CHAPTER 112: CHAPTER 112: THE POWER OF JUDGMENT_1

Upon hearing he could save his life, the man immediately brightened. Overwhelming joy chased the fear from his face, and he couldn’t help but crawl towards Lance and kneel.

"Thank you, My Lord! Thank you..."

"But I need you to identify those Heretics for me."

At these words, the man was suddenly struck dumb, his previously ecstatic expression collapsing in an instant.

This was no different from strapping himself onto the stake for execution.

"I don’t need you to go to the Church. As long as you confess honestly, I can overlook your dealings with the Heretics. Otherwise, I can just kill you right here. You choose," Lance said.

Although Lance spoke this way, there was no room for negotiation. He resumed loading his gun, an action he had momentarily paused.

The man knew he had no real choice and dared not refuse, so he had to stiffly agree.

After quickly preparing, Lance took the bound man and rode swiftly to catch up with the main force ahead.

"My Lord, is there a problem?" Reynard asked, noticing the man. This was highly unusual. He knew the Lord’s habits; prisoners were normally not taken unless there was an issue.

"Heresy," Lance slowly uttered. This single word immediately made Reynard understand.

Dismas had roughly explained the current situation to him. In short, the town ahead had been corrupted by Heresy, and it was unknown how many people had become Heretics.

As a former Crusader of the Church of Light, Reynard had always loathed Heretics. After understanding the true nature of religion, he became even more aware of the danger that unrestricted Heresy posed to ordinary people, deepening his disgust.

"What should we do now? With so few men, it’s difficult for us to act. Perhaps we could rush to Ovando and notify the Church there."

Although Reynard wanted to kill those Heretics, he also understood the situation. He didn’t know the extent of the town’s corruption. If most of the townspeople had succumbed to Heresy, his small force would struggle to fight.

The safest course was to find the Church and let them handle it. This was the typical response throughout the Empire upon discovering Heresy—a matter of habitual thinking.

"How does the Church deal with Heretics when they’re discovered?"

Lance asked with interest, but his question made Reynard hesitate for a moment before he finally spoke, "They issue a call to arms in the surrounding area, gathering nearby lords and believers to form an army and eradicate the Heretics."

"So, why do you think those people answer the call so eagerly? And after the trials, how many people in the town do you think will survive?" Lance pressed, a mocking smile on his face making his meaning clear without words.

The religious inquisition was devastating, often excessively so.

Why were those people so eager to join the Church’s call to arms?

Because it was an excuse for sanctioned plunder. Whatever they seized became theirs, so naturally, they were enthusiastic.

Of course, there were warriors like a young Reynard who genuinely fought for the Holy Light. However, this didn’t prevent the slaughter they would commit to satisfy their own urges.

The Church only wanted to eliminate Heretical forces, while those who answered the call to arms sought plunder. Their goals aligned.

But what about the town’s residents? They had already suffered from the encroachment of Heresy. Just when they thought hope had arrived, they were instead dragged into a war, losing their homes and lives for reasons they couldn’t comprehend.

The looters would return home, loudly praising the Church and boasting of their own deeds in eradicating the blasphemers. Only the innocent townspeople suffered. Indeed, some may have died without ever knowing they were considered Heretics.

Reynard reflected on the Church’s actions and understood his Lord’s predicament. To some extent, there was little difference between the Church and Heresy; one merely held the mantle of righteousness.

Lance, however, was more concerned that the Church must not discover these matters of Heresy. If it did, it would draw their attention. Should the Church seize this opportunity to expand its prestige in his territory, all his efforts could be for naught. He needed to operate in secret, at least until his own power was sufficiently consolidated.

"So, what do we do now?" Dismas, lacking such insight and having never been part of the Church, was oblivious to the many implications in their conversation. He simply wanted to know how to handle the current situation urgently.

"It’s simple," Lance stated. "This is my territory, and we cannot allow them to operate freely. We must find a way to eliminate the Heretical organization in town. However, our actions must not escalate into widespread chaos. We need to remove the Heretics precisely, without causing general disorder."

With that, Lance gave his orders.

"Reynard, take your team and set up at the bandit camp. Dismas and I, along with this fellow, will go to town to identify people. The first step is to identify all members of the evil cult."

Under the man’s guidance, the group quickly located the abandoned camp of the Slave Catchers.

Their elusiveness stemmed from their reliance on horses for mobility, allowing them to commit crimes and move on quickly. Thus, they had no fixed camp, only temporary resting sites consisting of a few crudely erected tents.

Lance went in and rummaged through but found little of significance. However, while sorting the loot later, they discovered a significant number of Coins. It seemed the Slave Catchers had profited handsomely from trafficking people.

"Tell me in more detail how you usually made contact with those people," Lance interrogated.

The three gathered in the tent to interrogate the captive further. Eager to save his life, the man told them everything he knew. However, he was merely a minion. He didn’t know the details of the transactions with the evil cult members; his role was simply to capture people.

"Damn it! What use are you?" Dismas cursed, drawing his Short Sword and feigning a downward chop.

"I remember now! I can take you to her! We still have yesterday’s ’goods’ in our possession!" the man struggled and shouted, hurriedly revealing the bargaining chip he had concealed, hoping for better terms.

Not being honest, Lance thought, looking at him indifferently. "Teach him a lesson."

"Yes!" Dismas sneered. He had disliked the man for a while; even as a former bandit, he despised those who trafficked people.

"No! Please, don’t!" The man struggled, but bound as he was, he had no way to resist.

The next second, agonizing screams erupted from the tent. Even the soldiers outside couldn’t help but glance over, curious about what was happening within.

But their training compelled them to hold their posts. They were merely soldiers under the Lord; they didn’t need to know such extraneous matters.

The screams continued unabated for some time before the sounds from the tent gradually subsided.

Inside the tent, Lance now sat calmly to one side. The captive, however, was drenched in sweat, large beads of perspiration rolling continuously down his face.

Lance observed the man’s pitiable state but showed not a hint of mercy.