A few days after Bethany Delamere's death, it was a rainy afternoon.
New Hanover, along the Camassa River near the Roanoke Mountains.
On both sides of the river, white tents have been artificially set up. A group of men and women wearing white or yellow robes with strange runes engraved on their foreheads live here. They seem to be living in this land that has not yet been fully civilized.
Like other normal people, they sweat and are busy, working together not only for their own survival, but also for the lives of their companions who they regard as family.
On a nearby high and raised cliff, a man wearing a black robe and a bare head with few hairs on his head led several young men and women who had not yet completely scabbed the rune-shaped wounds on their foreheads to stand.
On the cliff.
The man in black robe stood on the cliff closest to the camp. He only needed to take a step back, and he could have a blood-spattered intimate contact with the camp tent dozens of meters below his current altitude, but there was no trace of blood on his face.
There was no trace of fear, only abnormal enthusiasm and excitement.
"My brothers and sisters," he said, "just earlier today, the industrious messenger sent me the latest edict from the omniscient and omnipotent goddess from the great Shepherd."
The man in black robe fanatically scanned the young juniors in front of him with confusion in their eyes, and said, "You might as well guess what the goddess's will is."
"The goddess is omniscient and omnipotent, but we are just mortals, as small as we are, how can we guess the will of the goddess?" A young male congregant spoke.
The man in black robe recognized this young man. He had just received the baptism of the stigmata the day before yesterday, and the wounds on his forehead were still fresh blood red.
He rejected the young brother's immature views in a very gentle manner and said: "We have all been baptized by the goddess's grace and are defenders of the goddess's glory. The goddess's glory sympathizes with us and protects us. We ourselves
It is a part of the goddess, and we are the end of the infinite glory of the goddess. Therefore, what the goddess thinks and desires is what we think and desire. Therefore, as for the will of the goddess, if it is you
If you are pious enough, you will definitely be able to feel it."
The man in black robe looked at the ashamed young juniors in front of him and said with a smile: "I don't mean to blame you. I know that most of you have only accepted my teachings in the past week.
It’s understandable that I can’t feel the inspiration of the goddess despite my teachings.”
"I have gained the trust of Mr. Shepherd and have been the leader of this camp for a long time. I know very well that the accumulation of faith requires a process. Whether a believer of the goddess is pious or not depends on whether he is pious or not.
Be able to make offerings to the goddess for a long time and believe in the goddess, instead of just showing off when praying to the goddess."
"Moreover, it is precisely because you lack faith that you are standing here now, because you need me as a messenger to convey the will of the goddess to you."
When the "seventh generation" new believers heard this, they knelt down and bowed their heads, made solemn gestures with their hands that they would only make when praying, and said: "I sincerely listen to the divine message of the goddess."
The man in black robe smiled with satisfaction.
He paused, as if the news made him so excited that he had to adjust his breathing before speaking.
"The goddess's oracle is very simple," the man in black robe's voice lowered unconsciously at this moment, "'Six generations are dead, seven generations will last forever'."
Hearing these words, all the young congregants who knelt in front of the man in black robes raised their heads, with mixed emotions of shock and ecstasy on their faces.
"I think none of you don't know the meaning of these eight words, right?" The man in black robe smiled, and he was very satisfied with the reaction of these young people.
"Six generations are dead, but seven generations live forever."
Even those who have just joined the "Seventh Generation" sect know the meaning of these eight words, because this sentence is one of the doctrines that these people often talk about, and represents the purpose of the "Seventh Generation" sect.
Armed to overthrow the evil and backward old world created by the sixth generation of old humans, judge those old humans who are addicted to depravity and evil, and build a new world bathed in the glory of the goddess.
And this sentence, delivered by the goddess to all her believers in the form of an oracle, has an extra layer of meaning.
The holy war is about to begin.
"That's right!" The man in black robe did not suppress his inner emotions at this moment, shouting like a chant, "The holy war is about to begin! After being persecuted by this evil and corrupt world for so long, we can finally use our blood to
Use fire to wash away evil, destroy corruption, and let the glory of the goddess shine on the earth! It won't be long before the great 'Shepherd' will call us and lead us to unite and burn this world into ruins!"
"Long live the goddess! Long live the Shepherd!" Thunderous shouts echoed in the empty mountains and clear rivers.
"Wait! My brothers and sisters! Get ready! Loyal followers of Lord 'Shepherd'! Fight! Loyal defenders of the glory of the goddess!" the man in black robe shouted like crazy.
Thunder exploded in the gloomy sky, and the rain seemed to have mobilized the flames hidden in the soul, which became a little bigger, like the terrifying cry of another new world hidden under the existing world.
Just when this small rally was reaching its most emotional climax, an abrupt middle-aged man's voice suddenly sounded:
"I'm sorry to disturb you, but I think your jihad plan needs to make some changes."
Only then did the man in black robe notice that a middle-aged man on a horse with a repeating rifle on his shoulder looked at them expressionlessly. Behind him were a dozen gunmen, although they were slovenly dressed, but they were loaded with ammunition.
This middle-aged man has long, middle-parted hair that just falls to his shoulders. He wears a gambler's hat that has been worn to the point where his eyes are no longer visible. The dirty dust-proof windbreaker on his body seems to be brightly colored after being washed by the rain.
Quite a few.
"Intruder, tell me your name." The black-robed man's face was full of anger, which is the emotion that can easily turn into fanaticism.
"Want to know my name? You're not qualified yet," the middle-aged man said, raising his gun and pointing in the direction behind the man in black robe. "Look down the mountain. I think the sound of rain today did cover up a lot.
Other voices, aren't there?"
The man in black robe subconsciously looked down the cliff, only to see a hell-like scene.
The white tents on the river beach were now dyed scarlet. Several men on horseback and armed with guns shuttled through the camp, imitating the poor Indian war cry and shouting loudly.
His hard-working and respectable brothers and sisters were all lying on the ground silently at this time. Some had several terrible bloody holes on their bodies, while others were missing body parts, such as arms, legs, or heads.
These people who once worked hard like ordinary working people, who once killed people and set fires like crazy desperadoes, are now just piles of lifeless flesh and blood.
The river became violent due to the heavy rain and swallowed up the corpses of these "seventh generation" believers, carrying them downstream and rushing downstream.
The river water is stained red by the blood of these people, just like when we eat mulberry or red dragon fruit, our teeth and lips will be stained red by their pulp and juice.
"No!" On the cliff, the man in black robe fell to his knees with a plop and roared angrily, "Who are you! Why did you do this!"
The middle-aged man said with an indifferent attitude: "Reduce your number, so that the next thing will be easier to handle."
He made a gesture that only he and his men could understand. Behind him, several gunmen with grinning faces controlled the horses and walked out of the queue. In their hands, they held the lasso most commonly used by cowboys.
Even in uncivilized primitive mountainous areas, no matter how fierce the rain is, it will always stop.
There is a temporary camp in the primeval forest not far from the just-destroyed "Seventh Generation" sect camp. This camp belongs to the initiator of the bloody tragedy more than ten minutes ago.
The middle-aged man was lying in his tent with his eyes closed and concentrating. He didn't mind hearing the sound of whips coming from not far away, the screams and curses of the tortured, and the interrogation of the torturer.
and curses.
Unfortunately, his rest time was not long. After about twenty minutes, the middle-aged man was woken up by one of his men.
"What's wrong?" He rubbed his eyes and asked with some boredom.
"Boss, these cultists don't say anything useful except farts that only they can understand." said the younger brother who came to wake him up.
"Trash!" the middle-aged man scolded, "Don't you understand even if you are trying to judge an individual? Do I have to do everything myself? Then what use do I need you for?"
The younger brother was so scolded that he dared not speak. He would not be stupid enough to speak directly in front of the boss. The first two cult leaders who were interrogated to death by him also said nothing.
