When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

#382 - Cess pit tragedy

The lively banquet hall was no longer as splendid as it once was, with hundreds of nobles from Goldstream Township seated around the long tables.

The flutes trilled merrily, the trumpets emitted undulating tremolos, and the dancers displayed their graceful figures to their hearts' content in the ballroom.

Armed farm girls, snatched from nearby farms and wearing clumsy makeup, ingratiatingly offered wine to these dignitaries.

But unlike in the past, these nobles, who seemed to have no worries, were all absent-minded today.

Although it was a lively banquet, the atmosphere felt so cold it could freeze water.

They dryly raised their glasses, uttering irrelevant toasts, but without a trace of joy on their faces.

Only a few incorrigible drunkards were still singing loudly in a daze, reaching into the dancers' collars.

"Hey, why aren't you drinking?" one drunken noble hiccuped, pouring wine into the cup of a wounded noble. "Drink up."

"No, no," the noble said, pushing the cup aside with annoyance.

He was in no mood to drink. He still couldn't believe they had been defeated.

An army of ten thousand, composed of thousands of infantry, over a thousand transcendent knights, and cannon fodder conscripts, had been defeated by fewer than six thousand farmers.

Even the spells of the monks had little effect against that devil's gun; the evil devil wind blew as it would.

Three hundred Nicosack knights were utterly annihilated.

Of the four hundred transcendent knights who had set out, only a little over a hundred returned.

The Goldstream Township Archbishop was captured, Count Zeraken was captured, and Knight Nidersal committed suicide by drinking poison.

This shameful defeat at Black Mountain had become the biggest topic in Goldstream Township's noble society these past two days.

Although everyone had agreed not to discuss the war before the banquet, they seemed to have no interest in talking about anything else when they looked at each other.

So most nobles were talking listlessly or simply sitting in silence.

However, some nobles noticed a very interesting thing.

When they usually held noble banquets, most of those present were of Fran or Leia descent, with Kushite nobles accounting for only about one-fifth.

After this battle, the various noble houses suffered heavy losses, but the Kushite knights had preserved their strength quite well. The Kushite nobles present accounted for more than one-third of the total.

In terms of the number of knights alone, the Kushite faction led by the Arco family would be in the ascendant for a long time to come.

Damn it, the Arco family was originally just a small branch of the Kushite families. Within three generations, they had become one of the leading noble families in Goldstream Township.

Thinking of this, most people turned their gaze to the dozing old woman, Vivian Christie Arco.

"Have a drink," at the edge of the hall, the drunken noble was still harassing the wounded noble at his table.

"Ugh, I'm not in the mood."

"You should drink even more when you're not in the mood. Drinking will make you feel better."

"Feel better? You drunken sot, who feels better with you?" Annoyed by the drunken noble, the wounded noble kicked him over.

Under the drunken noble's incredulous gaze, he stood up indignantly and shouted to all the nobles present, "Why don't you say something? We lost Jeannedale first, then Pavia, then Moncrus, and now Black Mountain. There's nothing left to lose."

"But on the other hand, we are all nobles. With our intelligence, if we prepare for war early, we might not lose next time…"

"Oh, blessed be the Holy Lord. We couldn't win at Black Mountain even with all the advantages. Can you guarantee me that we can win next time?" Another noble, his face wrapped in gauze and his mouth pierced by a lead bullet, said sarcastically, "Very blue, indeed."

"Then what do you say we should do?"

"Anyway, I've done my best, I've been wounded, I've completed my forty days of military service a year. This is your business now."

"If you had won, would any of this have happened?"

"My fault? You're saying it's our fault?" The noble with the wrapped face slapped the table, making the plates and cutlery jump. "Bullshit! Why don't you dare fight the Salvation Army? You shrink back, and then you say it's our fault."

Immediately, a Leia noble jeered, "As expected of the Franks. Leia rabbits become the kingdom's greatest warriors when they go to Fran."

"Say that again!" The Fran noble, his face flushed, took off his gloves. "Do you dare come out and fight me one-on-one?"

"Quiet, quiet!" In the end, it was Domenico who took the lead, along with a few old nobles, to suppress the quarreling nobles.

Amid mutual glares, an old and kind voice rang out.

"This old fool has a suggestion, though it may not be fully formed," the old matriarch said, rising shakily with her cane. "Now that the Salvation Army is powerful, instead of resisting them head-on, why don't we learn from the strategy of Bear Fort back then?"

The nobles recalled the so-called Bear Fort Strategy, and their faces showed surprise.

The Bear Fort Strategy was that, in the early years of the Hundred Years' War, Bear Fort was once occupied by the royal court.

The local nobles converted to the Evergreen Lord, became tax farmers for the royal court, and even took the opportunity to annex small fiefs and tribes on a large scale.

But later, as the royal court gradually weakened, the local nobles immediately revolted and overthrew the local vampire regime.

The banner they raised for themselves was "Pretend to convert, repent later."

