Under the influence of the Watcher's hallucinogenic drugs, the enraged Oldtown rioters became like madmen, seemingly completely devoid of pain or fear.
Wielding crude weapons, they charged recklessly at the monks who possessed considerable martial prowess.
These monks, who stood at the forefront, had almost all received professional knight training within their families, and initially, they paid no mind to these rioters.
A burly monk even scoffed loudly, saying,
"Brothers, don't hold back! Hit them hard! These lowlifes, these ants, once they see blood, they'll scatter like rats and cockroaches!"
With that, he swung his massive fist at an old man beside him who was holding a cleaver.
His punch landed squarely on the old man's face, knocking out almost all of the old man's remaining teeth.
The instant the old man was sent flying by his immense strength, he deftly snatched the cleaver from the old man's right hand.
Then, he flung the old man's body away like a rag, sending the crowd that was swarming him stumbling back several steps.
Some of the weaker individuals were directly knocked down and couldn't get up.
However, those behind them continued to surge forward like a tide, quickly trampling the fallen underfoot.
The robust monk, now armed with the cleaver, wielded the worn-out weapon with incredible speed, each strike either killing or wounding a rioter.
In less than a few moments, his surroundings were completely piled with corpses, which significantly hampered his movements.
The robust monk, already somewhat exhausted, couldn't help but curse under his breath,
"Are these cockroaches insane today? Why aren't they afraid of death at all?"
But just then, a large stone was flung violently towards him.
The robust monk quickly dodged aside, and just as he narrowly avoided the incoming stone, a filthy pitchfork plunged directly into his left chest.
In excruciating pain, the robust monk instinctively yanked the pitchfork, pulling the rioter who was holding onto it along with it, bringing him close.
Then, with a single cleaver strike, he nearly severed the rioter's neck.
By this point, the worn-out cleaver in his hand was completely blunted, and the intense pain made him feel dizzy.
He watched helplessly as another stone flew towards him, hitting him squarely in the face, before he unwillingly collapsed among the corpses surrounding him.
This robust monk had almost the highest combat power among all the monks.
If even he fell so quickly at the hands of rioters who were usually powerless, then the fate of the other monks was obvious.
Those monks who charged forward were accustomed to being arrogant and overbearing, relying on their superior martial skills.
They not only disdained these common rioters but also looked down upon the monks of common birth who served in the Starry Sept.
If anyone dared to defy their wishes, unless they had already ascended to the position of Bishop, they would suffer their bullying.
They shared a similar belief with the robust monk: that these lowlifes, once they saw blood or were intimidated, would immediately scatter like birds and beasts.
That's why they bravely charged directly to the front lines.
However, today's rioters far exceeded their expectations.
These ant-like commoners, as if drugged, completely disregarded life and death.
As the saying goes, two fists are no match for four hands, let alone the dozens of hands these monks faced?
So, in a short while, the monks who charged ahead were either crushed by stones, stabbed by old farm tools and cleavers, or torn apart alive by the enraged rioters.
Many who tried to turn and flee were tackled by the rioters and trampled to death.
Meanwhile, the Bishops hiding inside the Starry Sept were completely stunned by the bloody scene unfolding before them.
"Are they insane?"
"This is utter blasphemy! Don't they fear the Seven Gods' punishment?"
The obese Archbishop of the Starry Sept, who was leading them, trembled incessantly, whether from anger or fear.
His pale, flabby flesh seemed to be quivering so much that it might ooze oil, and the gold and jewel ornaments on his body jingled with his every tremor.
The other Bishops, who still retained some rationality, arranged for people to securely seal the doors and windows of the Sept.
They also directed people to move anything that could serve as a barrier and pile it behind the main door of the Sept.
"Your Grace, what should we do? They are about to break into the church!"
Some timid monks couldn't help but ask the obese Bishop in trembling voices.
The obese Bishop feigned calmness and said,
"These rioters must have been incited by someone, but now that there's blood everywhere outside, I believe their courage won't last much longer!"
"Furthermore, they have long prostrated themselves under the glory of the Seven Gods.
Don't be fooled by their ferocity outside; I am certain they dare not break into the church."
"Besides, the main door of our Sept is made of thousand-year-old Weirwood and covered with a thick bronze casing.
Without specialized equipment, those rioters won't be able to breach the Sept's defenses."
However, despite the obese Bishop's confident words, his shrewd eyes were constantly darting around.
Seeing that the doors and windows were mostly sealed, the obese Bishop said to everyone,
"Since the doors and windows are sealed, then let everyone pray devoutly in the Sept!
Pray that the Seven Gods will punish those rioters! Let these ignorant commoners who blaspheme the Seven Gods know that the Starry Sept is sacred and inviolable."
The obese Bishop's actions caused several Bishops of common birth, dressed in simple monk robes, to reveal expressions of disdainful mockery.
One of the tall, thin Bishops even let out a cold snort directly,
"The Seven Gods should indeed punish those blasphemers, otherwise, the monks of the Seven Gods Church will all become lapdogs for the nobles."
"I wonder if the Seven Gods will hear the prayers of those dirty fellows, and if He will withdraw His gaze that overlooks all beings?"
The Bishops present seemed accustomed to this tall Bishop's sharp tongue, so no one reacted.
Only the obese Bishop's fat face twitched again, and then he slowly pushed his corpulent body towards the Starry Sept's treasury.
As the highest-ranking Bishop in the Starry Sept, he was not only a direct descendant of the Hightower Family but also managed the Starry Sept's treasury.
Therefore, he naturally knew that the Sept's treasury was the safest place in the Starry Sept.
An hour later, all the monks outside the Starry Sept lay in pools of blood, and the Oldtown rioters began to furiously assault the main door of the Starry Sept.
Just then, a sky-filling blaze erupted from the direction of the Hightower.
-------------------------
If you enjoy this story, you can read 70+ advanced chapters on Patreon!
Webnovel will keep getting 1 new chapter every day but Patreon readers can stay far ahead.
Maybe it's not a big deal now… maybe it will be later.
[email protected]/Greyhounds
"And If you're enjoying it, drop a Power Stone for me!"