When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

#501 - Jean Brouillard's attitude

Under the protection of a dozen or so Holy Gun Cavalry, three plain carriages traveled smoothly along the road.

Jean Bulot stroked the velvet cushions, occasionally craning his neck to look at the ground, seemingly wondering why the carriage was so smooth.

Martin, on the other hand, held a copy of "The Holy Path Salvation Doctrine," marking it with a quill pen.

Unlike his earlier enthusiasm with Horn at the dock, Ludwig, huddled in his seat, appeared somewhat melancholic.

He leaned against the hard wooden board, stroking the raised, rough knuckles of his fingers calloused from sword-fighting.

As if recalling the time he secretly climbed over the wall and stood on the carriage, confronting the bandit knights.

The Huannuo Sect has developed to this day, targeting his lords countless times, and it hasn't been achieved simply through preaching.

The armed monks and wealthy peasant soldiers of the Blago Monastery have played a significant role, unable to directly compete with knights, but able to resist most covert confrontations.

For example, when a witcher once tried to assassinate Huannuo, it was Ludwig who broke the assassin's nose with a punch and threw him from the second floor.

But now, all that bloodthirst seemed to be masked by his kind face.

"Hmm?" A faint singing sound made Ludwig open his eyes.

"Am I disturbing you?" Martin immediately tried to pull the carriage curtain, but Ludwig stopped him.

Leaning his head to the side of the curtain, Ludwig asked, "What are they performing? The Blueblood Orphan?"

Martin was the person who had been with the Salvation Army the longest and held the highest position, and Ludwig knew he would definitely know what it was.

After the implementation of the "Plan," Martin was granted the position of Director of the Revelation Department of the Truth Court, a lower-ranking doorman monk and chaplain.

In the Salvation Army government, he was considered a mid-to-high-level figure, with his department under the jurisdiction of Truth Master Madeleine.

He listened by the window for a while before confidently saying, "This is the Salvation Army's new play, called 'Night of the Long Bridge,' which tells the story of Lord Horn capturing Jeanne Fortress."

"Based on 'The Holy Grandson's Expedition'? I thought they would only perform the Blueblood Orphan play?" Ludwig said with interest, somewhat tempted to go see it.

"Recently, they've added three new plays, two of which are based on 'The Holy Grandson's Expedition,' 'Night of the Long Bridge' and 'Gale Gulag,' and a love drama called 'The Smiling Man.'"

Lifting the curtain, letting the cold wind and sunlight shine in, Martin smiled and said, "They are also currently rehearsing a 'Hypocrite,' named after the Gulag priest Duldav.

However, the director of the Literary Department, Grampwen, recently went on maternity leave and went to Black Snake Bay, so it has been delayed."

Looking at the laborers diligently digging ditches by the mortar road, Ludwig's gaze extended further, towards the reeds behind them, to the grass stage erected by the riverbank.

When he sailed from Rapidwater City, he saw many of them along the way.

The first time he saw them, Ludwig was very surprised, wondering if these farmers could afford to hire circuses and theater troupes to perform.

Later, he learned that these theater performances were free, with the aim of spreading doctrine and law to the farmers.

Putting serious doctrines into circus and drama performances made Ludwig feel strange, always feeling that this kind of behavior was not respectful of the noble truth.

But considering the various actions of this Holy Grandson Horn himself, it seemed that there was no so-called seriousness of truth for them.

"It's really a disgrace to our Huannuo Sect," Jean Bulot said dissatisfied.

Frowning, Martin glanced at Jean Bulot, hesitant to speak.

He didn't want to argue with this Liturgy Priest.

Seeing Martin's conflicted expression, Jean Bulot snorted lightly and leaned against the wooden board of the carriage.

"Traitor!" he whispered in a voice only he could hear.

This was Jean Bulot's assessment of Martin!

As a Liturgy Priest, Jean Bulot was responsible for keeping all the holy objects of the Blago Monastery, holding masses and religious festivals, and managing prayer activities.

Perhaps because he had been immersed in doctrines and scriptures for too long, his character was commendable, never engaging in any corruption, managing the monastery's finances in an orderly manner, but meticulous about the scriptures.

