When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

#135 - The Great Purge

Imperial Calendar, November 4th, 1444.

The fleas' doomsday had arrived.

Hundreds of Black Hat soldiers marched in neat ranks into the new camp, taking control of all key routes.

Along with them came various brooms, shovels, and wicker baskets.

Urged on by the former legion commanders and the newly appointed heads of households, the migrants were forced to rise from their piles of garbage and numbly line up outside.

Under the frowning gaze of the Black-Clad Citizens from the old Gulag camp, nearly a thousand migrants were led to the stream.

Beside the stream were piles of firewood and nearly three hundred dilapidated wine barrels and water vats, salvaged or abandoned from the ruins.

These were all prepared by Casti at Horn's prior instruction.

The stream water was drawn up and poured into the large wooden barrels and vats, the scalding water emitting plumes of white steam.

The female migrants, however, were directed to another location.

The migrants stirred restlessly; the scene, the atmosphere – could it be that they were going to be boiled alive?

"Golden-tongued Scripture Master, what is going on here?"

"Are we going to be made into soup? I don't see any food."

Some of the bolder migrants stepped forward to ask.

Almand struggled up an earthen slope, imitating Horn's usual tone as he said:

"Everyone, before this, you merely bore the name of my Papal State, without formally undergoing the joining ceremony."

Almand shouted righteously, "To join my Papal State, you must undergo three great rites.

The first is the rite of baptism, to wash away sins and impurities. Those who are not devout will thrash and resist in the hot water, which is a sign of the devil!

The second is the rite of haircutting, to cut off your long hair and beards, imitating Eve and Adam. After the haircut, you are no longer who you once were, but newborns in this world.

The third is the rite of sacred song, which is to sing hymns and learn to step in prayer under the guidance of the household heads!"

Clearly, Almand did not have the same prestige among the new camp's migrants as he did in the old camp.

His words only elicited more suspicious glances.

But he had a backup plan. Almand winked at Thomas beside him.

Under the crowd's doubtful gazes, Thomas took the lead and went to the water vat.

The surface of the water vat radiated scalding steam. He stripped naked, hesitated for half a second, and then plunged into the vat.

"Hiss…" Suppressing his rapidly reddening face, Thomas gritted his teeth and forced a smile at the migrants, "It's not hot!"

"If it's not hot, don't stand there; close your eyes and sit down."

Just as Thomas wondered if he had misheard, two black-clad soldiers forcibly pressed his shoulders, submerging him in the scalding water.

The fiery burning sensation assaulted Thomas's skin. When he rose from the water again, he displayed his scalded, reddened black skin, half-crying and half-laughing as he said, "It's not hot!"

After all, if it were hot, it would mean that there was a devil in his heart.

In fact, the burning sensation Thomas felt did not only come from the hot water, but also from the cleaning potion prepared by Cesi.

It was more effective than normal cleaning potions and cost less, but at the expense of a slight branding sensation on the skin during use.

With Thomas's demonstration, the other migrants jumped into the hot water one by one.

Although they howled like ghosts and wolves at first, they eventually forced themselves to say "It's not hot."

As they gradually adjusted to the water temperature, they actually felt a sense of comfort, as if some burden had been washed away.

The fatigue of many days seemed to dissipate, and some of them even fell asleep in the hot water.

That was until the villagers from the old camp pulled out the pig bristle brushes.

"Ohohohoho… It doesn't hurt!"

"It doesn't hurt! Ah! It doesn't hurt at all!"

"Wuwuwu, it doesn't hurt at all!"

Emerging from the hot water, the migrants indeed felt a sense of rebirth, as if they had fallen into the devil's fiery hell and returned to the human world.

"If it doesn't hurt or burn, why are you crying?"

"These are tears of overwhelming joy; what do you know?" the migrants cried.

Every time the pig bristle brushes scrubbed their backs, they revealed reddish, mottled marks, and streaks of grime scattered in the hot water.

During this process, the villagers from the old camp would trim their beards and hair, cutting off all the tangled locks and whiskers.

During this time, their clothes would be smoked in front of the fire. The wood in the fire was soaked in insect repellent, which could just drive away all the fleas and small insects.

When they were washed, they would also be sprinkled with medicinal powder, brush their teeth, and trim their nails with small knives.

Finally, one by one, the migrants, red and white like boiled shrimp, stood blankly and joyfully by the roadside.

This strange feeling of cleanliness and lack of protection was something they had never experienced in their lives.

It really felt like a newborn infant.

Massive amounts of sewage were dumped downstream of the stream, turning the original clear water gray, with the corpses of fleas floating and sinking in the water.

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Almand stood before these "newborns" and began to preach to them.

"As long as you undergo baptism, which is repentance for your sins, you can atone for your crimes!" Almand said shamelessly.

"That doesn't seem to be in the doctrine," a devout believer said. "I've worked odd jobs in the church for twenty years and never heard of it."

"You are still too rigid. Understanding God's will is not just from the scriptures, but also from the heart."

Almand waved his hand dismissively, saying, "I came up with this doctrine from my heart.

Look, a merciful person would forgive someone who made mistakes three times. The Holy Father is merciful, so he would definitely be willing to forgive someone who made mistakes three times, and he would definitely be willing to let you atone for your crimes!"

"Eh, that seems to make some sense."

"What sense does it make? Isn't this just nonsense?"

"What? You understand again? Are you a priest? If you can, you come and interpret it!"

While people were being washed here, the camp was being washed there.

Basket after basket of rubble, garbage, and bone fragments were swept out of the tents and grass huts. Urged on by the heads of households, the migrants struggled to push the garbage to the large pit outside the camp.

For fleas and the like, there was also Cesi's cheap insect repellent powder.

This insect repellent powder was very low in cost and very effective, but it emitted an extremely strong and pungent heather scent.

Enough to make both fleas and people scream and leave.

From noon to evening, six hours were barely enough to wash half the people.

But it didn't matter. Those who were washed were separated from those who were not, and washing would continue tomorrow.

Collective actions, especially collective actions in which everyone participates, are the most convenient environment for establishing authority and expanding influence.

The great cleansing was not only a cleansing of people and residences, but also a cleansing of the remaining influence of the legion commanders.

Because the entire great cleansing process was coordinated and directed by Horn and his old camp, with the legion commanders only playing an advisory role.

Therefore, when the six-hour great cleansing was over, they would still subconsciously obey Horn's orders.

Of course, there were repetitions, but power was transferred step by step in this back-and-forth tug-of-war.

In addition, the sick migrants in the migrant camp were registered one by one, and Chilves's still never stopped.

Horn had purchased thousands of pounds of garlic at once, and another thousand pounds would arrive tomorrow. The extracted allicin would definitely be enough to treat these migrants.

Perhaps because they had not been tempered by antibiotics, these migrants were particularly sensitive to allicin, and the effect was amazing.

Even Horn's existence became mysterious and unpredictable.

The Holy Water of the Pope can really cure diseases!