A ray of sunlight shone through the slightly tattered crevices of the tent.

Carl rubbed his head, his memory still stuck on the scene where two vicious thugs beat him up.

"It hurts". Carl subconsciously let out an exclamation, grinning in pain.

The voice pulled him back to reality, a look of confusion in his eyes. What the hell is going on? Shouldn't this be a dark, damp prison?

This tent is too shabby.

Is this the slum of my city of Ayr......?

Countless thoughts stirred like paste, but the brow grew tighter and tighter.

When I tried to stand up, I found that I was sleeping on a tattered straw mat, my legs were weak and my limbs were a little weak.

Oh my God, what the hell is going on? What did those two fierce men do to themselves?

Standing up with his hands on the ground, he looked at his arms and found that there was some bruising on his arms.

I couldn't help but feel emotionally and struggled to go outside, I must figure out where this is.

The tent door was opened, and there was a look of horror in his eyes, how could this be a refugee camp.

Tell me, my lord, why is this?

Is this a dream? a dream of a dying man.

"Carl, what's wrong with you?". A pedestrian greeted Carl as he stepped out of the tent.

Carl was stunned and subconsciously shook his head, he actually wanted to know what was going on.

"Damn, who beat you like this?" Seeing Karl's blue nose and swollen face, the man subconsciously let out a shout.

The sound spread, and countless people gathered here, and then they began to talk nonsense.

"Carl, what happened to you yesterday? Why do you have a blue nose and swollen face?"

"Who did it to you, we will help you take revenge".

"You are the confessor of our Lord Light, the Supreme Lord God and the blessings of the gods, how can you be so humiliated by the mob."

"Carl, tell us what's wrong with you."

Listening to this tidal sound, Karl's eyes flushed with a hint of redness, and faintly tears flickered. How many years? How many years have I not felt such warmth.

"I ......". Carl couldn't help but say a word, but he couldn't help but swallow the words. It may just be a wonderful dream, and it feels good to be cared for and recognized by others.

Listening to Carl's voice, everyone immediately closed their mouths and looked at them with concern one by one: "Carl doesn't matter if you speak slowly, because this is our home."

"Now I'm satisfied". Carl sobbed, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. If it's a dream, then hopefully the dream never wakes up.

Listening to Carl's words, everyone looked at each other, and they didn't know how to reply for a while.

Ian slowly walked out of the crowd, looked at Carl who was sobbing softly, and couldn't help but sigh: "Child, don't be afraid, no matter who bullies you, we will help you together."

"Yes, we'll help you out together." The crowd heard Ian's voice and spoke in unison to Carl.

A hint of warmth welled up in Carl's heart, and the pain in his body disappeared: "Thank you, if this is a dream, I hope never to wake up."

"Silly boy, how could this be a dream". Ian couldn't help but laugh when he heard Carl's words.

Then he looked around and asked them loudly, "Are you talking about a dream?"

"It's not". Everyone replied in unison.

Ian looked at Karl again and said to him slowly, "This is the place where my lord and the gods watch and bless, although it seems like a dream now, but I can tell you really."

"Carl, it's not a dream." Ian spoke word for word to Carl.

Carl was stunned for a moment, with a hint of doubt, and subconsciously repeated: "This is not a dream?"

"Not a dream". Ian replied.

Carl laughed, and a tear slipped quietly: "This is not a dream?".

"It hurts? I actually feel pain, which proves that it is not a dream, because there is no feeling in a dream." The laughter touched the wound, and a hint of pain followed. The whole person is dumbfounded, as if he has lost his soul.

It's not a dream? I, Karl, aren't actually dreaming. But how is all this to be explained? Shouldn't I be in prison waiting to be executed?

Looking at Carl, who was dumbfounded, everyone looked at him with a trace of doubt, why did he feel that he was a little abnormal, could it be that he was hit.

Ian looked at Carl and sighed at him, and said in a serious voice, "Child, I know your doubts."

"You need to thank our Lord Light Supreme Lord God for all this, followed by the wise man, then the Pope, and the head of the André and the Judge of Alberta." Ian whispered to Carl.

It can be seen that Karl's expression still did not change in the slightest, so he explained to him in detail: "It was our lord who learned that you were captured by the despicable people of Ayrshire and captured in the prison of Ayr City."

"My Lord has decreed that the Pope should send Head Andre and the Judge of Alberta to rescue you." Ian said to Carl.

organized the words a little in his heart, revealing a trace of emotion: "As for the way to save you, it was arranged by the wise man."

"So you saved me?" Carl spoke slowly to Ian, crying and laughing like crazy. They are obviously enemies, but why do they go to great lengths to rescue themselves for an enemy?

I don't know how much credit I have made to El County, and I don't know how many times I have been born and died to Viscount Eyre, but what awaits me is a chop.

The contrast between the two is like the difference between heaven and earth.

At this moment, his faith collapsed, at this moment he only felt that his world was falling apart, and at this moment it was like the walking dead losing his soul.

Ian looked at Carl's dejected appearance, revealing a reverent gaze: "This is all my lord's divine will."

"We are one, and whoever is bullied by the enemy will go to the rescue." Ian spoke to Carl in a firm tone.

As if thinking of something, there was a hint of pride in his eyes: "Although we are weak, we are united."

"We are weak, but we have the guidance of the gods." Ian looked up at the sky.

There was a hint of pride in our eyes: "Although we are weak, we have three hundred paladins, twenty knights of inquisition, and thirty priests, who are the swords that protect us, and will surely give the enemy the most favorable response."

"Fight back, we must not suffer in vain." The crowd shouted in unison almost at the same time as they thought of what had happened in the camp during this time, and the atrocities that Ayrshire had inflicted on them.

The voice exploded in his head like thunder, and Karl's eyes regained their brightness.

The words "Retaliation" exploded in his mind, and he looked around and saluted them respectfully: "From today onwards, I, Karl, will be the most devout believer of our Lord, and I will do everything to give the enemy the strongest possible response."

"Please tell me where the Pope is, what I want to make the enemy feel is the real pain". Karl said word by word, a determined gaze in his eyes.