CHAPTER 127: CHAPTER 125: SO YOU ALSO...

"You see, this is Xia Mapo. The terrain here was originally very steep, making it easy to stumble without dismounting."

"Going 10 miles forward from here, you’ll reach Joan of Arc Castle; ahead is Gray Furnace Town, I better hide for a bit."

Along the way, Harbin cheerfully chatted as they walked, Grampwen told Horn he had never seen a Dwarf talk so much.

On the road wrapped by farmed hills, a black dragon-like caravan slowly moved forward, attracting the curiosity of the peasant laborers, who lifted their heads to gaze curiously.

The overseers’ long whips and reprimands soon followed.

The ground was covered with a blanket of golden autumn leaves, which swayed gently in the breeze, falling like gold coins to the earth.

On Horn’s left were still mountains, while on the right, an endless plain stretched out. Only through the mist could the remnants of the green mountains be seen.

After a day’s walk, at noon on November 2nd, Horn finally reached the designated location.

The dragon-like caravan of the Pope Country was stationed by the roadside, waiting for the envoy of Duke Kush Dane.

After connecting with Qianqian from the White Mountain Hermitage, she successfully rejoined the group, while Jia Li only appeared last night, mentioning some difficulties, then vanished again.

Sitting on a tree stump by the roadside, watching the villagers play and frolic, Horn felt much more relaxed than before.

The tense days had passed, and before him lay a clear road.

Horn almost figured it out; given the current situation, his plan of peaceful rise was no longer feasible.

As for the blue-blood orphans, Horn decided to first send their letters and messages to their families, to send them home.

Regarding the Church’s actions and the nameless person’s entrustment, Horn had three plans.

The first was Jia Li. From various indications, she indeed was of the high ranks in the Secret Faction, and these pieces of evidence were just the right weapon since the Secret Faction was inherently at odds with the Church.

The second was Duke Dane. Based on the intelligence gathered so far, at the very least, he was still on the side of the Thousand River Valley People.

For Duke Dane’s plan to become independent, these pieces of evidence would serve as the best justification for rebellion.

It’s worth noting that very few among the Thousand River Valley People hadn’t experienced their children being led away by the Green-clothed Flute Player.

The third plan, naturally, was about Horn himself. If the first two plans didn’t work out, it would be his turn to take on the Church.

Dane as the short-term, Jia Li as the mid-term; by the time they both failed, a fully developed Horn should have already taken up the Clockwork Maxim.

Horn had asked, as soon as he could confirm his identity as a Witch, he could immediately obtain a small town as his witch territory.

Wouldn’t this enter into the farming phase that Horn was familiar with?

He was confident he could become a significant figure, but that also required time and development.

After all, what could his 1,200 people accomplish?

They said there were four major armies, but they could only fight against mountain mercenaries, who were also just rabble.

Against Hakuto leading the White Maple Mercenaries, they still had no solution.

One couldn’t be like those villagers, thinking they were invincible just by imagination and determination.

Material basis can’t be ignored.

If there wasn’t Spring Technology, Horn’s original city route and peaceful rise would have been the optimal solution.

If you can’t beat them, join them.

But now he had vast mana and a clockwork gun, advancing slowly from the Secret Faction became a decent path.

He had a solid reason not to reconcile with the Church.

Ultimately, he needed a base to slowly develop; running everywhere like this was not a solution.

As for those villagers, Horn was still pondering when the right time would be to tell them the truth.

"You must be Mr. Horn," a gentle male voice interrupted Horn’s thoughts.

Hearing the man directly call Horn by name, the surrounding Imperial Guard soldiers immediately glared at him.

About three fathoms away, a man in a purple wide-sleeved shirt and green woolen tights courteously paid his respects to Horn.

"Are you the Duke’s envoy?"

The man immediately turned his wrist, bowed with a hand over his chest, and took a step back: "I am indeed Casdilor of the Hibban Family, please call me Casdi if you prefer."

After mutually confirming each other’s identity, the two exchanged pleasantries and finally got to the point.

"When can I meet Duke Dane?"

"I regret to inform you that the Duke is currently not at Joan of Arc Castle."

"Not at Joan of Arc Castle?" Horn frowned, "Then during this time..."

"Please rest assured," said Casdi, still smiling in his eye-catching tights, "I am the Duke’s most trusted courtier, I know everything, and I arranged everything on your side."

"When will he return then?" Horn was not about to rashly hand over the evidence in his possession; he intended to deliver it personally to Duke Dane.

"Our public statement is that the Duke is courting," Casdi lowered his voice, "but in fact, the Duke is training his secret army."

Secret army?

Horn quietly asked, "What is a secret army?"

"That’s unspeakable, unspeakable. He will definitely return before December," Casdi wore a mysterious smile, "Now, please lead your ’citizens’ and follow me to the camp."

The convoy of the Pope Country moved forward once again.

"Before entering the camp, could you do me a small favor?" After taking just a few steps, Casti whispered again.

"What kind of favor?"

"We’ve recently taken in quite a few ’short-haired bandits’, and they’ve been restless lately. We might need to rely on your prestige..."

"Let me take a look first..."

After walking a distance, the camp surrounded by low fences appeared before Horn.

Stopping his steps, Casti introduced, "You will be stationed nearby as well."

Standing on tiptoes, Horn surveyed his surroundings.

This was a ruin, overgrown with weeds, with broken bricks and rubble everywhere, and only a few crumbling houses remaining.

This must have been a town once, but it was later abandoned.

With his boots stepping on the muddy dirt road, Horn followed behind Casti, stepping into this camp.

Countless grass huts and tents were haphazardly piled together, men and women, young and old, all dirty-faced, moved about unbothered.

Above the heads of the people level with the ground, there was an airspace reserved for fleas.

Horn could even see with the naked eye how the fleas were like a big net covering the entire camp.

By the edge of the grass, a filthy drunkard squatted there, brazenly drinking and relieving himself at the same time.

Not far from him, three dogs watched intently, likely ready for a fierce battle when the drunkard got up.

Suppressing the urge to vomit, Horn and the others bypassed several wooden camphouses, jumped over a trench filled with drunkards and corpses, and finally arrived at a crowded area.

On this yellow-green grassland, it was crowded with all sorts of people. Horn roughly estimated over two thousand people in sight.

At the center surrounded by the crowd, a gray-brown wooden stage two fathoms high rose from the ground.

"What’s this for?"

"I, I, I..." With a constipated expression on his face, Casti stumbled over his words for a long time, "I don’t know how to explain it, perhaps you should see for yourself."

Covering his mouth and nose, Horn pushed his way forward and, amidst the stench, opened his eyes to finally see clearly.

The sky was high and the clouds light, eagles chased sparrows in the sky, under the idle sunlight, torches burned fiercely at the four corners of the pinewood stage.

Horn could clearly see, in the center of the wooden stage, was a thin man, vigorously shaking a black cloak in his hands, dancing and jumping crazily.

This is...?

"Hmm oh oh oh oh——"

The thin man spun and jumped with his eyes closed, uttering unintelligible sounds from his mouth.

Tossing the black cloak in his hands aside, he squatted down nearly on his knees, frantically grabbing at his own neck.

But in the next second, he stood up by supporting his knees, jumping up like a ballet dancer, continuously bouncing like a spring.

"Eh yay eh yay eh yay——"

Mouth emitting meaningless strange calls, the man raised his hands high, constantly shaking them in a motion very similar to the hand tricks Horn had seen in his former life.

The muscles on his cheeks twitched continuously, as if experiencing extreme pain, his face contorted like an evil spirit.

So you too...

Watching the dancing figure on stage, Horn felt so awkward he tingled all over, even his teeth were aching.

"Hiss." He didn’t dare to look up, just mumbled with his head down, "This is too embarrassing."

As soon as the mumbling ended, Horn heard the strange calls suddenly stop, followed by a dull "thud" sound, with exclamations rising and falling around him.

Looking up, he saw the jumping man sprawled on the ground, his face twisted, apparently having fallen.

Yet the dancing man wasn’t panicked.

Like an epileptic seizure, he foamed at the mouth, squirmed on the ground, wiping away the blood from his nose and tears from his eyes with dust and dog feces.

"Wow-ooh!"

As if struck by lightning, the man sprang bolt upright, then stood up from the ground again with a pop.

The savage expression dissipated into serenity. He stood straight as if frozen in ice, motionless.

The people below swallowed nervously, waiting for the final outcome.

At this moment, Horn’s awkwardness gradually faded away, and he too waited curiously, wondering who he was preparing to let descend.

It continued like this for a full seven or eight seconds before he suddenly jolted, shouting loudly: "Drink啊!"

The man’s feet splayed inward, palms pressing together with the bases, facing upward, as if striking a pose often used by kindergarteners in photographs.

Slowly opening his eyes, he stared intently ahead into nowhere, with an immensely solemn and sacred demeanor, as if enveloped in holy light.

"Hear me, faithful followers——"

"I am the Saint’s Grandson!"