The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 1101 Ch.1100 The secular is the sublime

“Mr. Collins! Lord Horn has agreed—no, no! You can’t just go to the Great Whirlpool like this… Mr. Collins! Listen to me! I…”

along the way.

Theodore was trying to stop Roland.

He believed he had reached an agreement with Horn and that everything would calm down in a few days.

Roland Collins' actions will undoubtedly escalate this matter to an unmanageable level.

“In fact, things were already out of control when your master illegally imprisoned Lady Gilles Fonseca,” the girl leaning against Roland said with a smile. “We need to remind Mr. Horn, and the Vortex… or other sects—the Inquisition is not what it has been for the last ten years.”

This is also why other executives are happy to oblige.

Who are the people who can remain in the courtroom?

"...Believe me, I've already spoken with Lord Horn..." Theodore still wanted to try.

Roland looked up at the blond man who was gesturing to listen.

He looked absolutely dazzling.

From his hair to his appearance, from his physique to his speech—what Roland lamented was that despite having beautiful eyes that could gaze even into the depths of phlegm with deep affection, he couldn't see the truth of the world…

in other words.

He placed too much faith in 'rules,' just like Rose once joked about, something she'd read when she was learning to read—

No one knows which idiot wrote it, but her teacher privately assured her that it was true and that he had seen it with his own eyes.

that is…

A story about a noblewoman and a bandit.

The book was obscene enough, but Rose's teacher was willing to let her read it, not entirely because of Rose's 'personal charm': he required every lady he taught to read the book and see the 'warning' in its obscenity.

Aside from the exquisite and vivid descriptions, the book actually tells the story of a noblewoman who blindly trusts men, and whose naivety and foolish reliance on rules lead to her losing her reputation, being ridiculed by others, and dying a miserable death.

(Of course, the teacher regretted it a few days after meeting Rose. He felt it was unnecessary to let the bandit himself read the book.)
true.

Not all stories circulating in the circle are romantic.

There are also some vulgar, despicable, and terrifying things.

Girls must always be wary of their own foolishness and naivety, and at the same time, rules will not truly be like a corset, constantly and tightly binding them.

In Roland's view

Theodore Gabriel Thackeray is exactly like the girl in the book—of course, in London at that time, calling a man a 'girl' was quite an insult…

Theodore gave Roland a feeling that was completely at odds with his appearance.

seriously.

Roland believed that he had the soul of a girl.

It's hidden there.

He hid quietly for half his life.

…………

……

The Tree Mother's 'sanctuary' was simply not to the executors' liking—there was a lot of consensus among the outside world regarding the followers of the "Great Vortex," who believed that these people did not indulge in pleasure and abhorred all the products of forcibly distorting nature through so-called 'wisdom.'

Actually.

The existence of the "Noti Lamp" is constantly proving...

These people are not as the outside world claims.

Once the ritual performer arrives at the High Ring, or if there is a responsible and knowledgeable mentor, the apprentice will soon see the 'true face' of the various sects—which is why Kishhai wasn't very responsible when telling Roland about Fernandez.

but.

To some extent, the "Golden Lamp of Nautilus" aligns with the doctrine of the Great Vortex.

One by one, people jumped down from black carriages embroidered with gold flame patterns, wearing black religious robes.

A rare look of nostalgia appeared in Peter Heller's eyes.

"...It's been at least ten years since I last saw him."

“Sir?” Young York followed his mentor. The young man, who was not yet a true executor, did not understand what his mentor was sighing about—he had not experienced it, but only arrived at the tail end of the Inquisition’s exceptionally 'lazy' decade.

“Have you heard this word, York?” Peter Heller dusted off his cuffs and pressed his hand on the handle of his cane: “Selector.”

"...Choose...what?"

“Front.” Peter Heller followed Blade and Sender, a group of black-clad clergymen ignoring the guards at the Great Vortex stronghold.

They are not qualified to intercept the benefactor's sword.

It's no wonder that members of parliament and nobles are worried. When this group of rule-breakers surrounds Kashgar, the destructive power they cause will be immeasurable.

“They were the best ‘strikers’,” Peter Heller paused, “but unfortunately…” Unfortunately, they fell into the hands of Enid Jutia.

He could only watch helplessly as the once incomparably sharp blade became a decoration on the bookshelf, gradually rusting and cracking year after year with the dampness of time and people's hearts, until it was completely turned into scrap iron.

Young York couldn't understand his mentor's words.

He only felt powerful and proud.

In particular, Roland Collins, who was at the "tip of the knife," was most fascinated and admired by the one who was hailed as the most outstanding ritualist of the new generation of the Inquisition—he wanted to be like that in the future.

"Hurry up and follow, sir! We're about to unleash our full power!"

It was at this point that young York revealed his childlike side.

Peter Heller smiled and patted him on the shoulder.

"There won't be any great display of power."

That's the fact.

Heller is right.

When the terrifying black torrent crashed into the encampment of these vine-headed creatures without warning, it was like a pack of wolves piercing a sheep's soft tent. Almost no one dared to step forward to stop them or ask any questions.

This caused the blade to shake its head countless times.

"Their faith is no longer pure."

Not just the sword of the benefactor. Whether it's the Great Vortex or the Ring of Eternal Silence, any believer of a true God should be prepared to sacrifice themselves for God—yet they allow this group of black cult members to run rampant in their own sanctuary.

"The Great Whirlpool wasn't like this before."

Peter Heller was suspicious.

He was referring to animal teeth.

Now it has become the mother tree.

"Halt! Burners! Who gave you permission to trespass into this sacred place, where only pure spirits may enter?"

at last.

Just as the bored Blade was about to start igniting the retreating leaves of the roadside plants with a cigarette butt, a green-robed figure led a large group of followers in a hurry.

They blocked the way, preventing the executive officer from going any further in.

"Of course it's the Father God, the Nature Walker."

Roland bowed with his hand on his chest: "How can the sword of a benefactor turn a blind eye to filth... Cultists, Your Excellency, we are tracking down a group of cultists—"

The green-robed leader frowned and interrupted Roland: "There are no cultists here, get out—"

boom!
Gunshots were fired.

The bullet pierced the green-robed man's thigh.

“Your opinion doesn’t count, gentlemen.”

Sender held his exquisite musket and spoke softly amidst the flapping of birds' wings.

Theodore was nearly driven mad.

"How could you!! You—you can't—"

He bypassed Roland and stood between the two groups.

"Stop! Stop! Listen to me—this isn't a—"

Roland pushed aside Theodore and led the officers straight to the building where Fonseca was imprisoned.

Blade glanced at the beaming Peter Heller and chuckled, "You're happy now, aren't you?"

"Is it obvious?"

“Quite obvious, old man. I see Kashhai has also appeared. You might as well leave the courtroom with him—if you miss this opportunity, there probably won't be another one.”

Blade, like Roland, clearly knew what Peter Heller was thinking... or his stance.

—He never tried to hide it.

Surprisingly, the old gentleman refused without hesitation.

"Not now, with the blade."

"Not now?"

“Not now.” He watched as little York ran around wildly, puffing out his chest triumphantly and imitating Roland Collins by tapping the children’s cane in his hand.

He is not the Holy Flame.

Besides poker…

His emotions have become more 'worldly', making it difficult for him to be 'noble' anymore.

(End of this chapter)