In the dirty, chaotic, smoky underclass of London Wick, there is a saying: Don't mess with the cloaked!

This sentence is a lesson that countless serfs and low-level commoners have paid for with their lives and blood! So when a tall figure in a pitch-black cloak sat in the deepest corner of the tavern, all the ruffians had no intention of going up to harass him, and even the few tables around him could not see the people seated!

The tall figure in the cloak spreads a piece of parchment paper on the pitted pine table, writing something, this kind of furniture made of pine wood is soft, easy to crack, easy to deform, and sometimes especially vulnerable to termites, so most of the furniture is used by the poor, such as in the tattered taverns of slums like this one.

In this kind of consumption place at the bottom of society, all the negative adjectives are enough to describe the tavern at this time, but this tall and treacherous figure does not seem to care at all about the unpleasant smell and dirty environment here, and he looks very focused on writing, even when the black quill in his hand is pierced in the cracked groove on the table from time to time, so that the handwriting is constantly deformed, and it becomes not neat at all!

"Hmph! Every day I know how to write useless things, and I don't know who to write to! Serious things are never considered! It's a miracle that you have survived until now! I have begun to sympathize with your descendants!"

At this time, a very short figure suddenly appeared on the opposite side of the table without knowing when, and suddenly jumped on a chair next to him and sat down, twisting very uncomfortably, as if there was a thorn on his buttocks, and his tone was both bitter and mean, as if he wanted to vent all his grievances against the environment.

But the tall figure on the opposite side continued to write intently as if he hadn't heard anything, the face under the cloak was clumsy and dignified, and the wind and frost on his face made him look full of carving like years, in short, he looked like a strong man with a very good taste!

Seeing that the guy opposite didn't react at all, the short man who was sitting on the chair barely taller than the table rolled his eyes very dissatisfied, and snatched the inferior wine from the glass on the table, and then drank it all, and then immediately showed a very painful expression, and almost didn't spit it out!

"Damn, is this cup full of horse urine? You can drink all this wine? Are you fooled by the slander of those stupid wizards?"

Shortleg spilled the remaining terrible liquid on the ground, and with that disgusting and indignant expression on his face, he slammed the cup on the pine table, and said with some anger: "Those stupid wizards don't believe in the existence of black swans! I said I should catch one! In the end, I only brought back a black stupid quill! What is the use of that? Can you prove our findings? Now I am laughed at like a joke by all the goblins in the tribe! Do you still have the heart to write notes? Documenting our stupid adventures?"

Francis Bacon listened absentmindedly to the grumbling of his partner Shortleg as he wrote his notes, and he didn't take the ridicule of the fools to heart at all, and if he didn't believe it, everyone didn't want to believe what they hadn't seen, and there was no need to waste time on it.

"How's it going?" Francis asked in a low voice when he looked up, rubbed his eyes, and asked in a low voice.

At this time, the short legs were still grinning with their tongues and rinsing the remaining wine dregs in their mouths, looking like they were about to be disgusted to death, and when they heard John's words, they rolled their eyes angrily, hesitated and said: "There is some news, but I also heard that someone has begun to notice what we are inquiring about! The other party seems to be a little tricky, we... Are we going to continue?"

Francis was stunned for a moment, and glanced at the short leg with some surprise, he didn't expect his partner to also retreat one day, which had never happened before!

The short leg showed a hesitant expression, and said in a low voice: "I'm afraid this matter is not that simple, the records in the clan are very limited, and it may involve very secret things... We... ”

"Of course we have to continue! We are explorers! Even death can't stop us, have you forgotten?" Francis interrupted the short leg, frowning slightly, and continued, "Who did you say noticed what we were inquiring about?"

Shortleg thought about it and seemed to feel that giving up at this time was really not in line with the pursuit of the two of them, his expression slowly returned to normal, habitually glanced at the surrounding environment, and lowered his voice again and said: "It's the Lareol Hermitage! I heard that there are still some inextricable links between them and the Benedictines! They seem to be looking for something, so they are more concerned about all the strange news, which will notice the news we are concerned about, maybe not specifically aimed at us"

Francis was stunned for a moment, then showed a puzzled expression, and asked puzzledly: "The Hermitage, the power of the Holy See, what does the information we want to get have to do with them? I remember that the Lareol Hermitage is not in France, and do they also have the power to sift through such a complicated news in Londonwick?"

The short legs were actually very confused, but it really didn't know the reason, so he could only shake his head slightly, and said: "This is not France after all, their strength is not enough, so they have to cooperate with the local forces in London Wick to find out the news, and it is precisely because of this that their identities will be exposed, and my people will know that the Saxons do not welcome the Holy See's hand stretched too long, and the risk of the Lareol Hermitage doing this is not small!"

"But I've also heard that the reason why they appeared here to collect information is fake, and the real purpose is to proselytize! Extend the power of the Holy See into England!" said with some hesitation, "These missionaries who suddenly appeared in Londonwick have made the nerves of the surrounding forces a little nervous, and this rumor is not unfounded!"

Francis thought for a moment and said calmly: "It's better to have nothing to do with us, otherwise the Holy See will still be very troublesome, and it's better not to offend those crazy people!

The short leg showed a very strange expression, and said in a somewhat strange voice: "There is very little news that has been handed down, only that there was an ancestor of the side branch who once followed a very strange family, but I don't know why the ancestor finally left them, and left a little bit of words and said some very strange things before he died!"

Francis suddenly came to his senses and hurriedly asked, "What words?"

"Limoges!