Although the old woman was a Norn from Iron Sword Territory, she was very clear about the dark history of the Bear Fort people.

"Are you saying, pretend to submit, and repent later?" a Leia knight asked, squinting with disdain. "Old woman, this is not the lawless territory of Bear Fort or Iron Sword Territory."

"Why can't we? The Salvation Army will definitely go to rescue Rapidwater City. During this time, we can just accumulate strength."

"Yes, our Goldstream Township is the front line for blocking Black Serpent Bay. If the Salvation Army and Black Serpent Bay join forces, the consequences will be disastrous."

"So you're afraid of the Salvation Army? Cowards! Impure ones!"

"Who are you calling a coward? Hmph (inhale), who are you calling a coward!"

Originally, this idea was only discussed on a small scale, but with each push, almost all the nobles joined in.

Some areas even started fighting and making personal attacks, otherwise they would dig up black history.

The entire hall was as noisy as a morning fruit and vegetable market, with shouting, table smashing, crying, and tearing of clothes, more chaotic than a village meeting.

The nobles' hair was disheveled, and their fine formal wear was torn loosely, revealing their hairy chests and half of their pale white shoulders.

The band that had been playing was frightened, and the dancers and maids huddled in the corners, trembling as they watched everything before them.

Many young girls stared blankly at the scene before them, which was inconsistent with what they had imagined.

You see, according to their sisters and mothers, these nobles would talk politely, eat quietly, and only reveal their rude side after the meal, reaching into their clothes.

If they were lucky, they could spend a night with a noble and conceive a noble's offspring.

But today, the nobles were no different from bandits and robbers, even more chaotic and rude.

The old woman sighed, seemingly helplessly and contemptuously, wrapped herself in a blanket shawl, and walked out of the banquet hall with her cane.

Domenico and other Kushite nobles immediately stepped forward to support her. Seeing that their elders had left, the remaining Kushite nobles stood up and followed them out.

Some nobles who agreed with the old matriarch's idea also stood up and followed the old matriarch.

In the end, only about a third of the nobles remained in the entire banquet hall.

The sound of arguing gradually stopped, replaced by the constant sound of doors opening and closing.

The opponents in the quarrel had all left, leaving only forty or fifty people, so there was nothing to argue about.

The hall fell into an eerie silence. People sat dryly, and no one thought to ask the band to play again.

Looking at the dull atmosphere, an old noble shook his head helplessly: "Things have come to this, everyone should eat first, bring on the food!"

…………

"Old Matriarch, are we really going to repent later?" Domenico asked hesitantly, following the old matriarch, whose pace was shaky but fast.

The old matriarch turned around nonchalantly: "Loyalty is the coat of interest. The clothes are not important, only who wears them is."

Seeing Domenico's relaxed and watery eyes, the old matriarch missed her illegitimate grandson, Bernardo, who had died in Pavia, even more.

"As long as he can restore our Kushites to freedom, I can be loyal forever, until one day he can't."

Explaining the underlying principle to Domenico in as straightforward language as possible, the old matriarch continued down the mountain, regardless of whether he understood it or not.

Domenico and his two good brothers (Perini and Enrico), like him, basically did not understand the old matriarch's complex calculations, and his simple brain was not prepared to listen more.

Catching up to the old matriarch, Domenico asked what was worrying him: "What about these nobles next?"

The old matriarch seemed not to have heard, and was still walking forward at a pace that was slow but fast.

Domenico thought that the old matriarch was old and did not hear, so he increased the volume by two decibels and shouted loudly next to the old matriarch: "Old! Matriarch! What! About! These! Nobles! Next?!"

The old matriarch was startled by her good grandson and swung her cane at him: "Are you trying to kill me? I'm not deaf yet, you idiot."

"But you didn't answer me," Domenico followed behind sheepishly, but before he could ask clearly, he heard a strange explosion.

Turning his head, his eyes widened in horror.

Black smoke mixed with flames billowed from the courtyard on the hill, and the sturdy wooden courtyard collapsed with a bang.

In mid-air, cups, wine pots, and plates flew wildly, wooden boards and chairs collided with each other, and the nobles opened their mouths wide, falling from the second floor, uttering bewildered screams.

Yellow and green liquid columns rose, and dozens of nobles all fell into the cesspool below the courtyard, and hundreds of transcendent infantry emerged from all around.

They stood on the edge of the cesspool, holding up spears and halberds, stabbing and beating down the nobles who tried to climb up one by one.

The banner representing Domenico fluttered, and under the banner, dozens of Arco family transcendent knights stood on one side with longbows in hand.

Occasionally, a noble broke through the blockade and climbed ashore, only to be shot down by a volley of arrows.

His index finger trembling, Domenico turned his head stiffly, looking at the old woman's kind and serene face.

The old woman walked down without looking back, her kind voice echoing in Domenico's ears.

"When did they get the illusion that they could choose a side to stand on?"