The horn sounded, and Glinton's soldiers poured out, and they followed Bruce's banner through the village to the other side of the territory, and the Glintons' movements were spotted by Jeffrey's scouts, who immediately reported to Lord Jeffrey.

"You're saying the Glintons are on the move." Jeffrey looked at the map in his tent, a rudimentary map dictated by scouts and drawn by priests, showing the border between the two realms.

"Yes, my lord." The Scout nodded.

"They lunged at our camp?" Jeffrey asked, frowning.

"No, they're going down the road." The Scout shook his head.

Jeffrey was surprised to hear the Glintons leave along the territorial trail, what the hell are these Grintons doing?

"Hurry up, hurry up." Bruce rode his horse and led his troops on a hurried march down the river, much to the surprise of the two vassals.

"Lord Baron, Lord Jeffrey is over there." Sir Wallace rode up to Bruce's side, pointed across the river and said to Bruce.

"We headed down the river, found a shallow place to cross, and fought Jeffrey on the other side of the river." Bruce reined in the reins and explained to Sir Wallace.

"Understood." Sir Wallace realized that Bruce felt that the decisive battle of crossing the river was unfavorable, in fact, they did not understand this truth, but they just felt that once the army left Glinton, maybe Jeffrey would take the opportunity to cross the river to attack.

"Don't worry, they are impressed by the walls and towers of Glinton, they will never dare to act rashly, and with Lord Jeffrey's suspicious character, they must have thought it was a trap." Bruce smiled and said disapprovingly, what came out of Phoebe's mouth was not only the deployment of the opponent's troops and the strength of the army, but also the character of coach Jeffrey.

Sure enough, as Bruce judged, Jeffrey watched Glinton's army leave but did not dare to act rashly, he was worried that he would fall into Bruce's trap, not to mention that the troops in his hands were much smaller than the first attack, and if he suffered further losses, he would probably fall into an even more difficult situation.

"Why didn't the Duke of Bemessi come to my aid?" Jeffrey said angrily slamming the table.

"My lord, it's not good." Suddenly, the curtain of the tent was lifted, and a retainer hurried in.

"What's going on?" Lord Jeffrey looked at his panicked retainers in confusion and asked him.

"We have just received a beacon signal from the Duke that his territory has been attacked and that he needs the help of his vassals." The retainer said to Lord Jeffrey with a panicked look on his face.

"The duke has been attacked, who is the enemy, is it the king or some other duke?" Jeffrey's face turned pale, he didn't expect his luck to be so bad, and when he needed help the most, the Duke would be unable to protect himself.

The Duke of Bemessi stood on the tower of the castle, his gaze beyond his own tall and deep walls, and the billowing smoke rushed straight into the sky, as the serf rebels burned the towns and villages outside the castle.

"These bandits, abominable bugs, their souls will fall into the boundless hell forever." Duke Bemessi cursed helplessly in the tower, as if he could really destroy the serfs by cursing.

"Lord Duke, we have issued a beacon order, and the vassals will soon come to our aid." The duke's court minister approached him and reported to him.

"What's the answer from the church?" Duke Bemessi didn't take the vassals' army to heart, he knew that his vassals with their own evil intentions would definitely not intervene now, not to mention that there were berserkers in the serf rebel army, and the ordinary army of the vassals was definitely not an opponent, and he only hoped that the church could join in as soon as possible and send a team of charismatic knights to help him drive away these hateful serfs.

"No one has answered yet, and maybe they haven't heard from you yet." Gong Xiang thought for a moment and comforted the duke.

"Hmph, they must want me to make some promises!" The Duke of Bemessi turned, walked to the throne and sat down, looking very old and frail.

"Is it the eleventh tax?" Gong Xiang asked in surprise.

"What's more, greedy rats, who will never satisfy their appetites." The corners of Duke Bemessi's mouth twitched, and he put his hand on his forehead and sighed.

"The eleventh tax is really too harsh, not only the serfs and commoners, but even the nobles have to levy one-tenth of their income, this, this is really." The palace minister bowed his head, the eleventh tax is the policy implemented by the new pope of the church, Pius III, hoping that everyone who believes in the Holy Religion will provide one-tenth of the tax for the church, even the privileged nobles.

"If I don't agree, I'm afraid they won't send out the Knights of Divine Grace." Duke Bemessi's face was ugly, but the situation was pressing, the serf rebels outside the castle had already surrounded him, and without the support of a strong army, it would be difficult for the fortified castle to last long.

"It's better for us to agree for the time being, and when the situation is stable, it's not too late to regret it." The palace minister spoke to the duke.

"You're thinking too simply, the church will definitely let me sign a contract, in black and white on parchment, I'm afraid I won't be able to go back on it." Duke Bemessi shook his head with a wry smile, and suddenly the bell rang, and he knew that it was the serfs who were preparing to attack the city.

At this time, in the church in the castle, the deacon of the church also looked up at the lowering of the castle tower.

"Lord Deacon, do you think the Duke will give in?" A priest stood behind the deacon and asked him curiously.

"This duke is ambitious, and without the action of a strong external force, he will definitely not give in easily." The deacon had long hair in a shawl, and his young face was cold, and he was dressed in a white robe, the edges of which were sewn with gold thread.

"It's a pity that a duke can't understand the painstaking efforts of His Holiness the Pope." The priest looked regretfully in the direction of the tower and said, he was very dissatisfied with the greed of the nobles.

"Not every nobleman has a vision, let alone an ambitious duke." The deacon said with a smile.

"Bell, bell." Suddenly, the bell rang loudly, and the faces of the two clergymen became solemn, but they did not seem to be worried about the serfs attacking.

"Will the castle hold up?" The priest asked curiously.

"This castle was built by the duke's grandfather, of course it can withstand any attack, rest assured, not to mention." The deacon said lightly.

"What's more, the consequences of attacking the Holy Church, that Lord should be very clear!" The priest smiled as well.

"Isn't that why we raised him? If the king, the duke, the lord, or the nobleman are nothing more than instruments for the church to rule over the world, and if he does not understand this, then we can change the spokesman at any time. The deacon's eyes lit up, and he looked at Father as he walked into the church.

"You're right, Lord Black Butler." The priest hurriedly stood next to him and said to the deacon in a white robe.

"I'm leaving through the secret passage, let me know if anything changes." The Black Butler walked into the church, and his figure quickly disappeared into the darkness.

"What a terrible character, but that's why His Majesty the Pope holds him in such high esteem, or maybe it's because of his identity?" The priest straightened up, his face covered with old ravines and wrinkles, full of fear for the deacon.

This deacon came from the Holy City, but there are many rumors that he is actually the illegitimate son of Pius III, and the deacon is only a clergyman in the fourth stage of the Holy City, but no one dares to despise him, because he often represents the will of the Pope himself, and this deacon acts coldly and cruelly, so some people behind his back give this deacon who likes to wear white robes a name, Black Deacon.