The middle-aged men emerged from the tent with some irritability and came to the place where their captives were bound.
The man in black robe has had his robe taken off at this time, revealing his weather-beaten and thin body. This body is now burdened with whip marks that it cannot bear according to common sense, but the eyes of the owner of this body are still full of joy.
Loyalty and fanaticism were not shaken by physical pain at all.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk," the middle-aged man walked up to him. Instead of taking the whip handed to him, he took out his dagger and played with it. He raised his eyes and looked at the man on the tree who was full of injuries but full of energy, and sighed,
"It's the first time I've seen such a great guy like you, my bones are pretty damn hard."
The scarred man snorted coldly and said, "You may torture me, evil intruder, but you will never get any information about our great leader from me."
"Alas," the middle-aged man sighed helplessly and said, "Same thing, I have told your two previous colleagues that I am here to seek cooperation, but why are you both acting like this?
What about the virtue of not letting oil and salt enter?"
"Cooperation?" The man in the tree sneered and said, "So, brutally killing innocent people, then kidnapping the survivors, and torturing them with cruel punishments, do you think these behaviors are a means to seek cooperation?"
"No, of course not, sir," the middle-aged man waved the dagger in his hand to deny, saying, "This is just a means to achieve my goal that I cannot choose."
"Huh, what a clever word." The bound man didn't believe it at all.
"Let me start from the beginning," the middle-aged man said, pretending to be telling a story in a leisurely manner. "In the beginning, we asked your people to meet with your leaders in a dialogue."
"But not only did they arbitrarily reject our proposal, they also shot and wounded one of my brothers," the middle-aged man said, beckoning to a man with a blood-stained bandage on his shoulder, pointing to him
The prisoner looked at him and said, "Well, you see, the wound was still infected, and we had to remove a large piece of rotten flesh from him."
The middle-aged man's eyes indicated that the injured brother could go back to rest. While pacing, he said: "At first, we were only forced to fight back, but later I realized one thing. Perhaps, we should really use our
We use the desperado method to show our strength, so as to show our own initiative, so I directly bloodbathed the other camp of yours that I found next, leaving not a single person alive."
"I originally wanted to take down a few more of your strongholds and then talk about meeting with your boss again, but I don't have the patience anymore," the middle-aged man approached the man tied up in the tree and said, "So, I hope you can cooperate.
Our job is to tell you where to find your leaders, and believe me, we will have a great time working with you."
The man who had become a prisoner just stubbornly closed his eyes, turned his head, and refused to cooperate.
"Okay, okay, you guys just won't shed tears until you see the coffin, right? Okay, I'll satisfy you." The middle-aged man said irritably and signaled to his men, and two strong men immediately came out and spoke with
Brutal force pulled the man's head upright on the tree, while the middle-aged man himself picked out a young man from the row of "Seventh Generation" congregants on the other side who were tied like pigs to be slaughtered, and threw him on his captive
before.
"You are often active in New Hanover and Ambarino, so you have probably never heard of the Skinned Brothers, right?" He squatted down, lightly scratched the young man's cheek with the dagger in his hand, and said, "Honestly, I
I have never seen such a crazy group of people. Take us for example, we kill without blinking an eye and like to torture others, but our ultimate goal is to make money. Killing and torture are just some of the means by which we make money.
."
"But they are different." The middle-aged man's hand holding the dagger seemed to tremble. "Those people never seem to need money, because what they want cannot be bought with money. They like to use
They use various methods to torture and kill others, just like eating and drinking. If you don't do it for a day, you will feel uncomfortable all over. Moreover, the methods they use are countless times more cruel than us."
"So I thought, how about using two of their most commonly used methods on you today for you to watch?" A cruel smile appeared on the corner of the middle-aged man's mouth, and he said, "The Skinning Brothers Gang likes to use it the most.
The methods used on others include scalping and another, cutting open the stomach and pulling out the intestines."
"As far as I know, if a person is scalped, he can live for about a week, but if his intestines are pulled out, he will die in pain after six or seven hours." The middle-aged man suddenly pulled up the hair of the captive on the ground.
