Chapter 835: A Red Heart for the Holy See, and Two Hands Ready for the Parliament

The Duke of the Netherlands shouted angrily, and the entire small conference room immediately fell silent. The Duke's face was as dark as water, and his eyes swept over one by one, from left to right:

"Do we have spellcasters? I know that each of you, including me, has funded some clergy. But if we really go against the Holy See, do you think these priests and bishops will stand on your side or on the other side?" The Holy See?"

The Counts of Dordremet and Delft bowed their heads together. Count Flanders muttered unconvincedly:

"It's not like there aren't other spell casters..."

"Yes, it's not nothing." The Duke sneered:

"One? Or two? What is the level? Are there professionals above level five? Are there any professionals above level ten? Even if there are, can experience, equipment, and unique spells be compared with the Holy See? This person from the Light Netherlands The Archbishop is a level 12 strong man!”

There are always some privileges to being a noble. Sneak around in the castle and raise a few magicians, warlocks, and bards who can do some minor magic. As long as you don't make a big fuss, the Holy See will basically turn a blind eye.

After all, these spellcasters can only provide the lord with a small secret room and personal protection, with some cool breeze in the summer and a heater in the winter.

When traveling, explore the road, and ask for divination when encountering difficulties. Some elderly and frail nobles may even ask a spell caster to create some kind of potion...

Most often they appear as counselors, tutors, or "that weirdo who lives in the castle tower." I dare not practice magic openly, I dare not recruit disciples openly, and as a magician, I dare not even build a mage tower!

Is such a spellcaster really useless when it comes to the battlefield?

"We are close to the sea here, and all the spell casters with a little bit of ability have gone to the other side..."

Count Flanders lowered his head and muttered softly. Beside him, Count Ostend looked sideways:

That's not true. The narrowest point of the strait is only over 30 kilometers away. If you are good at water, you can grab a bucket and swim across it in the dark, maybe you can reach it. If you have a little bit of ability and a little bit of courage, if you don't run away, will you wait here to die?

The Holy See's knife is always hanging...

"There is also treatment. If the fight really breaks out, do you not need treatment, or do I not need treatment? Do you have enough healing scrolls? Do you have enough healing potions?" The Duke's face was solemn, but his tone became more and more severe. :

"People are dying from illness and injury here, and the Vatican over there says they will be treated as long as they surrender. How many people do you think will run over?"

"this……"

This is really hard to say. Birth, old age, illness and death are the most primitive fears of human beings. A poor peasant woman who could not afford the treatment for her burning child dared to kowtow on the church steps until her face was covered with blood;

For the sake of an old man who was about to die, the most honest farmer dared to break into the church with a pitchfork;

Not to mention that during the war, for the sake of his brother, brother, and the captain who has always taken care of him, the lowest level of soldiers dared to gather together and overturn the priest's camp...

If all the healers evacuate, it's hard to say how many people will be willing to follow them and how many will defect midway.

"There are also people. Under your rule, how many people are there who devoutly believe in the Lord of Glory?" Seeing that the Earl of Orange was still a little unconvinced, the Duke's tone dropped again:

"We are really confronting the Holy See with open arms. How many people will tip off those farmers who are barefoot in the fields, those fisherwomen who sit in their mud houses weaving ropes and mending fishing nets, and those vendors who sell bread on the streets? ?”

"Then...what do you think we should do, sir?"

Count Ostend had been sitting at the edge, holding the lady's hand tightly and saying nothing. Seeing the Duke lay out all the difficult conditions he thought of, he finally spoke:

"Can you tolerate it like this?"

"What you can't get on the battlefield, you can never get at the negotiation table." The Duke of the Netherlands stood up from the table, walked a few steps with his hands behind his back, and then walked back from the other end of the conference room:

"If you can't beat it, you can only endure it, endure it first. Be patient, beg, and petition to the king and the Holy See——"

"Organize a group of nobles to be as large as possible. Let's go together, everyone." He turned his head and looked at each person in turn. He continued until every earl nodded affirmatively. :

"Everyone petitions together, and the king and the Holy See will always give them some face. Then, they secretly accumulate strength and educate the people. These people will not live until they can no longer survive, and they clearly know that they cannot survive because of the Holy See. will stand on our side."

"That's not enough."

Count Flanders whispered. This time the edict hit his industry the hardest, suffered the heaviest losses, and made him the most tempted to resist. On the way to the Netherlands, he checked the strength in his hands several times. Now he gritted his teeth and decided to bleed profusely:

"I can provide 500,000 gold coins, including supplies of equivalent value, to hire spellcasters and purchase potions."

"I can also offer 200,000."

"I am poor here and can only afford one hundred thousand..."

Several earls echoed chaotically. The Duke of the Netherlands listened silently. When he finally finished listening, he sighed:

"Of course it's good for you to have this idea. However, with such a large transaction volume, who can you buy it from is a problem."

There was a sudden silence in the conference room. As a noble lord, it is not surprising to buy some healing potions from the Holy See on a daily basis; buying in large quantities will definitely alarm the other party——

You can obviously go to the church to pray and receive treatment, but why do you stock up on medicines in large quantities?

Is he up to no good? !

Moreover, in addition to healing potions, we also need to stock up on some other spell props and hire some spell casters. Needless to say, there is only one buyer who can absorb such a large transaction volume.

"Who will do it?"

The Duke put his hands behind his back and faced the crowd. His eyes were casual and he was not looking at any one person in particular. However, all the counts turned their heads collectively and stared at Count Ostend:

After knowing each other for so many years, who doesn’t know who? Your wife is a magician. If you don’t go, who will?

Count Ostend held the lady's hand and bowed his head silently. After a moment, the Duke of the Netherlands coughed, turned around and took out a scroll from the corner of the conference room, and spread it out on the table:

"This is a serious matter. I, William Oren, hereby swear that if any word of today's plan is leaked, I, my family, and my blood descendants will be killed on the spot!"

He cut his finger and pressed a bloody fingerprint. The scroll flickered on and off, and a spell flew out and sank into the Duke's body. The earls looked at each other and came up one after another, swearing with blood one by one:

With the guarantee of magic, there is no need to worry about traitors unless absolutely necessary!

The Count and Lady of Ostend were the last two. After swearing the oath and pressing the bloody fingerprints, he stood up straight, looked around, and whispered:

"Let me do the work of contacting the parliament. I have a way to win their trust."

****

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