get ready, it’s starting."
For nobles accustod to high-class theater, these actors’ performances might seem too crude and awkward.
But for villagers who’ve never left the village in their lives, it offered incomparable allure, especially since the previous scenes had already engaged them deeply.
"Ya ei!"
The silver-painted wooden longsword clashed against the grass fork, and after several rounds of sluggish and awkward combat display, the Naless Monk was knocked down by the Bishop.
"Attention!" Juer Dan imdiately led the War Monks guarding towards the front of the stage.
As expected, the mont the Naless Monk fell, the villagers erupted, and many of them panicked and scread.
Seeing the Longsword about to plunge into the Naless Monk’s chest, the villagers stood up in rage, picking up stones to hurl at the Bishop.
In an instant, over a dozen stones were thrown at Master Bishop on the stage, several of which actually hit Grampwen.
Luckily, Grampwen was prepared; his Bishop hat was lined with iron plates, and he wore thin iron armor under his spacious robe.
Having been pelted several tis before, with two actors previously injured, he naturally ca fully armored.
"We’re acting, don’t throw stones!"
"Disturbers, get out!"
The Black Hat Army held up shields confiscated from Knights, blocking the stones and scolding the young villagers who threw them.
Upon hearing they might be expelled, the villagers quietly sat back down, nervously watching the scene on stage.
Perhaps the stones they threw had an effect, for Master Bishop was pierced through the heart by the Naless Monk’s grass fork just as he was about to bring down the Longsword.
The two perished together, and the orphans successfully fled.
Despite mourning the Naless Monk’s death, the villagers under the canopy imdiately cheered.
But at this mont, the backstage crew made "tuk tuk" hoof sounds by knocking on barrels, and the Master Knight appeared, riding a wooden horse on wheels.
While the fake mountain boards and forest on the stage backdrop constantly retreated, even though the Child Soldiers portraying orphans only stomped in place, they still managed to convey a sense of pursuit.
As the farrs and their wives under the canopy shouted anxiously, one by one, the orphans were either captured or killed on the spot.
Every ti an orphan was slain, in the farrs and wives’ eyes, it was akin to their own lost children being killed.
At the climax, nearly all the orphans were slaughtered; only poor Tess was left, kneeling and desperately praying for the Holy Father’s arrival.
"Unclean one, the Holy Father will never forgive you!" the actor playing the Knight shouted angrily and charged at the little girl.
"Get back from her!"
"Get away!"
Seven or eight frantic farrs rushed out of the canopy, followed by another twenty or thirty villagers, a step slower.
They moved too quickly, breaching the Black Hat Army’s line of defense; one old farr even unexpectedly leapt onto the stage.
The Knight was frightened and prepared to flee, but the old farr moved too fast, his eyes maddened nearly to the point of tearing, yet tears stread from the corners.
"I will never forgive you!"
Shouting, he punched the Knight actor’s nose, breaking his nasal bone with a crisp sound; the actor scread and nearly fell off the fake horse.
The villagers below cheered repeatedly; backstage, Grampwen, having just removed his hat and wiped off makeup, had to return to stage with the actor portraying the Naless Monk.
They donned the fake monk’s robe again and stepped forward to hold the old farr’s arm, stopping him from further attack.
Seeing that the situation was getting out of hand, the minstrel nearby had a quick idea to save the scene, and loudly recited an improvised narration:
"...Seeing the knight about to kill Tess, a passing peasant couldn’t bear it any longer and stepped forward to deliver a heavy punch to the knight...
However, the knight was not one to be trifled with, so he imdiately summoned two temple knights to hold down this brave passing peasant...
Could it be that they are about to et their demise here? Poor Tess, poor farr... Oh, look, what is that, the Salvation Army is coming! Saint Joan is coming!"
The backstage crew imdiately simulated the sound of lightning with the friction of leather, and the Saintess nad Joan in the play finally arrived, pronounced a declaration of judgnt, and summoned lightning to strike down the knight.
At the sa ti, two Black Hat Army mbers climbed onto the stage, pretending to fire guns at the two actors who were stopping the old farr.
"Bang bang!"
Two simulated firing sounds of spring-loaded guns, Grampwen sensibly fell heavily to the ground, crushing the red dye in his hand.
