Silla muttered in a daze, kicked away the gangsters who were tugging on his pants, climbed up to the second floor which was almost in ruins, and looked into the distance.
Not far away, I saw a dark sea of people. They were marching towards the church from all directions with firm steps. They were waving torches and all kinds of strange weapons in their hands.
Iron rods, wooden sticks, and even nailed wooden boards picked up from the street, these poor people's weapons look so ridiculous, and their thin bodies look so weak.
But when they gathered together, when these sparks began to gather, even Silla looked at it from a distance and couldn't help but feel weak in her legs.
Countless people ignited by anger turned into the most fearless warriors. Their roars were war drums. They charged and shouted, bursting out with incredible energy.
But Silla could only cling to the broken wall blankly, murmuring like crazy:
"Impossible...impossible..."
At the same time, on the sea, Grosso was standing on the bow of the merchant ship, staring blankly at the people on the beach who were constantly approaching the church.
"Lawrence, can you actually do this?"
Even Grosso, who had seen countless storms and waves, had rarely seen such a scene. The untouchables who were usually at the lowest level actually picked up all the weapons they could find and charged at the enemies with muskets and swords.
Just watching from a distance, Grosso already felt a little hot all over his body. As a soldier, facing such a fiery charge scene, Grosso couldn't help but have the urge to join in.
"Hey, Grosso, the two warships are catching up."
The captain patted Grosso's shoulder uneasily and said worriedly that he didn't want to put the entire ship in just for a few pounds of gold.
"It's fine."
Grosso stared intently at the battlefield on the beach, took the captain's hand off his shoulder, and said without looking back:
"Believe Laurence Bonaparte, he has everything planned out."
After a while, the two warships indeed slowed down after a symbolic pursuit, without even firing a single shot during the whole process.
On the beach, people were still approaching the church.
Silla stood there in a daze. All plots and calculations were as useless as paper in front of the endless power of the people.
Until now, Ciro still doesn't understand how Lawrence woke up these people and launched an attack on him:
"Damn it! Lawrence, how did he do it? He used money to buy it... It's impossible for him to have so much money and force these untouchables to come... Even I can't do such a thing! Damn it! No
possible!"
The gang members in the church were also given muskets and ammunition, but when they looked at the dark sea of people outside, they didn't even think about reloading.
Some people even looked at the people as if they had lost their souls, and sat down on the ground. The lead bullets in their hands were scattered on the ground, but they didn't even think about picking them up.
The distance between the two sides is getting closer. Through the empty windows, the gang members and the people can already see each other's faces. Silla, who is standing on the second floor, also sees the person who put him in this situation in the crowd.
Prime culprit.
"Laurence Bonaparte!"
Silla shouted loudly and angrily hit the broken wall full of glass shards with one hand, splattering blood all over his palm.
Lawrence also discovered Ciro on the second floor. Regarding this serious problem that he had had since coming to Corsica, Lawrence just raised his head slightly and looked at Ciro, with a slightly curved mouth, showing a mocking smile.
When the distance between the two parties shortened infinitely, the people were shocked to find that there were many familiar faces among the church members:
"That's Scarface Luca! The bastard who blackmails me every week!"
"Oh my God, there's even Shorty Cole! Why is this beast here too!"
"And Gert the maned dog! My son's leg was broken by him!"
"I know, they are all in the same group!"
...
These gang members who usually oppressed one party and preyed on the common people were quickly recognized by the people, and the people immediately realized that Ciro Russell was absolutely inseparable from these people.
The gang members who were recognized suddenly trembled, their legs became weak and they retreated towards the church. Many people directly dropped their muskets on the ground, without any will to resist.
"Hang them!"
Someone in the crowd took the lead and shouted loudly, which instantly pushed the excited people to a climax and rushed towards the church.
After only a few sporadic gunshots were heard, a few people at the front were shot and fell, but the endless sea of people behind them stepped over their fallen bodies and continued to charge towards the church, shouting and charging.
This was a completely one-sided battle. The iron rods and wooden clubs in the hands of the people were hitting the gang members like a heavy rain. The entire church hall was filled with the wailing and disintegrating cries of the gang members.
Just a few minutes later, Ya'an came to report to Lawrence with his sword still dripping blood. From Ya'an's tone, Lawrence also heard some relief:
"Sir, Silla has been captured. The rest have either given up resistance or died."
After that, I saw a group of patrols walking out of the church, and among them was a man with a bruised nose and face covered in blood.
The man's legs could no longer use their strength. It was unknown whether they were broken, so he had to be dragged out by the arms of two patrolmen.
If it weren't for the protection of the patrols, he would have been torn to pieces by the fanatical people.
After being thrown in front of Lawrence, the man had to support his body with both hands, lying on the ground, looked up at Lawrence miserably, and said with a sad smile:
"Laurence Bonaparte, this is the second time we have met."
Lawrence lowered his head and glanced at him. Even though his face was bruised and stained with blood, he could still tell that this was Ciro Russell.
Ya'an stood behind Lawrence, his eyes fixed on Silla, and the hand holding the sword couldn't stop trembling.
"Come here, allocate manpower to maintain order. People can ignore the looting in the church, but it cannot spread to the city. Ya'an, you carry him and follow me."
Lawrence ignored Siro, but glanced at the people looting supplies in the church, and gave instructions to the patrols around him.
Ya'an followed Lawrence's order, walked to Silla, squatted down, grabbed his collar, hesitated for two seconds and punched Silla directly on the chin:
"Beast! This punch is for Christina, my love, that poor textile worker."
As several bloody teeth flew out, Ya'an clenched his fists and resisted the urge to punch him again. He carried the semi-conscious Silla on his shoulders and followed Lawrence's footsteps.
The three of them stayed away from the fanatical crowd and arrived at the beach not far away.
The sun on the beach at noon was very bright and warmed people's bodies, but Silla lying on the beach only felt cold all over, blood was still oozing from her nose and the corners of her eyes, and the severe pain in her legs made him even more...