Hell has invaded, but my Hextech is invincible!

Chapter 107 Your Excellency, Bishop, Why Have You Rebelled?

Two hours ago, it was still dark, with the first rays of dawn appearing.

Newcastle enters a new era starting today.

The era of Tyrion Seghest.

Tyrion sat in his office, sipping the finest North African tea, and though he had barely slept all night, he was full of energy.

Last night, most of the church chiefs, local dignitaries, and powerful figures in Newcastle pledged their loyalty to Tyrion and sided with him.

Overnight, Tyrion felt as if he had become several years younger, both physically and mentally, and was in better shape than ever before.

Compared to his days in London, where he held a high-ranking but powerless clerical position, being transferred to Newcastle to wield real power was like a life-saving rain.

Now, powerful figures backed by their families and wealthy businessmen who control the city's industries are all vying to kneel before him and curry favor.

Everyone recounted the bitterness of being oppressed by the Tuttle family over the years, and then fawned over him to show their loyalty and devotion.

After just one public trial, the bill he had previously tried to implement but had encountered obstacles at every turn was now given the green light and immediately put into effect.

Many rule changes that were previously difficult to implement were quickly finalized and implemented.

Even many measures he had never imagined came to fruition.

At this moment, Tyrion finally understood why those clergy and nobles of the same social class were so obsessed with vying for power and climbing to higher positions.

It turns out that power is the best aphrodisiac for mankind.

It can make people feel spirited and youthful again, and it can also give people unparalleled confidence and dignity.

Before six o'clock in the morning, when it was still dark, he was already awake and got up, full of energy and not tired at all.

To his surprise, his usually lazy and easygoing nephew, Maud, also got up early to organize documents and files, preparing for his official duties that day.

Not only was Tyrion full of vigor, but Mordekaiser was also infected by this aura and was full of vitality.

This is the effect of power.

Tyrion put down his teacup, bent over his desk, and quickly reviewed the documents, personally annotating and signing each key document.

In the previous month, his written instructions were ignored, and he even had to carefully consider the wording to avoid causing misunderstandings with Tuttle.

But now he knows clearly that his will will be thoroughly implemented throughout Newcastle.

Just then, a steady footstep sounded behind me.

Without turning his head, Tyrion casually ordered, "Morde, prepare breakfast."

"I have an important meeting at nine o'clock."

"I have already annotated and made revisions to the speech material from last night."

"After you've corrected it with a typewriter, please review it for me again."

"besides-

'

"Heh." A mocking laugh suddenly broke out.

"No need for speaking materials."

"That meeting has been cancelled."

The unfamiliar voice rang out, and Tyrion's heart skipped a beat.

That's not Maud's voice!

He suddenly stood up and turned around, only to see an elderly man in his seventies with white hair and beard, dressed in a holy bishop's robe and leaning on a simple walking stick, standing quietly behind him.

"You're back!!" Tyrion's expression changed drastically.

The old man remained calm, showing no emotion in the face of Tyrion's sudden loss of composure.

He pointed to a document on the table that Tyrion had already signed and said, "This proposal is probably inappropriate."

"This year's tax revenue has reached 25%. The dredging of the river and the renovation of the gas pipeline in the second district have been very costly. If we want to build an integrated urban pipeline network, we suggest that we carry out the construction in three phases, which would be more prudent and safe."

"Müller-Tattle!" Tyrion's tone suddenly turned cold, his eyes filled with shock.

Answer me!

"Why are you back early? What are you doing in my office?!"

"I came back as soon as I finished my work." Muller's expression was calm, revealing no emotion.

"The damage from the Manchester Hellgate incident was much milder than expected."

"Mother Irene led the army to suppress the disaster to a minimum."

"Fortunately, the dark forbidden zone there has not yet taken shape, and there are not many monsters."

"With the support of the parishes of Manchester and Birmingham, the cleanup is basically complete."

"Bishop Ian McGregor of Birmingham has taken over the work."

"I will turn back first."

"Now it seems I came back too late."

"Newcastle is likely to be ruined in your hands, Your Excellency the Bishop."

1

His plain words carried a chilling undertone.

Tyrion instinctively took a step back, feeling Muller's aura as heavy as a mountain, suffocating him.

But now he held power and was no longer the bishop who had been manipulated by others. He immediately retorted firmly, "Müller-Tatter, have you returned for your grand-nephew Rothschild?"

"His guilt is irrefutable, the chain of evidence is complete, and he has already confessed!"

"What else do you have to say in your argument?"

"Confess?" Mueller slightly raised his eyelids, his tone indifferent.

"Lord Tyrion Segerst, the laws of the Church Union clearly stipulate that clergy of the fifth rank and above must be formally tried in the London Court of Justice before they can be convicted."

"Do you think you can sentence Rothschild to death by holding a public trial?"

"I already informed the London judges of my presence!" Tyrion retorted sharply.

"They'll be there soon!"

