When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

#668 - Lord Horn's will is above all else.

Four days had passed since the fall of Frazier Fortress. News of the 'Secret Party Registration Act' and the formation of the Northern County Council had spread throughout the northern county.

Messengers traveled by boats and horses along rivers and roads, delivering the news.

However, a small town not far from Frazier Fortress was unusually deserted, with even fewer merchants passing through.

"Another cup!" Guzville slammed his mug on the counter, his brown face flushed.

The tavern owner didn't dare to delay, immediately refilling his cup. After all, the burly man had a obsidian greatsword as tall as a person resting at his feet.

Battle mages like him were not to be trifled with. In the Secret Party-controlled areas without witchers, battle mages also took on the duties of witchers.

Unlike the wooden, A-frame houses of Thousand River Valley, the Black Serpent Bay tavern was square, built with sandstone walls, painted with white lime, and topped with a four-ridged spire of blue glazed tiles.

Sandstone and blue glazed tiles were common building materials in Black Serpent Bay. Sandstone absorbed heat and provided coolness, while the spire of glazed tiles facilitated drainage.

A warm breeze blew through the narrow windows, but Guzville continued to drink one cup after another in silence.

After all, from the perspective of the 'Secret Party Registration Act,' it was definitely good news for the large and medium-sized Secret Parties, but for Secret Party members like Guzville, it was a mixed bag.

On one hand, they agreed to unite, but on the other hand, this union required them to give up power and become vassals of the larger Secret Parties.

Besides, it seemed that they would also be required to pay taxes and serve in the military in the future.

But where would they get the ability to levy taxes? They didn't have the taxation and administrative capabilities of the large and medium-sized Secret Parties.

Even if they formed a Secret Party alliance, this wouldn't change.

Guzville stared at the yellowed wine stains on the table, his mind filled with the recent events—the Church's purges, the roar of Frazier Fortress, and the corpses hanging in front of the fortress gate.

He had considered running away, but where could he go?

"Are you Lord Guzville?"

Turning his head and body, Guzville squinted at the thin young man in front of him: "Who are you?"

"I'm Gretz from the Flame Rose Society," Gretz grinned. "Do you mind if I disturb you for a few minutes?"

As the leader of the Black Crow Troupe, Guzville immediately understood that they had come to persuade them to form a Secret Party alliance.

"Don't waste your breath," Guzville shook his head repeatedly. "Our village is close to Frazier Fortress, and the population and land are in the hands of the Church and wizard families. Even if all the small Secret Parties are gathered together, there are only enough for 20,000 people."

Gretz, however, seemed not to hear him: "We already have eight Secret Party alliances, with a household register of 7,000 people."

"Even with me, it's not enough for 20,000 people," Guzville waved his arms impatiently. "Come back to me when you've gathered 19,000 people."

"It would be enough to bring in those autonomous village communities around the former Red Copper Fortress and Frazier Fortress," Gretz leaned against the counter, staring intently at Guzville with his face turned to the side.

Guzville was stunned, once again sizing up the young man from head to toe.

There were a large number of non-militarized zones between the Church-controlled areas and the Secret Party-controlled areas that were not under either's control. If the towns and populations controlled by the Church around Frazier Fortress were added, it wouldn't be a problem to gather 20,000 people.

While tempted, he still questioned: "These areas are controlled by the Joanites and the Holy Father Society. It's difficult for you to even enter."

"Tsk." Gretz smiled slightly, rolled up his sleeves, removed his gloves, and revealed five mechanical prosthetic hands with iron tendons wrapped in cork. "With this, do you think the Holy Father Society won't let me in?"

"Are you a Savior Army veteran?" Guzville's eyes darted around, and he immediately lowered his voice. "A member of Lord Hohen's?"

"To be precise, I'm a retired Savior Army officer, here to help you train your troops according to the treaty between the Holy Axis and the Joanites," Gretz put his gloves back on, smiling restrainedly and calmly. "From this perspective, I am indeed a member of His Holiness."

Gretz's candor made Guzville uncomfortable: "No, you, you just said it like that?"

"Yes, is there a problem?"

Guzville sized him up and down, then chuckled and shook his head as he went to drink his beer.

"What's wrong?"

"Lord Hohen definitely didn't tell you to do this," Guzville stood up and walked towards a quiet corner of the tavern. "Who would be so openly talking about this kind of thing? Aren't you afraid I'll report you?"

The two sat down again in a small corner, Gretz shaking his head as he sat down: "We've investigated you. The Holy Father Society isn't the same as the Church. Not everyone is willing to cooperate."

Taking out a copy of 'Holy Doctrine of Salvation,' Gretz handed it to Guzville: "We found you because we believe you are one of us."