Compared to the ambiguous attitude of other monks, this Jean Bulot was very dissatisfied with Horn's title and origin.

In particular, his pretense of the Holy Father's descent and impersonation of the Pope made this orthodox monk feel absurd and unbearable.

Isn't he just an ignorant, lucky farmer? And they, these regular monks, have to bow their heads to him?

Jean Bulot was also a veteran of the Blago Monastery, and he actually represented the opinions of some of the older monks.

They disagreed with the current ruling system of the church, and also disagreed with Horn's so-called Holy Path Sect.

As a theologian, Jean Bulot could clearly feel that this "Holy Grandson" seemed to be promoting a theocratic religious country, but in reality, he was secularizing under the guise of religion.

If the Salvation Army really succeeded, that would be the end.

But the situation was stronger than people, and in order to prevent Ludwig from "selling the monastery," otherwise he wouldn't want to come.

"They are just a branch of the Huannuo Sect, we are just here to cooperate."

Ludwig was not afraid of Jean Bulot, and said directly, "At least look at their offer, besides, they saved Little Pool City, if you can, why don't you go save it?"

"Abbot, what are you saying?" Jean Bulot's face turned purple, the veins on his forehead bulging, arguing, "Theologians' affairs, can that be called not saving... The Holy Lord will punish them for me...

Accurately speaking, the reason why those rebels were annihilated by the Salvation Army was because I prayed, so the Holy Lord sent them to annihilate them...

Of course, this does not mean that they represent the Holy Lord, they are just the Holy Lord's tools, we are the Holy Lord's spokespersons..."

"Alright, alright, you know my scriptures are not as good as yours, don't nag anymore," Ludwig waved his hand impatiently, adjusting his sitting posture.

He knew that if he didn't stop him, this short, fat monk could argue with you all the way to the country villa.

Only Huannuo could argue him speechless, Ludwig was from an armed monk background, he didn't have this ability...

Ludwig looked at the seat Martin was sitting in now, which was the seat Huannuo most often sat in.

Originally, when they went out to preach or took a carriage to other places, Huannuo, Jean Bulot, and Ludwig sat like this now.

Ludwig drove the carriage and kept watch, Huannuo and Jean Bulot debated face to face, often with several apprentice monks following to help or joke around.

A small convoy traveled back and forth in Thousand River Valley preaching, all year round.

Now Martin has grown up, Catherine has grown up, Melia has grown up, Ludwig and Jean Bulot are old...

Huannuo is gone.

"Weeping sounds—"

While feeling sentimental, Ludwig suddenly raised his head, frowning, "What's that sound again, I seem to hear crying?"

Martin immediately knocked on the carriage board: "What happened? Why is there crying?"

"It's nothing," the coachman's voice came from the front, "Some children mischievously blocked the road, and were driven away by the Holy Gun Cavalry, one of them slipped and fell."

"Stop for a moment, I'll get out of the car and take a look," Ludwig shouted to the coachman.

"That won't do," the coachman was startled by Ludwig's words, "Old monk, please, if I stop, I'll be scolded."

Ludwig's brows were tightly furrowed, his expression even somewhat irritable in the sound of crying.

"Tsk." Ludwig suddenly opened the car door.

"Eh—" Martin was startled, and was about to stop him, but saw him take out a bag of candied fruit and throw it to the children by the roadside.

"Eating sugar won't hurt, sweet."

"Catch it, they're all honey-coated preserves, delicious!"

Ludwig stuck out his butt, throwing candied fruit in an ungainly posture, Martin hugged his waist, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

"Abbot Ludwig still loves children so much."

Watching Ludwig throw the package full of candied fruit to the children, Martin tried to ease the relationship with Jean Bulot, smiling and saying to him.

Jean Bulot no longer had the complaining expression he had before, he sighed with a complicated expression: "The original Ludo (nickname for friend), only joined the Huannuo Sect because his only son was trampled to death by a passing knight."

Martin's smile choked.

"Old news, why mention it?" Smiling and waving goodbye to the children, Ludwig clapped his hands, "I just can't stand the sound of crying... Are we at the villa yet?"