Say, "Which project do you want to experience? Or should you try them all? Don't worry, I will definitely comply with your wishes."
The captive, who was pinned to the ground and unable to struggle, was now extremely frightened. He cried loudly, losing control of his eyes and crotch: "No, no, no, please, please forgive me."
I."
"I can't satisfy you with just this request," the middle-aged man grinned. The dagger had already cut through the prisoner's scalp. "Since you don't choose, I will automatically choose to scalp for you! To be honest, my parents used to scalp.
It’s my first time to cross an Indian’s scalp, so it’s best not to struggle, otherwise I can’t control what will happen, hahahahaha…”
The middle-aged man smiled crazily, even crazier than the previous man in black robe. His dagger had already cut a deep and ever-expanding gash on the forehead of the prisoner beneath him, and that
The young prisoner cried out in fear and begged for mercy, but no one paid any attention to him. The people around him just watched with interest as their boss scalped him alive, without even a hint of mercy in their eyes.
"stop!"
Just when the poor young man's scalp was about to be completely cut open, the middle-aged man's desired voice finally sounded, interrupting the trajectory of his dagger.
"Beaver Cave," the man on the tree gasped, and seemed to be shouting with all his strength, "He... he let them go in Beaver Cave, and I will lead you..."
"Very good," the middle-aged man put the young man's head and face covered in blood away, put away the dagger, and said, "You made a wise choice, sir. I believe that your leader and I will
The meeting will bring gratifying results."
Everyone in the temporary camp immediately took action. In less than ten minutes, everything was packed up on their horses, and the "seventh generation" believers were also untied.
The man put on his black robe again and mounted the horse prepared for him by the group.
He looked back at the bewildered congregants behind him, smiled bitterly, and said, "Go to the nearest camp. Don't call me an informer. Of course, that's fine if you really want to say that. I won't."
OK."
Roanoke Mountains, the deepest part of Beaver Cave.
The great leader of the "Seventh Generation" sect, "Shepherd" Virgil Edwards gently put down his own special dagger, waved his hand, and asked the congregants standing by to torture the man who had been tortured under his hands.
The dying woman was thrown out of the cave.
Too many things have happened in recent times. "Prophet" Fitch and "Preacher" Delamere have been arrested successively, which makes him a little irritated. "Baptism" for young women who are not of the same religion can help
He calmed down and gained a brief moment of peace.
The so-called "baptism" is to use knives to perform various artistic creations such as "carving" and "peeling" on the whole body of the "baptized person", with the ultimate goal of bringing the maximum achievable pain to the "baptized person", and the "baptized person"
"You can't die during the whole process. This is a technical job, and Virgil Edwards is the master of it.
"Your Mightiness."
A man with black hair shawl and a calm temperament called him.
Virgil Edwards said with some boredom: "Brother Allen, didn't I tell you? If there's nothing important, don't bother me."
"A 'driver' is back," Allen said calmly, "and he brought us some visitors."
When Virgil Edwards heard this, his expression froze. He thought carefully and said, "Let the representatives of the visitors come in. Remember to unload his weapons, arrange more people, and keep an eye on other people outside."
"I obey the imperial decree, your great lord." Allen bowed and turned to leave.
Not long after, Allen brought a middle-aged man in and introduced to the man: "This is the great leader of our sect, Mr. Shepherd."
"Nice to meet you, His Excellency the Great Shepherd, or Dear Mr. Edwards," the middle-aged man took off his hat and bowed slightly, and said, "Let me introduce myself, my name is Colm.
?O'Drisco, maybe you have heard of me, maybe you have not heard of me, it doesn't matter."
"Well, Mr. O'Driscoe," Virgil Edwards turned around, looked at the smiling visitor, and said, "Tell me, what is important?"
"I know some relevant information about the initiator of the recent arrests of important leadership figures of yours," Colm said calmly, "and I have a cooperative project here. I wonder if you, Mr. Shepherd, are interested?"