"Master General, please pay attention to the steps."
Walking straight along the passage behind the Lord's Prayer Hall, there is an inconspicuous confessional. In the middle is a statue of the incarnation of the Lord that can be seen everywhere in West Asia. The man who symbolizes the image of the Lord is holding the Holy Grail high, surrounded by his followers extending their arms. The hand that longs for redemption.
The young man called "Diligent" led the way with a candlestick in his hand, and Gascón followed behind him, looking like an emperor.
"Zhu Sape, what's the reaction from Simeng?"
Gascón spoke abruptly, but the young man named Jusape did not turn around, and stated in a calm tone: "According to the observations of the instructors and scouts, the Simeng people have not assembled a large army. Most of the people sent to the mountains now are cannon fodder." Just a militia."
"Yeah……"
Gascón nodded, this was the result he could expect.
But time is not on the side of West Asia. Although the unified statement in the country can be that traitors in West Asia assassinated or kidnapped the Grand Duke, the core senior officials are very clear that Tilda is not really dead yet.
For West Asia, this is a major strategic failure.
But things have happened. It is impossible and unrealistic to launch a full-scale war against Simeng regardless of the consequences. Besides, the church has more important things to do right now.
"When the remnants of the Grand Duke's residence are cleared out, the life and death of the saint will no longer matter."
As Giuseppe spoke, he raised his hand and gently groped around the statue of the incarnation of the Lord of God. After touching somewhere on the base, he tapped lightly, and there was a snapping sound.
The heavy stone statue turned slowly, and with the sound of huge stones rubbing against each other like a millstone, a deep entrance suddenly appeared in front of Giuseppe and Gascón.
"Master General, please."
Giuseppe stood at attention, lowered his head, and raised his hand to make way for a passage.
Gascón smiled and slowly walked into the entrance of this deep underground palace.
red.
The walls shone with scarlet light, and the air exuded a sweet smell. A huge high-backed chair sat in the center of the underground secret room. On the seat padded with dark red velvet, sat a A skinny old figure.
It almost looked like a dead person. If he hadn't been muttering something angrily, everyone would have thought that this scrawny old man had been dead for a long time.
The age spots on his face looked as terrifying as corpse spots against the edema and lack of muscle in his face.
Gascón walked up to the high-backed chair and bowed his head respectfully:
"His Majesty the Pope, are you okay?"
no answer.
Pope Bailvis, the titular highest religious leader of the Catholic Church.
To the people, His Majesty the Pope has been ill for too long, and his health has long been part of people's daily prayers.
But at this moment, the religious king who was supposed to stomp his feet and shake the world was just sitting on the tall papal chair without any reaction.
"Bishop Gascón reports to you that after a fair vote by nine bishops, I was elected by my colleagues as the Grand Master of the Knights of the Established Church out of trust. Please allow me to look forward to your blessing without permission."
Gascón said to himself without any disapproval, stepped forward and grabbed the Pope's thin and weak wrist, slapped it on his shoulder, with a smile on his face: "Ah, thank you, thank you for your blessing and trust, Pope His Majesty."
The Pope's hands slipped from Gascón's shoulders as weakly as dead squid tentacles, and his old throat murmured half-deadly:
"Hannah... Han... Na..."
"Hannah?"
Gascón lowered his head: "Oh, please don't be sad. Our beloved chaste knight, Sister Hannah, unfortunately died in the hands of our enemies."
After he said these words, the corpse-like Pope finally had some reaction. He slowly and laboriously raised his head like an old machine. His pupils, which were already turbid and like cotton wool, were confused and confused. He looked at Gascón in front of him:
"O...Du...?"
"Odu?"
Gascón revealed a ferocious sneer: "Your Temperance Knight Odu was captured miserably. Even if he is not dead now, he may not have much time left."
As if it took him a while to understand what Gascón said, Pope Bavivis stared at the floor motionless, an unpleasant and hoarse sound painfully squeezed out of his throat like a cry.
"Tilda...save them...Tilda..."
"Tilda?!"
Gascon showed an exaggerated expression of pain: "Our saint is either dead or about to surrender to the enemy. No one will be saved. Do you understand? My Majesty!"
His movements became a little crazy. He grabbed the smelly and dirty cassock wrapped around Pope Bailvis, and shouted with excitement and paranoia: "No more! There is nothing in the church! We can only ourselves." Save yourself, do you understand?!"
Obviously, the current Pope Bailvis can no longer understand such statements.
He was like a demented old man, with great pain and confusion on his face. Finally, he timidly retreated into the depths of the Pope's chair and returned to his original appearance. As if in mourning, he repeatedly murmured the words of Hannah and Odu. name.
"Tsk."
Gascón curled his lips in disdain, stood up straight, raised his right leg, and kicked the tall papal chair in front of him.
With a bang, the Pope's chair turned. It turned out that the bottom of this tall seat was connected to a huge rotating stone plate. Gascón kicked it, and the heavy plate rotated, exposing the back of the Pope's chair.
It was the chairs sitting back to back on the other side.
It is exactly the same as the Pope's chair, sharing the tall chair back in the middle.
The difference is that there is a little boy sitting on this chair.
Pota.
His abdominal cavity has been cut open from the middle. The muscles and blood vessels are like tangled tree roots, wrapped around some metal object and fixed in the wound in his abdominal cavity. The entire seat is filled with blood oozing from his abdominal cavity. .
The excessive blood loss made Bota's face extremely pale. Let alone a child, this amount of blood loss was enough to kill even an adult two or three times.
What was entangled and held together by flesh and blood in his abdomen was the Holy Grail that Gascon once held in his hand.
"Didn't you say you were ready?"
Gascón frowned and his expression became much uglier. He turned and looked at the "diligent" Giuseppe behind him, his tone clearly reproachful.
"Already prepared."
Giuseppe answered meticulously. Before Gascón could ask any more questions, he took a few steps forward and walked to a cage deep in the room. He raised his leg and kicked open the top of the iron cage, and reached out to fish out a piece. A thick iron chain for the wrist comes:
"This carrier needs a little help, please ask."
The chain was handed to Gascón's hand. At the other end, a naked woman with a metal collar around her neck was lifted out of the iron cage and placed on the ground by Giuseppe. She kicked her butt violently and let out a painful sound. whimpering.
Hearing this voice, Bota, who had been "dead" on the chair, actually opened his eyes.
"Mother……"
Gascon's eyes lit up and he grinned: "Ah, the belief in wanting to save my mother! So you are the carrier?"
He changed the chain from his right hand to his left hand, gently rubbed Bota's hair, grabbed his weak palm, lowered his head and kissed the back of his hand gently:
"It's touching, new Lord Holy Son. I promise you that as long as you persist in your belief in saving your mother, our Lord will eventually come to you."
"Soon, soon."
Memorize 114 Chinese words in 1 second:
