It was obviously an illusory scene and did not belong to his memory. However, Chen Yi could clearly hear their singing at this moment, so real.
Chen Yi watched Christopher press his forehead against the stone door, with some blood spilling out.
Then there was a "click" and the heavy stone door slowly opened.
Christopher wiped the blood from his forehead and walked into the darkroom.
Chen Yi couldn't see the scene, as if something had blocked Christopher's memory in the dark room.
When the priest walked out, he was holding an exquisite silver bottle containing blood in his hands.
The Precious Blood of St. Venakana.
The blood started boiling after leaving the dark room.
The priest pressed the silver bottle, but still couldn't stop traces of blood from spilling out.
From the mouth of the bottle, silver drops of blood fell to the ground.
Chen Yi saw the drop of blood rapidly losing its luster and turning pale, as if it was oxidized and lost its color.
Amidst the continuous singing, blood drops slowly floated to the backyard.
Chen Yi ran out chasing the drop of blood.
Rows of cemeteries, deathly silent under the rain.
The drop of blood passed over the stone tablets without stopping, as if it was sifting.
Finally, Chen Yi saw it, hovering quietly on a gray stone tombstone in the seventh row.
Hedwig Pune, our poor and sweet angel, will always be.
The inscription on the monument reads this.
Chen Yi watched helplessly as the blood submerged into the soil, and then there was no movement.
The memory scene ends abruptly after this.
In occult terms, this means that the answer to the psychic ritual is right before our eyes.
Chen Yi fell into shock and confusion.
Hedwig...what happened?
My Thousand Pillars of Clouds...is this how it came about?
Chen Yi reached out his hand in disbelief and tried to advance the psychic ritual again.
Just like this...only like this?
However, the memory scene has begun to slowly fade.
The scene faded inch by inch, as if it had disappeared into the air. Chen Yi turned around and walked back into the cathedral.
He was still stunned.
Unknowingly, Chen Yi walked to the stone door of the darkroom.
Raising her head, Chen Yi Muran saw it.
On the stone door, there is a circle of truth engraved, and on the circle, it is his name carved on the sea of thousand pillars of clouds, glowing with golden light.
Chen Yi's pupils shrank and he couldn't help but touch the ring lightly.
It seems that the name he carved on the sea of thousand pillars of clouds brought abnormal changes to this ceremony.
Then, the scene that was gradually fading became stuck, and after half a second, new colors filled it in again.
The scene changes rapidly.
It's like filling a stained window with pieces of Maxe glass.
Chen Yi saw time flowing down the river, and every minute and every second led from the past to the present.
The channeling ceremony is obviously to relive memories, but now it presents the current scene.
The holy land of the two religions once again fell into his eyes. In the center of the city of Baiyin Cana, a tall burning pillar stood, with dry wood piled at the bottom of the pillar.
Crowds of people, true believers and pagans, rich and poor, old and weak, spread from the stake to the seven steps of the Holy Silver Cathedral.
Christopher clasped his hands together in front of the statues of saints, in the light of thousands of candles.
He lowered his head and prayed quietly.
Behind him were the prisoners who had followed him to various places. They all gathered around, clutching the icon and staring at the priest's back.
At the end of the prayer, Christopher raised the Eucharist high and slowly placed it in front of the icon.
Turning around, he heard the prisoners' eyes sore and sobbing.
His disciple, monk Aarons, stepped forward and said in a trembling voice: "Father...it doesn't have to be like this, you don't have to die."
Christopher stroked the monk's head lovingly and said nothing.
"You made no mistake, you are not guilty, you should not have signed the confession." The monk murmured in front of his godfather.
The priest stared at him.
"'You should stick to the truth, and this is how you can enter the Kingdom of Heaven,' isn't it? This is what the scriptures say, and it's what you said, too, isn't it?" The monk sobbed, and tears fell to the ground.
"Yes, yes, you are right," the priest finally said.
"Why, why, Father, you are betraying the truth...You are..." The monk could not accept the priest's choice and couldn't help asking.
Christopher’s voice was gentle: “But in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us.”
The monk was stunned and speechless.
"Milu Aarons, I call you by your name," the priest removed his hand from stroking his head, "I leave this place to you."
The priest started slowly and said goodbye to them as he walked. Anne, Alina, his godson with the same name, Aarons... they cried and murmured words of condolence.
The priest stood outside the gate and then slowly walked down the seven steps.
When people saw the hemp monk's robe appearing there, they turned around and stared at the priest.
Christopher walked down the aisle that separated the crowd.
"Burn him, burn him!"
"Burn this filthy true believer to death!"
"Behold, my King, we shall punish this monster for blaspheming you!"
I don't know who took the lead, and a roar broke out among the pagans. They hated and cursed Christopher because of his blasphemous behavior and because he had defiled the souls of their compatriots.
The true believers were wailing, and many closed their eyes, not wanting to see their priest suffer such a disaster.
Christopher looked calm and walked toward the burning platform without saying a word.
Among the angry pagans, the chief priest of Qinghong Lecture Hall lowered his face, clasped his hands together, and just glanced at Christopher gently with unspeakable guilt.
In front of the officiant, Christopher stopped.
Insults were boiling instantly, and even more disgusting words were poured out wantonly.
The officiant closed his eyes and pursed his lips tightly, for he had sentenced him to be burned at the stake, and he was waiting for the priest's hatred.
"Mr. officiant, you know, some things are often more important than life."
The priest gently brushed the officiant's shoulder.
"So I forgive you."
The officiant opened his eyes, his face full of astonishment, and his gaze stopped for a long time.
The priest continued to walk forward.
"Christopher." The officiant opened his mouth, "You are a real priest."
Christopher smiled.
"Halder, you broke into the church, but I forgive you." He walked up to a young soldier and said warmly.
"Fasher, it was you who kept us homeless and suffering, but I forgive you." The familiar-looking guard looked surprised.
"Fuda, your name means 'atonement'. You have insulted me, but I forgive you."
"Ghazi, you tied my hands, but I forgive you."
...........
The curses, exclamations, and roars were layered one after another, amidst the heavy hatred.
Christopher forgave everyone as he walked.
Until he walked to the stake.
He kissed the icon one last time, relaxed it, and set it aside.
One of the pagans took the twine and roughly tied his arms behind his back to the stake.
"It was you who wanted to burn me," Christopher murmured. "I forgive you."
"Why forgive me," sneered the infidel, "father of the dull, for your last hypocrisy?"
"No," Christopher stared at him for a long time, "because forgiveness is salvation."
The pagan soldier was startled, gritted his teeth, and moved his hands faster.
"This abominable true believer! Burn him to death!"
"Burn him and send him to hell!"
"This priest is a blasphemous devil!"
In the dirt square where the burning platform stood, there was a surge of people at the feet, drowned in the excitement of executing the priest, and the voices were shrill and noisy.
Christopher closed his eyes, and all he could hear were curses and curses.
The pagan soldiers raised their torches to the crowd as a signal, and then slowly threw the torches into the dry wood.
The sound of crackling flames ignited, and the crowd burst out with exclamations, anger, or lamentations.
“Lord, are you with us?”
Christopher sang softly and hoarsely, recalling the night when the relics were handed over.
“Can you hear the singing?
That is the human world,
All the suffering people stood up and sang. "
The flames grew stronger and stronger, and the burning pain spread to his skin. Christopher gritted his teeth.
The flames under his feet spread along the whale oil of the stake. Soon, Christopher saw only the light of fire. His whole body was burning, and the burning pain stimulated every inch of his skin and penetrated deep into his bones.
In a daze, Christopher saw the prisoners standing in the Holy Silver Cathedral between the flames.
The children who were baptized by him twenty years ago have all grown up.
May the children who have been baptized by me in the past few years grow up safely.
Christopher smiled peacefully.
He gradually got used to the burning pain and gradually became numb.
"Lord, why is the night so long?
Far away and difficult,
Where is our angel's hometown?
There are rolling green mountains.
There are beautiful girls there.
When will I return home victorious?
Return to mother. "
Singing, the pagans heard singing.
Who is getting up and singing?
Among the true believers who were sobbing, no one knew who heard the priest's voice. They gathered around and sang "Where is the Lord" together.
“Lord, are you with us?
Can you hear the singing?
That is the human world,
All the suffering people stood up and sang. "
Somehow the songs of the true believers overcame the hatred of the infidels, overpowering the anger and disgust.
Chen Yi, walking between them.
He ascended slowly to the stake.
"I heard it," Chen Yi murmured, "I heard it."
The blood of suffering.
Goodness in the world.
All beliefs.
Until every inch of hot land is covered with dawn.
Christopher gradually lost his senses in the fire. He saw tongues of fire penetrate his eyes and felt his muscles being burned to ashes by the flames. Before he lost the last bit of hearing, he heard everyone singing.
Inexplicably, in his blur of consciousness, he felt a touch of warmth instead of burning.
He could sense who was standing in front of him.
Christopher tried his best to lift his head slightly, but his neck didn't have much strength left, and he opened his blind eyes.
“Lord...please make a covenant with me.
Forgive them. "
"Why?" He asked.
In the fire, smoke filled the air.
Christopher is dying:
"Because you are here."
so,
Salvation is here.
A long, long time.
The priest felt that a long, long time had passed, but he also felt that it might only be a moment.
"I make a pact with you, Christopher."
Nora Rich.
save.
Forgiveness is salvation.
This is his covenant with God.
Christopher fulfilled his last wish, closed his eyes gently, and smiled peacefully.
In the Holy Silver Cathedral, Aarons, who couldn't bear to see the priest martyred in person, stayed in front of the icon and knelt down to pray.
“But in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us.”
Suddenly, the priest's words echoed in my mind.
He raised his head suddenly and lost consciousness for a moment.
In front of the statues of saints, he saw candlelight so bright for the first time, and he had a premonition that he would never see it again.
Because that day, God witnessed what faith looks like.
