When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist-Chapter 705 - 663: Mr. Horn’s Will Above All

It has been four days since the fall of Fraser Fortress, and the news of the Secret Party Registration Act and the formation of the Northern County Council has spread throughout a large part of the Northern County.

Messengers riding small boats or horses could be seen everywhere along the rivers and roads.

However, the small town near Fraser Fortress remained unusually quiet, with fewer traveling merchants passing by.

"Another drink." Guzville slammed the cup on the counter, his brown face slightly flushed.

The tavern owner dared not neglect him and instantly refilled the cup, knowing that this tall man had an Obsidian Toothed Greatsword by his foot.

These Combat Mages were not to be trifled with; in areas not under the control of Demon Hunters, they took on the responsibilities of Demon Hunters.

Unlike the wooden houses with peaked roofs in Thousand River Valley, the tavern at Black Snake Bay had square sandstone walls painted with white ash and a roof made of blue glazed tiles forming four sharp peaks.

Sandstone and blue glazed tiles were common materials in Black Snake Bay; sandstone absorbs heat and provides shade, while the sharp tiled roof facilitated drainage.

A warm wind blew through the narrow windows, but Guzville continued to drink gloomily, cup after cup.

According to the Secret Party Registration Act, it was great news for those large and medium-sized factions, but for Guzville as a member of a secret party, it was a mix of emotions.

On one hand, they agreed to unite, but on the other hand, the union demanded that they give up power and become vassals to large factions.

Moreover, it seemed that in the future, they would have to pay taxes and be subject to military conscription.

But how could they possibly levy taxes? They lacked the taxation and administration abilities of large and medium-sized factions.

Even forming a Secret Party Alliance wouldn't change this fact.

Guzville looked at the table's yellowed wine stains as recent months' events flashed through his mind - the Church purges, the thunderous Fraser Fortress, and the bodies hanging in front of the fortress gates. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

He had thought about escaping, but where could he go?

"Are you Mr. Guzville?"

Turning around, Guzville squinted at the slender youth before him: "And you are?"

"I'm Griz from the Flame Rose Association." Griz grinned, "Mind if I bother you for a few minutes?"

As the leader of the Black Crow Group, Guzville immediately realized this was an attempt to persuade them to form a Secret Party Alliance.

"Don't waste your breath." Guzville shook his head repeatedly, "Our village is near Fraser Fortress; the population and land are in the hands of the Church and the Wizard Clan. Even bringing all the small factions together wouldn't amount to 20,000 people."

Griz seemed not to hear, "We already have eight factions allied, with a register of 7,000 people."

"Still not enough for 20,000, even with me." Guzville impatiently waved his arms, "Come back when you've reached 19,000."

"Adding those autonomous villages around Red Copper Fortress and Fraser Fortress would suffice." Griz leaned against the counter, eyeing Guzville intently.

Guzville paused, once again scrutinizing the young man from head to toe.

Between Church-controlled areas and secret party zones, there were plenty of non-military zones controlled by neither, and if the towns and populations controlled by the Church around Fraser Fortress were added, reaching 20,000 was no issue.

Swayed yet skeptical, he questioned, "These areas are controlled by the Ruo'an Faction and Saint Father's Association; even entering is a challenge."

"Tut." Griz smiled slightly, rolled up his sleeves, and removed his gloves, revealing five mechanical prosthetic hands wrapped in soft wood, "With these, do you think the Saint Father's Association would let me in or not?"

"Are you an old soldier of the Salvation Army?" Guzville's eyes darted, immediately lowering his voice, "Mr. Horn's man?"

"To be precise, I'm a retired officer of the Salvation Army, sent according to the treaty between the Holy Axis and Ruo'an Faction to help train your army." Putting his gloves back on, Griz smiled modestly, "So yes, I am indeed His Majesty Saint Sun's man."

Griz's candidness left Guzville uneasy: "What, you're just saying it like that?"

"Why not? Is there a problem?"

Guzville scrutinized him again from top to bottom, suddenly chuckling and shaking his head as he returned to his beer.

"What's up?"

"Surely Mr. Horn didn't tell you to be so blatant." Guzville stood up, moving toward a quiet corner of the tavern, "No one talks about such things so openly; aren't you afraid I'll report you?"

The two once again took seats in a small corner, Griz shaking his head as he sat: "We've evaluated you; Saint Father's Association and the Church aren't willing to cooperate with just anyone."

Drawing out a copy of the Holy Path Salvation Technics, Griz handed it to Guzville: "We found you because we believe you are one of us."

In the matters of planting spies and recruiting others, Mr. Horn established the "Three Nos" principle for Cheka Commissioners, which means "No indiscriminate killing, no seduction, no bribery," recruiting only like-minded individuals.

