The Last Frontier of Fire and Sword

Early the next morning, Dean Koldecki announced his decision in public. He first expressed his gratitude to all those who have fought bravely for the monastery so far-whether they are nobles, peasants or mercenaries. At the same time, Dean Koldecki expressed his understanding, given that some people could no longer contribute to the defense of the monastery for various reasons. He agreed to open the gate for two hours and let these people leave the monastery, provided that the secrets in the monastery were not allowed to be leaked.

Some unsteady people looked at each other, but did not stand up. They suspected that this was the abbot's tactics. But when the gate of the monastery really opened, these people couldn't sit still. They packed up the softness one after another, wrapped their faces in headscarves and walked out the door.

Cheerchen and Natalie stood on both sides of the gate with forty monks, watching these people leave. Among the forty-seven people who left, Natalie saw little Kearney. He covered his entire face with a headscarf, and his exposed two eyes carefully peeked around, lest people recognize him. Come. When little Kearney saw Natalie looking at him, he retracted his eyes with a wince, and walked with his head down.

The originally scheduled two-hour opening time only took less than 30 minutes and the people who should go were gone. To Koldecki's relief, less than one-tenth of the total number of the monastery had left without giving up the hope of holding on.

When the gate of the monastery was closed again, Dean Koldecki got news that the old man Kornicki, the former swordsman in Warsaw, had passed away.

Those who left the monastery were surrounded by the Swedish soldiers as soon as they got down the mountain. After the necessary body searches and inspections, they were taken to the square of the barracks. Here, the Swedish military officers will screen them.

Little Kearney saw a delicate-faced young Swedish officer standing on a stage as high as one person. When everyone walks in front of him, his finger will point to the left or right. With the increase in the number of people selected, Kearney discovered that the Swedish officer seemed to have a magical power to accurately distinguish a person's identity. He saw that farmers and mercenaries to the right were basically peasants and mercenaries, and nobles and monks to the left.

Finally, it was Kearney's turn.

"I am a nobleman." Little Kearney directly revealed his identity.

The young Swedish officer nodded and motioned to Kearney to go to the left.

Then, the two teams were taken away separately.

Little Kearney and the others were taken into a tent, where there was another officer sitting at a desk made of birch, bowing his head and recording something.

"Name, title, position." For everyone, this officer had only three questions.

Some people reported their real names, while others reported false names.

When it was Kearney's turn, Kearney hesitated.

"Popovic." Kearney gave a false name.

The officer looked up at him with a faint smile, and then wrote his name on it.

At this time, there was a burst of gunfire outside the tent. Little Kearney trembles with fright.

The officer closed the notebook. He smiled and said, "Give you another chance, or you will be the same as those just now."

Little Kearney's pupils shrank sharply. He guessed that those on the right were all executed. Because they are farmers and mercenaries, these people have no value to the Swedes.

"My name is Kearney, and my grandfather is the former Warsaw swordsman Kornicki..." Little Kearney said everything about himself like a bamboo tube. He wants to let the officer in front of him know that he is an important and valuable person.

And other people learn the same.

The Swedish officer who had finished taking notes walked out of the tent. After a difficult hour, Kearney was always worried that a group of Swedish soldiers would rush in and take him away and shot him.

"It would be better to stay in the monastery if you knew it earlier," someone whispered desperately.

But it's too late for this afterthought.

The curtain of the tent was lifted. Frzezhovich walked in with Arvid Widenberg.

Some people in the open hood recognized Wydenberg and Frzezhovic, and they greeted the two in a hurry.

"Everyone, the general knows that you are all noble nobles, and will give you treatment in line with your status." Frzezhovic said.

Everyone hurriedly thanked the general for his kindness.

"However," Frzezhovich changed his voice and continued: "I will have something to ask you, and the general also hopes that you can answer truthfully."

Then, Frzezhovic asked questions about the location of the monastery’s gun positions, the number of defenders, the number of food and munitions, and more questions about whether the nobles concealed their treasures. Some things about the monastery are known to Kearney, some do not know, and some only know part of the information. This is because Kearney is not a professional person, and their memories come only from what they see. A lot of information is inaccurate, and even the answers to the same question are often contradictory to each other; and everyone is silent on other questions.

Wiedenberg watched what Frzezhovich recorded, and none of them admitted that he was hiding his treasure. He thinks that these people are deliberately deceiving themselves, and none of them are honest. The general's white beard stood up, and he immediately disguised himself as kindness. He ordered Frzezhovic to torture these people severely.

Regarding the general's orders, Frzezhovic did not dare to neglect. He called in a group of Polish puppet troops and set aside everyone in the tent.

The torture began. Frzezhovich’s people were not good at war, but torture was an expert. Little Kearney was stripped off and he was hung up. A Polish puppet soldier held a horse whip and slammed Kearney's body severely. After a while, little Kearney was covered in blood. Because of the cold weather, the blood from the wound condensed into ice on the skin early. From a distance, Kearney looked like he was wearing a red ribbon.

The other people were not less punished than Kearney. Some people’s heads were pressed into the cold water ~www.wuxiaspot.com~ while others were grilled on the fire.

The executioner was tired. An officer took a notebook and asked questions again. As long as the answer was inconsistent with the first recorded answer, a new beating would be incurred.

"The caliber of the gun on the left side of the monastery." The officer asked Kearney.

"Six-pounder," Kearney said weakly.

"But you were talking about a three-pounder gun." The officer said after checking his notes.

"I remembered wrong." Little Kearney admitted wrong.

"So where are your family's assets in Krakow hidden?" the officer asked again.

"Hidden under a poplar tree in the Vadovace Forest." Little Kearney confessed.

But this did not bring safety to Kearney. As soon as he finished speaking, the officer tore off the blood scab on Little Kearney's wound.

"Anything else?" the officer asked.

"No more." Little Kearney was sore and out of strength.

The officer tore off another piece.

Little Kearney screamed heartbreakingly, the pain was beyond words.

But the executioners did not have the slightest sympathy. One of the executioners took a torch and said to little Kearney: "Let's be cold, sir. I'll warm you up."

After speaking, the man burned little Kearney's waist with a torch...

The cruel criminal law went on for a whole day. Few people survived. The cry of the victim could even be heard in the monastery.

"My lord, he is dead."

The executioner pointed to a piece of charcoal-like object and said to Frzezhovic.

"Did you ask anything useful?"

"I asked, there are three locations in total."

"Well then, put that disgusting thing down and bury it. It's disgusting!" Frzezhovic said, covering his nose.