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Now reading: Chapter 652 612: Drag, just drag from When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist, a Fantasy novel by Young Little Pineapple.

"So far, there are already 30 households that have joined that Scythe..."

"Smack—" Before Henderson could finish speaking, his face was slapped hard.

In the Hunter's Hut amidst the autumn rain, a dark red brazier was burning, and Adrian sat by the simple walnut table, sprawled out.

"You said you could stop these monks, you've stopped them ti and ti again, has it been useful? Did it work?"

Adrian no longer had the cheerfulness and honesty he showed in front of Ansel, his eyes even reflecting the red light of the brazier, making him look as somber and nacing as an eagle.

"Just these two people, even Bryson can toy with you, do you still think he's on your side? Can you stop them?"

With his face swollen, Henderson mumbled bitterly, "Your Excellency, it's really very blue! They..."

"Just these two people, and it's still hard? Aren't you ashad?"

Henderson looked pained, "No, Your Excellency, he's giving money to those foolish peasants. If I had money, I would give it too, but I don't have that much money. I really don't know how to stop it."

Tilting his head back and closing his eyes, Adrian inhaled and exhaled several tis through his nose before slowly opening his eyes, "Uncle Henderson, we are family, right? I even held your son. I was there to toast at your wedding with your wife."

Henderson's expression turned cold, trembling as he replied, "Yes, yes..."

"Alright, tell your son to take this letter to Mason District, and then stay there; don't co back."

Shaking all over for a mont, Henderson suppressed his fear and nodded, "Now, is it a bit early to start?"

Speaking of this, the fire that Adrian had just suppressed flared up again.

"If you could hold out a little longer, why would I need to start now?"

He grabbed the whetstone from the table and threw it at Henderson. The flying whetstone traced an arc and precisely hit Henderson's head.

"Ouch." Henderson, clutching his head in pain, imdiately fell to the ground and curled up.

Seeing Henderson struggling and groaning, Adrian's anger remained unabated.

He had already coordinated with the knights and ard farrs of 20 manors across three nearby districts, securing explicit and implicit promises.

The original plan was to delay the permanent tenure reform until early or mid-October and then rely on provoking the Salvation Army to incite massive protests and revolts.

Even if the revolt didn't succeed, it would still be a harsh slap in the face for that peasant Horn.

The Salvation Army was ford from a peasant uprising, and now that he had incited a peasant uprising, suppressing it would be humiliating, while not suppressing it would be a disgrace.

Moreover, whether it succeeded or not, before the big snow sealed the mountains, the so-called permanent tenure reform wouldn't be able to advance, perhaps even retreat.

An entire winter would be enough for all the nobles in the Thousand River Valley to unite and make a move.

By then, it would either result in a civil war where both sides suffered losses or a delay in the Mountain County reform, with both sides saving face and just changing the wording.

Adrian had already received a verbal promise and oath from a Count that once the permanent tenure reform in Mountain County was revoked, the surrounding eight manors would belong to him, and he might even be ennobled as a Baron.

To conceal this, he deliberately pretended to be a drunken layabout, intending to numb Ansel and exonerate himself afterward.

Unfortunately, before the situation could escalate further, even his own ho was about to be taken.

Moreover, it wasn't just his own ho; apart from Mason District, all the nearby knights had written to lant, showing that their manors and farrs had their pure hearts corrupted by the vile wool spinning.

Everyone was afraid, thinking if they didn't act now, they'd never have the chance again. Adrian just took the opportunity to decide to start early.

According to the plan, Mason District would rise first, then gather together and rely on familiarity with the terrain to move into his district.

Next, they would kill the monk sent by the Saint's Grandson, and the manor knights, to "protect the civilians," would have no choice but to coerce the mountain people into collaborating with them.

However, Adrian was faintly apprehensive; originally, the operation ti was a month or even half a month.

Now, recklessly extending it to a month and a half, could they withstand the Salvation Army's offensive?

But it doesn't matter, as long as the Salvation Army makes a move against the mountain people, their so-called "rciful believers" reputation will be shattered.

Yes, exactly.

As Adrian pondered, Henderson, who had been shouting earlier, quietly stood up, hesitated for a long ti before speaking, "Lord Adrian, this is a beheading matter. After going to the plains, 15 gold pounds a year is quite a lot. Why do you have to do this? Why not... just let it go?"

Adrian, who had been looking down, suddenly lifted his head, stared at Henderson for a long ti, and then burst into laughter.

"Let it go, how can you tell to let it go?" Adrian crushed the gilded copper cup in his hand, "Would Moliat take away the estate my ancestors passed down with just one sentence?"

At this point, Adrian bit his lip, his lips trembling slightly, "How many tis did I face Death God in the war in Mande County, crawling back from piles of corpses!

Look, how many scars and hidden injuries do I have on my body? Every ti the monsoon season cos, my bones ache. What do I want? I've done so much. Even if there's no rit, there's toil, right?

But when it ca to dividing the territory, I was brushed aside for so-called 'lack of martial skill' and 'severe alcoholism'.

Saying this, Adrian approached Henderson step by step, his face even turning as red and ferocious as a demon.

Seeing the knight coming, Henderson was so frightened that he fell to the ground.

The knight, who was drunk day and night, beat his chest hard, "I know, I know not all mountain people can go to Pingyuan County. Fine, for the knight's honor, I'll go ho. I won't fight or snatch!

I just want to stay at my manor, winter in Mande County or Norn Kingdom, buy a few pieces of porcelain to put in the house, and live steadily every year.

But they want to deprive of even this right! What nonsense about Hundred Households District, what nonsense about perpetual lease rights, they're trying to strip the knight's honor!

They think they're clever, that they can deceive with the Hundred Households District and perpetual lease rights? That they can buy off with 15 gold pounds?

I'm telling you, the Mantes Clan has been the lord of this manor for a hundred years, and it must be a hundred years later too!"

Adrian's voice echoed like a night owl in the dim hut, and the once arrogant and fierce Henderson shrank into the corner, not even able to speak.

After shouting this sentence, the entire Hunter's Hut fell into silence, only the sound of the rain outside growing louder.

No one knew how long it lasted, maybe a few seconds or maybe a few minutes, but the suffocating silence was finally broken by the harsh scraping sound of Adrian dragging a chair.

The dim candlelight illuminated the circular wooden walls, casting the tapestries and furs on the walls in clear light. When Adrian spoke, even the candlelight seed to flicker, "During this ti, you need to do two things."

Henderson, who had shrunk into the corner, imdiately jumped up, assuming a posture of bowing and listening to orders.

"The first is to reduce the number of new mbers joining that Scythe Brotherhood as much as possible, using the delay in their delivery ti. The second is to find out exactly who are the absolute supporters of that Ansel."

"Sir, the second thing is easy to say, but the first..." After several clashes, Henderson, who had suffered greatly, was no longer as ordinary and confident as he was in the beginning.

"Use rumors, incitent, hire so gossip won. Don't look at how enthusiastic they seem; deep down, they haven't truly accepted those two monks as their own."

Adrian understood these mountain people too well. Don't be fooled by their current warmth like blood brothers. When it cos to risking their lives, no one will stand with him, or very few will.

Mountain people are both selfish and selfless. They can be as close as brothers with others at ordinary tis, but if they really have to sacrifice, they are much shrewder than the farrs of Pingyuan County.

Otherwise, why do the bishops of Mountain County always complain to the tropolitan Bishop about "vile people from poor mountains and bad waters"?

Henderson buried his head even lower, "But even if I spread rumors that the salary can't be paid, won't it backfire once it's actually paid?"

"Today is September 11th." Without answering his question, Adrian suddenly ntioned the date, "In seven days, it will be the second payday. Rember, on that day, try to invite as many people from the manor to the main residence."

At first nodding blankly, Henderson seed to realize sothing, his hair standing on end, "You an to kill everyone outside the main residence?"

"As long as the land is in our hands, in the mountains where land is scarce, there are plenty of farrs who need land. Even if you kill 200 people, won't we still be able to recruit new ones?" Adrian said with a gloomy face, shaking the grape wine in his cup.

"But if that's the case, won't the remaining Public Register Farrs riot?"

"As long as you, the 8 Ard Farrs, stand with , can the remaining mortals turn the world upside down? I'm Extraordinary!" Adrian downed a full glass of grape wine, burping, his face flushed either from excitent or drunkenness.

"At this point, these people are already poisoned. They must be killed. If not killed — hiccup — it won't do!"

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