In the long years, the last years of the fifteenth century were marked by a fluctuation that had not occurred before a thousand years of silence.

This fluctuation began with a group of artists who admired nature and pursued inspiration, and then gradually spread to all the fields that could arise at this time.

Whether it is art, religion, philosophy, or even the science that has just begun to flourish, and does not even have its own name in the field of science, it has been affected by this fluctuation in a deeper or lower way.

Because of this, there are more people who are affected by this fluctuation.

After thousands of years of dark oppression, when this light with art as the forerunner shines into the dark room, people are surprised to find that the life that looks gray and jerky is actually colorful and intoxicating.

Whether you really understand it or not, more and more people have begun to unconsciously follow the trajectory of this glimmer of light, people's clothes have become brighter, food has begun to be abundant, and the house is a product has gradually gotten rid of the boring and single appearance and seems to be more comfortable and even beautiful, and it seems that everything has become so inexplicably interesting.

Whether monks, aristocrats, or even commoners, people are no longer content to seek guidance in life from only bitter and difficult doctrines, as if nature and every little thing in life are beginning to reveal infinite charms.

Among them, the aristocracy and the Church, with their great wealth and power, seem to be the most active in this pursuit of beauty, whether it is Genoa and Venice, which are sworn enemies of each other, Milan and Bologna, where the family is in the ascendant, or even Rome, which is regarded by the world as the residence of the Pope, the highest agent of God in the world, and in the north of the Mediterranean, a wave that has never been seen before is stirring up waves of turmoil.

But the most unique of all these places is called Florence.

It is impossible to talk about Florence without mentioning the Medici family.

Although many people have one or another opinion of the Medici family as the rulers of Florence, or simply criticize it, the Medici family is undoubtedly the most positive in this wave that seems to inspire people's lives.

The Medici family spared no effort to make this wave even more intense by building schools, sponsoring artists, and investing large sums of money in the construction of lavish palaces and artistic treasures that have been handed down to future generations.

Although some say that they did this completely subservient and elegant, or simply described their interest in art and large grants as nouveau riche in order to show dignity and buy people's hearts, as the rulers of Florence, the Medici family was recognized by the people for a long time, and the family's rule was relatively stable.

This stability was broken until the arrival of King Charles VIII of France.

In the face of a besieging enemy, the heirs of the Medici family did not choose to fight fearlessly, but timidly surrendered to the French.

But the Florentines were proud, they were unwilling to accept the rule of the French, and they hated and hated the Medici who betrayed Florence at the last moment.

And so an inevitable riot broke out without warning.

The gates were closed, fences were erected, and bows and arrows were raised at the head of the Medici family, who had just surrendered outside the city and was about to enter the city.

The sudden riot frightened all the Medici, and after years of comfortable life, the people of this family, who were originally full of vitality, in addition to the increasing luxury, no longer had the courage to face the hardships and ups and downs, even the most ambitious young people who remained in the Medici Palace in the city only quickly closed the palace gate after hearing the news, and then took advantage of the chaos in the city to escape from the city with their families to join their masters.

In this way, the rule of the Medici was overthrown with the arrival of the French.

And the person who started this riot was called Savonarola.

If there is a man in the world who is so disgusted by the millennial turmoil that the Apennine Peninsula is stirring that it is impossible to find a man who is at odds with him, he is not a pope who is regarded by the world as upholding the old rules, nor is he a nobleman who covets comfort, but who is fascinated by the dazzling art and trapped in a life of luxury.

If you want to find such a person, it can only be Savonarola.

Even farther away than Naples, when Savonarola is mentioned, people treat him with a unique boo.

Forever dressed in the coarse black robes of the church, sleeping on a hard-boned wooden bed, drinking only water and eating coarse bread, and even the most extravagant with a little fish and meat, this is Savonarola, a Florentine ruler who regarded poverty as the true meaning of life.

The hatred of luxury, the denunciation of decay, the admiration of almost harsh poverty and misery, and the desperation of all pleasures as the root of the depravity of the world, is Savonarola.

Disgusted by the depravity of the Pope and the Church, disgusted by hedonism from the aristocracy to the plebeians, and hated for the complete eradication of all the art that seduces the mind into hell, this is Savonarola.

Many people loved and even admired the son of this small merchant from Ferrara, but many more hated him.

This is because Savonarola is tenacious and uncompromising.

In his eyes, there are only black and white, right and wrong, noble and despicable, sublimation and depravity, such an either/or choice, and there is no room for a third way.

He religiously followed the Dominican's almost harsh rules, honing himself and others in an ascetic way.

Because of this tenacity and perseverance, Savonarola gradually gained the support of the people, and when the Medici were driven out of Florence by the angry populace, Savonarola, who had great prestige, became the full ruler of Florence.

But even with the highest power, Savonarola still stuck to his original intention.

He refused to live in the beautiful Medici Palace, still living in the humble hut of St. Mark's Monastery, where the first thing he woke up in the early hours of the morning was to pray, and the last thing he did before going to bed was to pray, for food and water were only things to keep him alive, and art was dirty and disgusting!

He ordered the closure of the art school that had been established under the auspices of the Medici family, burned a large number of art paintings that were considered decadent and even lascivious, and to the cheers of the people, he personally brandished a hammer and smashed the heads of precious sculptures left by such masters as Pang Luo, He Moqiu, and Jascho.

There are no more depraved sounds, and there are no more gluttonous feasts that only satisfy people's appetites.

The colourful feathers that adorned women's hats were gone, the men's exaggerated shoulder linings were gone, and the lace linings, which were useless and only extravagant, were gone.

In order to prevent such a corrosive thing as extravagance, he sent people to walk the streets and write down the names of women who openly wore ornate furs and jewelry, and then make their families pay a luxury tax, and impose heavy fines on men who violated the rules of wine and wine or flowers.

