Pico sat in this room, looking around despite being tied up.
This Gulag Monastery, with an interior height of about 3 fathoms, had cross-shaped arches meeting in the center, and the dome was a faded Miseria birth mural.
Compared to the exquisite rooms, the decorations and furniture in this room were simple—there were none.
The entire hall was empty, with only a single chair at the center.
Pico, trapped on the chair, could only idly count the henbane leaf patterns on the columns.
After informing the others of his identity, half the day passed without anyone coming.
What was there to discuss? Wasn’t it all a routine process?
Unprofessional, these people, Pico pouted and shook his head disapprovingly.
As Quincy’s envoy, Pico had two tasks on this trip.
The first was to reach a cooperation agreement with the Secret Faction, discussing the exchange of people and heads.
Pico was familiar with negotiating secret rules between the Church and the Secret Faction, this wasn’t his first time.
The second task was Quincy’s request that they not surrender immediately and instead put up a false fight.
By injuring a few of them, Quincy would have a reason to claim a bigger share from Qianqian.
Honestly, if he hadn’t come with the first task, Boned wouldn’t have easily let him come here.
That damned Boned, always preoccupied with women.
While lost in thought, the iron-clad door was suddenly pushed open, making a creaky noise, and several people in red clothes walked in.
This must be those rebellious Secret Faction members.
"Apologies, is this brother from the Church? Untie him quickly,"
Chervis shouted, prompting several guards to rush over and clumsily untie Pico.
"Really sorry, that was one of our temple knights from the church, always , he’s Priest Durdafer’s confidant, none of us dare to do anything to him."
"Why does he keep saying His Holiness the Pope, His Holiness the Pope?"
"The Pope is the scapegoat we put up. Typically, for the small folks’ sake, they call the Pope, it’s probably out of habit."
Supporting Pico’s shoulder, Madlan laughed, "Brother made us wait painfully, when will the Church’s Celestial Soldiers arrive? Once they’re here, we’ll surrender immediately."
"No rush, no rush." Pico shook off Madlan’s thick hand, stood up, and moved about the room, stretching his slightly numb body as if no one else was there.
After some stretching, he slicked his hair back: "How’s Priest Durdafer? Where are you holding him?"
"Priest’s doing well!" Madlan’s smile stiffened, "No issues, quiet and peaceful."
"Really, how’s his health? Is he injured?"
"Minor injuries, Priest hasn’t even said the word ’pain’, the corpse is too healthy."
"Brother Madlan means very healthy." Grampwen squeezed Madlan aside, "Since he can’t go out, just staying in a small room daily, he’s much thinner than before."
Pico nodded, this makes sense, Priest Durdafer was detained by them, couldn’t go out, probably had nothing to do but exercise.
"Since Priest Durdafer is alright, we can get to business."
Several Pope Guards brought a small table and stools, Pico and the others sat down together.
Knowing these people were the high-ups in the rebel mob, Pico skipped pleasantries, heading straight to the point, as he was unfamiliar with them.
"It’s , you also know the flood came at a bad time, and now Juanuo, that heretic, is fiercely fighting Bishop Constantine.
"Thousand River Valley is full of mobs rallying under Juanuo’s banner, various Secret Factions are fanning the flames, forcing the Demon Hunter Corps to hunt everywhere.
"Lord Banifus wants to do something meaningful, set an example, and make a good showing in front of His Excellency Constantine and the King.
"Mr. Bishop publicly claims you have ten thousand people, being the largest rebel force around, remarkably strong.
"Do you understand what I mean?"
Madlan and Chervis exchanged glances, Grampwen seemed to realize something, his body slightly trembled: "You wouldn’t mean..."
Seeing these people still didn’t understand, Pico irritatedly scratched the back of his head.
"I won’t beat around the bush." He stood up and extended five fingers, "Four hundred cultist heads, preferably male, and that damn Pope and Bishop need to be captured alive."
Madlan’s forehead veins bulged, his right hand clenched tightly into a fist, but Chervis beside him grabbed his wrist firmly.
"I’m still not quite clear, if we chop off heads directly, with only so many people, what if the villagers panic and flee?" Grampwen stood in front of Madlan, blocking Pico’s view.
Pico glanced up and down at Grampwen, asking loftily: "Are you new here?"
"Come, I’ll teach you." Pico patted his knee with a smile, leaning forward, "Collecting heads, it needs a clever pretext.
"Find a ringleader and tell him they won’t be harmed, just detained for a few days, then tie them up with ropes.
"Take them away batch by batch, kill them batch by batch, but don’t let those in the back see the ones in front being killed.
"Best to deal with the heads a bit, like draw some devil tattoos, stick pig teeth in the mouth, otherwise, who’d believe they’re Secret Faction, right?
"When stacking them in the cart, there are tricks too; children and women at the bottom, adult men outside."
Now it’s Grampwen’s turn to look unnatural.
At this point, Pico had not yet noticed Grampwen and the others’ change in expression, continuing to speak incessantly.
"I know, yes, I know, you surely want to surrender and be done with it, but unfortunately for you, this time it won’t be a simple surrender and done."
Pico crossed his legs: "You’ve made too much noise this time; not only does that fake Pope need to be handed for beheading, but according to Bishop Banifus, you Cardinals have to be handed over too, however..."
"However what?" Chervis squeezed Madlan to the back, moved alongside Grampwen and stood by him.
"However, in this matter, I can lend a hand, like letting you go and claiming you died on the battlefield." Pico intertwined his hands, resting on his knee, "As long as you help us with a small favor first."
"Yeah, I want you to stage a fake battle with us!"