In the matters of planting spies and co-opting others, Hohen set the 'Three No's' principle for the Cheka agents, namely 'No indiscriminate killing, no seduction, no bribery,' only recruiting those with common ideals.

There were two considerations for setting this principle. The first was to prevent the Cheka from developing terrorist tendencies, and the second was to prevent corruption within the Cheka, because the abyss was also staring at the Cheka.

Taking the booklet, Guzville stuffed it into his arms without even looking at it: "Stop pulling the tiger's skin, why would you Savior Army help us small Secret Parties?"

"You can see it as a private action of us retired Savior Army officers and some of His Holiness's retainers who have joined the Secret Parties in a personal capacity."

"Do you want to be a councilor in Black Serpent Bay? Or do you want to control the territory around Frazier Fortress?"

"On the contrary, we want to hand over the population and land near Frazier Fortress to you to control," Gretz shook his head. "All we want is for you to protect our interests in Black Serpent Bay."

Remembering the Thousand River Valley's investment in Black Serpent Bay, Guzville instantly understood. He was silent for a long time before continuing: "We don't have the experience to manage and collect taxes."

"Don't worry about that. Someone will come to teach you then." With a mysterious smile, Gretz leaned half his body over the table. "What do you think?"

Guzville didn't answer immediately, but tapped the table unconsciously with his fingers. This conversation wasn't just about co-opting, but a choice of no return.

Joining this so-called Secret Party alliance meant completely taking sides and bowing to the Joanites and the Savior Army.

But if he refused, did his Black Fang Troupe have any other way to go?

The roar of Frazier Fortress seemed to still echo in his ears, and the huge crack was like a hideous mouth, devouring everyone who tried to resist.

The newest novels are first published at six, nine books, bar, first, release!

After hesitating again and again, Guzville sighed: "I, I'll think about it."

"It's okay, I'll be staying at this hotel for the next three days. You can come whenever you want." Without forcing him further, Gretz shrugged and let Guzville leave.

But watching Guzville's departing figure, the smile on his face slowly faded.

Leaning back in his chair, he crossed his legs and took out a roster.

Spitting on the quill, he ticked off Guzville's name. Just as Gretz put down the booklet, he noticed someone sitting in front of him.

"Supervisor Puelov," Gretz straightened up.

Currently, the Cheka mainly operates around cities and transportation hubs. From top to bottom, there are county-level Cheka supervisors and township-level Cheka commissioners.

Then there are the lowest-level executors, such as intelligence monks, armed monks, and interrogation monks, after all, the Cheka still hangs the name of the Lubyanka Purge Monastery.

This time, it was Puelov, the former Langsand County Cheka supervisor, who led the team, drawing 120 Cheka members and 30 Holy Father Society monks into Black Serpent Bay.

Compared to the chilling secret police, Puelov, dressed in a simple black robe, was more like an amiable priest, reading a simple booklet of poetry.

Currently, the Cheka is composed of low-level monks, vagrant serfs, and former Secret Party members, with low-level monks being the majority.

Therefore, the Cheka members mostly have a refined and easy-going appearance, only those who live in the Lubyanka Monastery know how cruel they are.

Gretz lowered his head: "Eight so far, and one is still considering."

"Not bad, you're making good progress." Taking out a blank piece of paper from his pocket, Puelov placed it on the table and pushed it over. "The White Mountain Hermitage has sent a message saying that these Secret Parties are suspected, investigate them."

"Yes." Gretz immediately picked up the white paper, glanced at it, and stuffed it into his arms. "Supervisor Puelov, how many seats do we currently have?"

"If everything goes smoothly, we can probably get six seats. Those Holy Father Society monks and our people have also mixed into those Secret Parties. Do you have any ideas?"

"Is there still a vacancy at the Sola Fortress intelligence station? I'd like to nominate myself."

Puelov flipped through the poetry booklet, his tone calm: "Have you thought it through? Sola Fortress is an important town on the southern county border. The Secret Parties there are more complex than here, and the Church's claws have never been removed."

"That's exactly why I want to go."

"Oh?" Puelov raised his head, his eyes flashing with a meaningful glint. "You don't want to stay in Red Leaf Township and serve His Holiness's center?"

"It's not that I don't want to, but that I'm not suitable," Gretz said calmly. "I became a Cheka to kill devils. There are too few devils in Langsand County."

Putting down the booklet, a meaningful glint flashed in Puelov's eyes: "Good, very spirited. I'll ask Lord Rene for you. If nothing unexpected happens, you'll get the position of intelligence station chief.

But I hope you remember, our goal is always to serve His Holiness's will. Your own selfish desires sometimes have to be put aside. Consolidating our will to protect His Holiness is your duty."

Gretz raised his head, met Puelov's gaze for a moment, and then said in a low voice: "I know, Lord Hohen's will is above everything else."