The western part of the city, far from the coastline, is a little quieter and calmer at night than the busy eastern coastal city.

In the heart of Xicheng District, five magnificent Gothic spires surrounded by lights pierce the night sky like the hand of God, and the stone statue of the Virgin Mary on the spire clasps her hands together on her chest, looking down on the passing beings with a kind face.

St. John's Cathedral, designed by the great architect of the empire centuries ago, is a building full of symbolic significance. The three facades of the church are carved with scenes of the birth, glory and death of God, and the rows of stone sculptures decorate it into a stone scripture. However, now it has a new name, the Holy Church, because it is now the general meeting of the Holy Church, the largest religious organization in the Empire.

Although it was nightfall, there were still many devout believers holding Bibles in front of the three doors of the church, which were covered with colored porcelain tiles, and outside the door, the monks in blue robes were holding wooden crosses to pray sincerely for the believers who came to atone for their sins.

The citizens and vehicles passing by were silent, for fear of disturbing the gods sleeping in the sarcophagus of the church.

At this time, the church square was almost full of vehicles of believers asking for almsgiving.

On the top floor of the spire building on the far right side of the church, dense soundproof stone slabs separate the whispers of the reciters at the bottom, so that there is almost silence except for the sound of carrier pigeons flapping their wings outside the window.

In the small empty church, a Persian carpet embroidered with gold velvet edges stretches from the entrance to the black throne of the angels at the end, the aisle is flanked by two rows of lacquered gold lampstands, white candles dance with bean-yellow flames, ukiyo-e domes seem to come to life in red and yellow candles, and the benches under the dome are empty, except for the stained glass windows filled with damp sea breeze.

An old man in a black robe with a simple silver crown on the throne was communicating something with a white-robed figure under the throne, who fell on one knee under the throne, and the light from all sides drowned out his shadow.

"Clindor, have you found anything from this preaching?" the old man rubbed the turquoise on the top of his cane, and his voice was a little weak.

"Archbishop Yarman, the sermon went smoothly along the way, but the almost extinct 'ghoul' was found in the town of Il, which is close to the Green Valley Line. The white-robed bishop Klindo bowed his head and looked serious. In the hierarchical Church, white bishops are not allowed to look directly at the black archbishop and the pope when they report on the situation.

"'Ghouls', ugly and filthy odd creatures. Archbishop Yarman coughed lightly, and seemed to hear the rustle of air scraping through the trachea, "I haven't heard of them for many years, I have almost forgotten their disgusting appearance, it seems that the 'policy of massacre' of the previous pope was not thorough enough." ”

"Archbishop Yarman, it seems that the ghouls encountered this time are not the part that escaped under the 'policy of slaughter'. Clindo continued, "According to Master Max and my investigation, this ghoul incident was caused by the mutation of the dead in some of the cemeteries of the Loland Cemetery, mainly the cemetery of the Loland Cemetery near the direction of the Holy Church of Il. It all looks weird, it seems like ...... It's like ......"

"It's like being deliberately summoned by some unknown force, right? Yarman interrupted a hesitant Clindo.

"Yes, Master Max thinks so too. We investigated the coffins and burial mounds at Lorain Cemetery, and every indication was that on a full moon night the corpses broke through the ground and attacked humanity as if they had been inspired by something. The night breeze was slightly cool, and Klindo shuddered unconsciously as he spoke, "Moreover, the Holy Church branch in Iltown has been the most severely attacked. While the church members were asleep in the middle of the night, the ghouls infiltrated the church and killed two red-robed priests and a dozen blue-robed friars. Their hearts were stolen and hung on a cross inside the church. ”

"Revenge, cruelty, blood. The cross on Yarman's silver crown reflected a cold glow, "The humble reptile seems to be in a hurry to receive God's 'grace,' but such a meticulous and swift assassination operation is not like the work of a group of brainless walking corpses." ”

"Young Master Max found nothing else at the scene of the crime. The few remaining ghouls have also been disposed of, leaving no trace. Klindo looked at the dark shadow on the dark red carpet and felt a little depressed, "The work afterwards was handed over by the branch church to the local garrison and the government, although there is no reaction from the royal family now, but the results of the local government's investigation will be handed over to the imperial palace sooner or later." ”

After Clindo finished speaking, there was a brief silence in the space where the candle shadow flickered. Archbishop Yarman, on the throne of angels, slowly stood up, his turquoise cane arm a little strained, his body thin and rickety under the black robe.

"On the royal side, if there are any objections, I will deal with them. Yarman stared at Klindo on his knees, his eyes like a poisoned blade, cold and cold, "It's just that the Pope doesn't want to hear this bad news." ”

The words without any emotional fluctuations instantly hit Klindo, who was kneeling on the ground, and his whole body trembled, and a layer of cold sweat broke out on his back.

From the words of Archbishop Yarman, he heard threats and orders, and threats were greater than orders.

No one would be stupid enough to risk their lives, and even as a clergyman, Clindo was not so stupid as to believe that "when we die, God will reap" and then shout "hallelujah". For Clindo, who is a white-robed bishop, being alive is 10,000 times more important than "seeing God."