This principle was set for two reasons: The first is to prevent the Cheka from developing tendencies towards terrorism, and the second is to prevent corruption within the Cheka, as the abyss is also staring at the Cheka.

Taking the pamphlet, Guzville tucked it into his chest before he had a chance to look at it: "Stop with the show, why does your Salvation Army help us small Secret Factions?"

"You can see it as the personal actions of us retired Salvation Army officers and some individuals who joined the Secret Party Alliance as Saint's Grandson's affiliates."

"Do you want to be a councilor at Black Snake Bay? Or do you want to control the territory around Fraser Fortress?"

"Quite the opposite, we want to hand over the population and land near Fraser Fortress to you for control," Griz shook his head, "All we want is for you to protect our interests at Black Snake Bay."

Recalling the Thousand River Valley's investment in Black Snake Bay, Guzville instantly understood and remained silent for a while before speaking again: "We lack experience in management and taxation."

"Don't worry about that; someone will come to teach you when the time comes." With a mysterious smile, Griz leaned half of his body over the table, "So, what do you think?"

Guzville did not respond immediately, merely tapping the table subconsciously; this conversation was not simply an attempt to draw him in but rather an irreversible choice.

Joining this so-called Secret Party Alliance means taking a definitive stand, bowing to the Ruo'an Faction and Salvation Army.

But if he refuses, does his Black Teeth Group have any other paths to take?

The rumble of Fraser Fortress seems to still echo in his ears, and that huge crack resembles a menacing mouth, devouring anyone who attempts to resist.

After hesitating for a long time, Guzville finally sighed: "I'll, I'll think about it a bit more."

"No worries, I'll be staying at this hotel for the next three days; you can come over anytime." Without further pressure, Griz shrugged and allowed Guzville to leave.

Watching Guzville's departing figure, his smile slowly faded.

Leaning back in the chair, he crossed his legs and pulled out a roster.

Spitting on the feather pen, he marked Guzville's name with a check; as Griz put the roster down, he noticed someone sitting in front of him.

"Supervisor Pulevlov." Griz straightened up.

Currently, the Cheka operates centering on cities and transportation routes, with Cheka supervisors at the county level and Cheka commissioners at the township level.

Then down to the lowest level of operatives, such as Intelligence Monk, Armed Monk, and Inquisitor Monk, since the Cheka is also affiliated with the Lubyanka Counter-Revolutionary Monastery.

This time, the crew comprised former Langsande County Cheka Supervisor Pulevlov, who led 120 Cheka members and 30 Saint Father Order Monks into Black Snake Bay.

"How many people do you have on your list?" Dressed in a simple black robe, Pulevlov seemed more like a kindly Priest compared to the terrifying secret police, reading from a simple booklet of poetry.

Currently, the Cheka internally consists of lower-level monks, displaced serfs, and former Secret Party members, primarily led by lower-level monks.

Therefore, most Cheka members appear cultured and approachable, only those residing at Lubyanka Monastery know the extent of their cruelty.

Griz lowered his head: "Eight, and one is still considering."

"Not bad, your progress is swift." From his chest, Pulevlov pulled out a sheet of white paper and pushed it onto the table, "The White Mountain Hermitage passed on a message saying these few Secret Factions are under suspicion, investigate them."

"Yes." Griz immediately picked up the white paper, glanced at it, and tucked it into his chest, "Supervisor Pulevlov, roughly how many seats do we have currently?"

"If all goes well, we can get six seats; some of the Saint Father Order Monks have blended into those Secret Factions, any thoughts?"

"Is there still a vacancy for the intelligence station at Solaburg? I'd like to nominate myself."

Pulevlov flipped through the poetry booklet, his tone calm: "Are you sure? Solaburg is a key town on the Southern County border, where the Secret Factions are even more complicated, and the Church's claws have never been removed."

"That's exactly why I want to go."

"Oh?" Raising his head, Pulevlov's gaze was obscure and enigmatic, "You don't want to stay in Red Leaf Village, serving as the central core for the Saint's Grandson?"

"It's not that I don't want to, but it's not suitable," Griz's tone was calm, "I became a Cheka to hunt demons; there are too few demons in Langsande County."

Putting down the booklet, a meaningful glint flashed through Pulevlov's eyes: "Good, very spirited, I'll ask Mr. René for you, and barring unexpected changes, you'll get the position of head of the intelligence station.

But remember, our goal is always to serve the Saint's Grandson's will, sometimes placing personal desires aside; keeping the will unified to defend the Saint's Grandson is your duty."

Griz raised his head, meeting Pulevlov's gaze momentarily before softly saying: "I understand, Mr. Horn's will is above all."