Under the guidance of Savonarola, solemn and sacred chants and simple garments without any ornamentation replaced the opulence and extravagance, and the sacrament prayer filled with the holy atmosphere replaced the vulgar feasts that led to depravity.

As for people, Savonarola is a firm adherent to the theory of original sin and sexual evil.

He used his sermons to persuade the world and enlighten all, he encouraged the servants who confessed to him to expose the wrongs of their masters, and inspired the neighbors to stand up and accuse their friends of transgression, which, in Savonarola's view, was the only way to build a world of pure God for all.

In this way, from two years ago, Savonarola began his reign over Florence, and at the same time took Florence, once the most passionate city of its time, on a completely different path.

Such a savonarola is a figure who has made the whole era jaw-dropping, but this is not the real reason why people look at him.

What made the city-states see him as an outlier was his attitude towards the French.

When faced with a huge threat from France, even some of the countries that have always been wronged decided to unite against the greed of Charles VIII, Savonarola extended an olive branch to Charles.

He praised Charles's wisdom as a wise monarch and the French's feat as the savior of the people of the peninsula, and even openly said to the people during a sermon that "it is the pride of the Florentines to form an alliance with France, to recognize France as our brotherly country, to regard the brave and generous king as our loving father, and to burn and destroy this decadent era together with France."

It is a great irony that the Medici family was ousted by the angry Florentines because they surrendered to the French without a backbone, but the man who led the people to revolt to overthrow them was a man who regarded France as a brother and a father.

And Savonarola not only said it, but also did it, not only did he send messengers to contact Charles, but he even provided the French with a large amount of various funds, in his opinion the hand of God sent by God to punish these fallen tyrants, the messengers of God beyond the world.

This put him on the opposite side of everyone at once, especially after the Battle of Foodino, which led to the crushing defeat of Charles VIII, and Savonarola's life began to be not so easy.

Savonarola wore the same trousers as King Charles of France, as everyone knows, and Modillo, Count of Naples, also had an ambiguous relationship with the French during the fall of Naples, when a messenger from Florence suddenly appeared, which made the atmosphere at the banquet suddenly strange.

"Come, tell me what you have brought me again," said Mordillo, still quietly to Alexander, who was standing behind the table, and then he explained to the Florentine messenger, "this is a Sicilian messenger from the other side of the lighthouse, and I think he has brought me something too." ”

Met the other's inquiring gaze, Alexander quickly turned his thoughts.

Alexander had already heard of Savonarola, and originally thought that it might be a long time before he would go to Florence, which had a special meaning for him, and it was unknown whether he would have the opportunity to intersect with this contradictory person by then, but he did not expect to meet the messenger he sent so soon.

However, Modillo asked him to stand up at this time, but Alexander felt that he was not at ease no matter what he thought.

Savonarola was thoroughly Francophilic, and Mordillo had a complicated relationship with the French, but with the victory of the coalition, the two men were in an awkward position.

"My lord, I have also brought friendship from Sicily," Alexander bowed to Modillo, "and with a request for your help, we hope that you will support us in the war with the French. ”

As soon as Alexander spoke, whispers came to his mind, and the eyes of everyone looking at the two messengers became amused.

These are two messengers who not only have different intentions, but even rival each other, and it is of course Modillo as the master who can make a decision at this time, but before the master can show his intentions, the battle between the messengers begins first.

The Florentine envoy looked at Alexander in surprise, he didn't know where this young man suddenly appeared from, but this person's purpose was obviously contrary to his own, and it could even be said that he was here to destroy the purpose of his trip.

"Emissary of Sicily? Was Ferdinand of Aragon sent? "The Florentines stared at Alexander with hostile eyes" emissaries from a country that claimed to be pious, but was in collusion with the rotten Roman throne? “

There was another murmur of the people, although Savonarola had reached an unbearable level of corruption and degeneration of the Holy See, and had accused, more than once, but it was only in Florence.

Now that his messenger had openly said such things in Naples, people could not help but be surprised and immediately excited and full of emotion.

It's never a big deal to watch the excitement, because a fight is about to take place, and people get excited.

Alexander walked around the table to the clearing, looked at the plainly dressed Florentine in front of him, and nodded.

"I am from Sicily," Alexander, "but I am not an envoy of the king, but I have come by order of the Council of Nobles." Still, I think I'm different from you, because you're sent by a usurper, a real tyrant. ”

When these words came out, the hall was in an uproar!

No matter what one thinks of Savonarola, he was the sole consul of Florence, and his reputation was not even insulted by the pope.

Even if he was blamed for his relationship with the French, he was still respected.

This is because even his enemies cannot but privately admit that Savonarola is a pious man.

But now, someone openly said that he was a usurper and a tyrant, which surprised everyone and made everyone even more excited.

The Florentine man showed anger, his hand touching the hilt of his sword, and the anger in his eyes almost burst out.

"Sicilian, you have to pay for your words, even if you are a messenger."

Alexander nodded, his hand aching, but he gripped the hilt of his sword.

With two duels in one day, is it really your lucky day?

Out of the corner of Alexander's eye, he glanced at Modillo, who seemed to be watching a good show, he was not sure whether Modillo would stop it at this time, but the pain in his hand made him know that if he really fought, he really didn't have any good fruit to eat.

Then he heard a voice that sounded like a chant to him: "It's not fair to let a wounded man duel!" ”

With this nightingale-like sound, a blonde girl hurried through the crowd and into the hall.

It's really my good sister, Alexander screamed with joy in his heart, and then he glanced at the count, who was always smiling, and scolded again: What the hell uncle, it's really not a thing.