"Honorable Black-robed Archbishop Yarman, I, White-robed Bishop Clindo, swear in the name of God that there were no accidents in this and Young Master Max's preaching, and everything went well. Although his voice was already a little trembling with fear, Clindo had been a white bishop for many years and had handled things tactfully. At this time, he didn't forget to mention Max, as if he was telling Yarman, for the sake of this little life, I will definitely not say it anyway, as for Master Max, I can't care about it.

"I was about to ask you, why didn't Max come back to the Holy Church with you?" asked Yarman.

"Master Max has ordered me to report to you, and he says he doesn't have time to waste time. Young Master, after he returned to the imperial capital, he went to the academy alone. Klindo wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"Max Garcia. Yarman's voice was heavy, as if he was gritting his teeth and speaking to himself, "Even if the Pope values you, it is impossible to protect you all the time, and it is not so smooth to become the successor of the Pope." The Holy Church can make a man, and naturally it can destroy a man, and if I could, I wouldn't mind creating another García Max. In the second half of the sentence, his voice became sharper and sharper, and his eyes were cloudy.

"Clindo!"

"In, Archbishop Yarman. Feeling the killing intent unleashed by the scrawny-looking old man, Klindo struggled to resist the urge to collapse to the ground.

"I want you to do something," Yarman ordered, "from this day on, as long as Max is in Xinlan, monitor his every move." As for the Garcia family behind him, I haven't paid attention to it yet. ”

"Yes. Klindo didn't hesitate.

A few seconds of silence felt like centuries had passed. Klindo knelt on the ground like a prisoner on a torture rack awaiting execution, in the process of waiting for the decapitator hanging above his head to fall.

"Go ahead. Yarman's voice slowed again, and he sat down heavily on the throne of the angels, his figure lonely, like an old man on the verge of death.

Having worked with Yarman for many years, Clindo knew all too well the ruthlessness of this unusually frail old man. After hearing Yarman's previous tone, he knew that he had finally been forgiven after wandering around in front of the ghost gate.

Clindo stood up with his limp body on his hands, and with a soft answer, he walked briskly towards the door of the church, where the bright world beckoned to him. Clindo's legs were still shaking, and he didn't dare to stop, because he knew that if he stopped, he would fall hard.

Almost as Clindo was about to step out of the main entrance of the church, the two carved iron doors that had been open suddenly closed violently, separating the strange world outside the door.

"Clindo, have you forgotten what else you haven't told me?" Yarman's voice rang in Clindo's ears.

Clindo is like a marionette, held by a large invisible hand, unable to move. The next moment, he turned mechanically towards Yarman, who was sitting on the throne of angels, his lips trembling, tears of horror crawling like spider webs all over his pale face.

Yarman was like a critter in a cage, but he couldn't see the expression on his face because he was hidden in the darkness.

"Lord Yarman, I say, I say. Clindo almost screamed, his mental defenses on the verge of crumbling, "I met a man! Yes, a teenager, he was carrying something! Yes, it was an armband on the boy's arm! The armband seemed to have the ancient words of the "Divine Record" on it!"

"That's all I know, Mistress Yarman, let me go!" Then Clindo fell to his knees with a "plop" and pleaded bitterly, "My mother is dead in her heart, and I can't save her! I just want to use this news to go to the black market for some money to save her life! Lord Yarman, for the sake of me before I tell the black market, let me go, please, please! I'm dead, and my mother won't survive!" Thinking of the old woman on the hospital bed, who was almost already a corpse, Clindo's cold tears warmed a little.

Out of fear of death, Klindo's gaze was already a little dazed, how he hoped that the gods he believed in could save him at this time, even if there was a dog hole, he was willing to get out, as long as he lived, there was still hope.

"Are you sure it's the text on the Divine Record? It's a lost text from the previous pope?"

"Yes, it's true! That man's name is El! Yes, Al, he seems to have come to the Imperial Capital too!"

"The imperial capital? I really don't know if it's good news or bad news?"

Yarman muttered for a long time, and only the sound of him pacing back and forth could be heard from the high platform.

Suddenly, the footsteps stopped abruptly, and a silver light broke through the air, and a string of blood flowers around the church returned to the direction of the Angelic Throne, which was an ornament of a cross on the wall, carved with the cross of the Crucifixion, which was now wearing a piece of bloody flesh, silently suspended beside Yarman.

At the iron door of the church, blood stained the white robe in front of Klindo red, and also stained the golden cross motif. Clindo covered his face in pain, and he wanted to wail, but only to find that all that was left was a random snort.

Just now, the metal cross pierced his cheek, severed his tongue, and shattered bloody teeth could even be seen on the ground in front of his knees.

"The story of the mother's love and filial piety saved you, Clindo, and I forgive your greed on behalf of God. Yarman's voice came slowly, "But why bother? Your mother is dead a long time ago, why don't you want to admit it?"

Yarman's words seemed to touch Clindo's sensitive nerves, and his eyes were wide and bloodshot, and tears mixed with blood flowed down his face.