On the streets of Leyndell, Godrick, the Golden Lineage's foremost wastrel in the royal capital, stood in the bed of a wagon and shouted himself hoarse. "Hey, hey! Look this way! Yes, I mean you idiots gathering over there!"
Godrick's behavior drew the attention of some passersby. He was pleased; the more people there were, the more excited he became.
"You idiots have all been fooled!" He hurled abuse at the passersby without a care.
The Troll pulled the wagon slowly forward. The passersby being insulted seethed but dared not speak, not only because of Godrick's status, but also because of the knights and personal soldiers protecting him.
"You clueless idiots still want to go to Roundtable Hold and demand justice?" Godrick clapped his hands. "Take a look at this!"
He whipped away the canvas covering the cargo, revealing a cross. The soldiers in the wagon bed pushed it upright, with the Godskin Apostle's corpse hanging from it. A wooden stake secured the Godskin Apostle's head to his neck, and his arms were spread and bound to the cross, putting him in the posture of someone being executed.
This had also been one of the tasks assigned to Crepus's team of confessors the previous night.
They were to meet up with Bagralim's team, eliminate any stragglers in Windmill Village, and retrieve the Godskin Apostle's corpse.
Compared with knights, who excelled on the front lines, confessors were better at working behind the scenes. Bagralim and the others had also kept the knights occupied, buying the confessors more time.
The Gelmir Knights had come up completely empty-handed. That was why, without hard evidence, they could only make accusations without a clear target, then steer public opinion.
The Godskin Apostle's corpse could clear the Tarnished's name, and that task had been entrusted to