"Is that so?" Muller didn't bother to argue and turned away indifferently.

A middle-aged man dressed in black walked in behind him, with a double cross tattooed on his chest and a cold, solemn look in his eyes.

The moment Tyrion saw this man, his expression changed drastically. This man was Geralt, the famous judge of London!

This wasn't the judge he had previously informed; why was he here?

"Inquisitor Graves has recently traveled to Portsmouth," Geralt said curtly.

"Therefore, the task of Newcastle is entrusted to me."

Tyrion grew increasingly uneasy. The principle of the Inquisition was that each case should be heard by only one judge, which was why he had previously tried to get Judge Graves, who was on good terms with him, to handle the case, hoping to make it an ironclad one.

But we agreed on it yesterday, so why did we suddenly change people today?

Most importantly, Graves was replaced without Graves receiving any news, which suggests that some behind-the-scenes deals took place in London that excluded him.

This Geralt is clearly one of Tuttle's men!

Geralt nodded slightly in acknowledgment, then turned to Muller and reported in a deep voice, "Lord Tuttle, I have investigated. All the accusations against Rothschild Tuttle are pure slander."

"This is a deliberate conspiracy between individuals and the United Front to fabricate charges."

"Rothschild Tuttle," "Innocent."

Upon hearing this, Tyrion's face turned ashen, and he almost felt dizzy.

"Geralt! What nonsense are you spouting!"

"With such irrefutable evidence right before our eyes, how could it be a slander?"

"Irrefutable evidence? I've never seen it." Geralt's tone was icy.

"All I found was that you used illegal methods of torture and forced confessions to coerce Rothschild into pleading guilty."

"Moreover, the court does not need to explain the cases to the bishop."

Tyrion wanted to argue, but that was the authority of the Inquisition, and that was what made the clergy fear them—a single word from the Inquisitor could decide a person's life or death.

Geralt turned to look at the door and called out in a deep voice, "Am I right?"

"Mr. Rothschild?"

At that moment, a figure walked in, turning one corner. It was Rothschild Tuttle, who had been publicly tried in the square the day before.

At this moment, his dejection vanished, replaced by intense resentment and hatred in his eyes.

"Yes, I am innocent."

"The Adriatic family colluded with the United Front and even heretical cults to deliberately slander me. They even used torture to force a confession out of me!"

"How could you let him out!" Tyrion exclaimed in horror. "The Crusaders!"

"guard!!"

He called out to the guards, but no one outside responded.

"Your Excellency Segerst, I must remind you. This is Newcastle," Rothschild said with a warning tone.

"Your previous self-righteous control and management was nothing but an illusion."

"In this city, no one has ever truly been able to rule without the Tuttle family."

"The surname of Newcastle will always be Tuttle!" Rothschild's lips curled into a sinister smile, his eyes filled with vengeful pleasure.

Tyrion knew all too well that the Crusaders who had just pledged their loyalty to him had now all rebelled.

No, it's very likely that all the previous displays of loyalty were just to lull him into a false sense of security.

"I can give you a chance," Muller said calmly, his tone carrying an undeniable air of authority.

"You can still hold the position of Bishop of Newcastle."

"I may choose not to submit the evidence of your collusion with the United Front to the court."

"The premise is that you publicly admit that you have been deceived."

"A secret United Front force is lurking in Newcastle, deliberately using the name of the Adrià family to slander and suppress the Tuttle family."

"Dream on!" Tyrion roared, his proud demeanor refusing to yield.

"I will always follow the Lord's teachings!"

"And, Mueller Tuttle, I am the Bishop of Newcastle!"

"It wasn't you!"

Muller's grey eyes instantly turned icy cold. "In that case, Lord Segerst, you will regret this."

With a whoosh, dozens of fully armed Crusaders rushed into the office, wielding sharp blades and with cold expressions, surrounding Tyrion in the center.

"You dare rebel!" Tyrion roared. "Get out!"

But no one listened to him.

"It is not a rebellion, Your Excellency," Muller replied calmly.

"We are simply correcting your wrongdoings and making you realize who the true masters of this city are."

"Besides, you're the one who should be rebelling."

Tyrion gritted his teeth and gathered his strength, and pure white holy flames suddenly rose around him. These were the Holy Cross Flames, exclusive to the Holy Order, which had a strong restraining effect on evil forces.

At the same time, the gray in Muller's eyes suddenly turned into a deep blue.

An immense, overwhelming pressure crashed down, pressing down on Tyrion.

"Ah!" Tyrion groaned, his body went limp, and he knelt on the ground. The holy flames around him were instantly crushed into weak flames and could no longer rise.

I didn't mean to embarrass you like this.

Muller looked down at the old pocket watch in his hand.

"I personally experienced the Crimean Hell War, saw real demons, and personally slew high-ranking demons."

"The cruelty of such a mountain of corpses and sea of ​​blood is something that someone like you, who has long held an office job and has never been on the battlefield, cannot imagine."

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