Although Buzz had many thoughts in his mind about escaping, Dominic, who was holding him, kept an eye on his every move. Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw. ｂｉｑUｇE。 Info even a finger would elicit a warning from Dominic, which convinced Buzz that he couldn't escape. The priest would never play any jokes on himself, but he didn't want to lose his life, and that was perhaps the only thing Booz regarded as more important than money.

When Dominic escorted Buzz to the main road leading to Huttonmar Square, he found Evie standing alone by the fountain in the square. There are basically no pedestrians in the huge square at midnight, so Evie, who is dressed in a white robe, stands out at this time. When she saw Dominic holding Buzz in her arms, she showed a slightly surprised expression.

Whether it was right or wrong to do so, Evie didn't want to argue with Dominic again. But when she learned what was going on, she had to admit that in that situation, getting rid of the thugs and capturing their leader was the only option, because there was no second way. Faced with this situation, Dominica can only choose the lesser of two evils. "You're doing a good job. ”

"Well done...... Dominic smiled helplessly. "It would be nice if the adults of the church really thought so, but alas, they never paid too much attention to the actions of the front-line clergy, and the end result was always what the people in high positions valued most. ”

"Dominic, don't overthink it. Trust me, in church, silence will give you the opportunity to know everything you want to know most of the time. Evie reminded softly.

"Of course, you're more experienced than me at this point. Dominic pressed the slightly restless Buzz hard, and the guy was still trying to escape. "Now, let's take this shit back to church. ”

"Let's go. ”

The plains of Amiens were more silent and silent than Maffeo had imagined - full of all sorts of creatures he had never seen before, only because of the glow of the creatures at night. What is certain is that it will definitely not be a firefly. They are more like shadows of elves than fireflies. Marffeo gradually began to like this damn place, and if it weren't for the fact that he was still following the carriage, he would have liked to lie down in the field and sleep like this, he was tired.

The carriage traveled on a rough dirt road, and the rustle of the wheels against the gravel could not be faded for a long time, mixed with the scolding of the coachman. The horses were moving slower and slower, and the driver was slapping their butts more and more often with his whip. The stupid thugs seemed to be so interested in the scene that they cheered as if they were stopping to watch a boxing match, waving bottles, sticks, and hats that had been broken several holes.

Maffeo smiled secretly in the dense vegetation of the fields, and the moment he caught this comical scene, he suddenly felt that the mob was so cute, a cuteness mixed with something unpleasant. Their nature has long been corrupted by the dark place of the backstreet, and the environment has far more influence on a person than people think, so the bones of those who have fallen into the abyss of the backstreet are gradually infected with sin. Although Maffeo doesn't think this is a reason for all the ugly things they are doing now.

There are many ways to get out of the backstreets, and in fact, the easiest one doesn't even seem like a way for Maffeo to be one at all - you just need to spend ten minutes walking from the backstreets to Huttonmar's Square, then skirting most of the market area to the Duchy's town hall, to a table seeking workers and signing your name on parchment. But in fact, many people in the backstreets don't do that, even if it's the easiest way to do it.

The coachman had no extra energy to keep an eye out for the thugs who were in a play-watching mentality, and he had to keep an eye out for the wheels to run over the slightly larger rocks and cause the whole carriage to roll over. He must admit that he does not like to walk this kind of ghost road, and no coachman does. But he is now employed by people, and they have a rule with the payers, which is that they must not complain about the employer.

The boring stalking made Maffeo yawn, and he even had time to look back at the silhouette of Huttonmaar that flickered in the faint light of the night—he was now a little distance from Huttonmar, and the place where the guys were trading was so far away. And he found that the terrain was getting higher as he advanced, so he was sure that the guys would end up on a small hill.

Once they reached the uphill section, the thugs, under the orders of the leader-looking guy sitting at the front of the cart, had to detach some people to help push the carriage so that it would not slide down the slope because of the slow movement of the horses. Their party was over, Maffeo thought.

The shouts of the mob and the sound of the coachman whipping the horse's buttocks almost formed a symphony, except that Maffeo had never heard such a bad symphony, if he regarded it as a symphony. But apart from the sounds of the animals in the fields, they are the only ones who make sounds. Maffeo couldn't help but laugh as they pushed the carriage with laborious, unaesthetic movements.

Eventually, the carriage stopped at the top of the hillside, as Maffeo had expected. He came up the hill from another narrow path large enough for a man to walk, and under the cover of night he climbed a thick, dense camphor tree. Sitting on the thick branch, Maffeo took out the rectangular black object, fixed it on the branch and adjusted the angle of the glass facing, and instead of pressing the button immediately, he watched the thug's next move.

They looked more like they had come to camp here, and they took out a wool blanket from their backpacks and spread it on the thatched grass beneath their feet. Then, the rest of the bag was almost entirely wine. They took out bottle after bottle of wine and arranged it neatly on the woolen blanket. They didn't light a campfire in the clearing because they didn't want to attract the attention of passers-by, and besides, the weather on the outskirts of Huttonmar wasn't that cold.

Even the guy in charge of the group joined in the drinking frenzy, and Maffeo wondered if they were all from the snowy regions of the north, because it didn't seem like they would die from excessive alcohol consumption anyway, and alcohol was what people liked most.

Until the buyers arrived, Maffeo didn't want to watch the guys in action. Hell, he almost thought that for a long time to come, the hillside would be filled with the smell of all kinds of liquor mixed together that would make him want to vomit.

He looked through the gap between the branches to the other side, to the north of the plain of Amiens. There, he could see ghostly lights flickering in the darkness. He knew that it was the perennial flickering lights of Faroe Bay, and it was also the junction of Delos and Belmar, and so far it was. The belligerent Delos are preparing for the next invasion almost all the time, and they have been waiting for an opportunity to completely annex Belmar. Maffeo suddenly wondered what it would be like for the beautiful and peaceful plain of Amiens to be swept away by war, even though the vast plain had already experienced the flames of war, the flames of war caused by a group of radical madmen who wanted to wipe the ghost swordsmen off the continent.