The villagers instantly cheered jubilantly, while the old farr was escorted off the stage by the rest of the Salvation Army.
More than ten actors and backstage staff all took the stage, bowed to the cheers of the villagers, and then exited in an orderly manner.
Next, the stage was turned over to a fervent priest from the Saint Father’s Association, followed by several knights and a steward, one of whom was none other than Decrama.
According to the procedure, after the play, complaint, and public trial, the knight’s head would be sacrificed to the heavens, followed by the final stage — land distribution.
It must be said that this tactic of pre-setting a story, followed by monks revealing the truth and then capitalizing on the fervor to execute and redistribute land, was quite effective.
Even though so villagers might feel regret afterward, since the person had been publicly tried and executed in a fit of collective excitent, they could only follow the Salvation Army to the end.
Most of the villagers still awoke and, especially among those most oppressed, appeared an almost fanatical admiration for the Salvation Army converts.
In their mouths, the Holy Trinity was no longer the Holy Father, Holy Tree, and Saint Master, but the Holy Father, Saint’s Grandson, and Saintess, after all, favor skips a generation.
In this family on Paradise Mountain, the sequence of whom the Holy Father favors is simply their worldly ranking, isn’t it?
This being said, the Saint’s Grandson’s status is far above that of the Pope; it was fortunate that they chose to overthrow the Thousand River Valley Church rather than killing the Pope.
However, due to the explosive final appearance of the Saintess, the local villagers in Jinhe Town still revered Saint Joan more.
In the backstage dressing tent, Fuchev, who played Tess, changed out of her tattered clothes and into her usual fitting long clothes and pants.
Unlike the noble preference for bagginess of this era, under Horn’s influence, the Salvation Army favored more form-fitting clothing for ease of movent.
Fuchev was originally a mber of the Child Soldiers, but her personality didn’t fit Lubyanka’s atmosphere.
So under René’s arrangent, she transitioned to beco an actor, bringing seven or eight other Child Soldiers who didn’t adapt to Lubyanka to act as extras in the Blue Blood Orphanage play.
Washing away the makeup with the basin of clean water, Fuchev looked at the reflection, a delicate and docile face.
Few could remain indifferent when seeing this docile face in distress.
But at this mont, there was a barely noticeable confusion on the face in the reflection.
Compared to René and the others who truly eliminated enemies of the Pope Country, could what she was doing really be considered contributing to the Pope Country?
Before she could think of an answer, the face in the reflection suddenly grew serious.
Fuchev sidestepped and withdrew a short sword from the table, shouting toward the door, "Who is it?"
Although Fuchev had transitioned from the Child Soldiers to an actor, this didn’t hide her training.
The curtain lifted, and an old farr with a face full of wrinkles stood nervously at the door, twistedly pressing his hat to his chest, "Miss Tess, you, hello, I am Sote, public register farr Sote."
Fuchev recognized him and relaxed slightly, "Are you the one who rushed onto the stage before?"
The old farr Sote lowered his head in sha, "I didn’t know, I didn’t react at the ti..."
"It’s nothing, they’re used to getting beaten a bit wherever they go." Fuchev sat down on a chair, smiling as she looked at him, "What brings you here to see ?"
At this ti, Fuchev still held the short sword in her hand.
The old farr looked at Fuchev, his eyes filled with rembrance and yearning, "Miss Tess, did orphans really escape from the monastery?"
Fuchev was stunned for a second, seeing Sote’s hopeful and anxious eyes, she opened her mouth with difficulty, "Based on our investigations, I have to tell you... there probably are."
"..." After a silence of at least ten seconds, Sote finally put his hat back on, "Sorry to disturb you, Miss Tess."
With head bowed, Sote walked from the backstage to the front of the stage, then to the edge of the crying-filled cold shed, silently sitting beside his sobbing wife, Hikore.
"Sote, where did you go?"
"Hikore, I’m going to enlist."
"You? Enlist? You are almost forty!" Hikore exclaid.
Old farr Sote raised his head, blocking Hikore’s persuasive words in her mouth; she had never seen such a Sote.
This timid old farr, twenty years after losing his only daughter, showed a gaze as if ready to devour.
"Truth, I have co to understand it all completely!"
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