Count Mordillo looked at the slightly pale moon above his head, and he held in his hand the envelope of a letter that had been many years old, the paper had become brittle and yellow, and looked as if it could be crushed if he exerted a little force.

The letter was delivered to Modillo one night many years ago, when he was still very young, but by that time he had great ambitions.

His ambition was Castile, and when he arrived in Castile as a diplomat in Naples, he was drawn to the country.

At that time, Castile was perhaps seen by others as a troubled and remote country, neither in terms of wealth, influence, nor the situation in Italy.

But Count Mordillo doesn't think so.

He was keenly aware of a real treasure in the country that was now lost in many other places, and which had once been the greatest weapon that had enabled Europe to almost conquer the East.

That's faith.

The disappointment of Europeans with the Vatican, or indeed with the extravagant and extravagant senior clergy, and the weakness and weakness of the Church in the early years of the Black Death, have greatly shaken people's trust in the Church for many years, and the depravity and decay of successive generations of popes have made people completely disappointed in the Vatican.

This distrust has become a wave that has spread in many parts of the continent, and it has become difficult to deal with the Church with reverence and worship, and has been replaced by all sorts of ridicule and even blatant ridicule and bitter criticism such as the Decameron

It seemed to have become such a fashion that when Modillo first arrived in Castile, he was completely captivated by the atmosphere of intense religious beliefs.

The people sincerely repented, sincerely sought relief and guidance, and the immense power unleashed by the union of the royal family and the church almost stunned Modillo.

It was at that time that Modillo had a bold idea of how high-spirited it would be if he could one day become a powerful minister of the country.

His eyes were set on Enrique, then King of Castile, and he intended to do so by making his sister George Anne Enrique's secret lover.

Enrique had only one legitimate daughter, which was enough for Mordillo to have enough expectations for the child that might be born to George Anne.

And George Anne did not disappoint him, and after months of fearful anticipation, a man quietly visited the residence of Mordillo, who was still a diplomat at the time, with a secret letter.

The letter was not very much, but a few words made Modillo almost lose his mind on the spot, and after nearly two days of torture, George Anne gave birth to a boy with difficulty.

Modillo was so happy that he almost forgot where he was, and if it hadn't been for the vigilance he had developed over the years, he might have really shouted long live in front of the messenger.

And the person who sent the letter was one of Enrique's cronies, a young man who was not tall but looked very shrewd.

He had a very common name, Juan, which was so many in the local area that few people would remember such an inconspicuous messenger.

But the Count of Mordillo was one of those few people.

He remembered the man's name and his appearance, because the man had been ordered to send him letters several times later, until Modillo received the news that it seemed that King Enrique was in a bad situation, and for the sake of the future, he asked this Juan to send a letter to the king, asking for permission to leave Castile with his sister and children.

Enrique himself was in a difficult situation at the time, and although Modillo's request sounded rude, Enrique finally agreed.

Modillo remembered very well that it was the short entourage who quietly sent George Anne and the child to his residence.

They then left Valladoliad, which was already facing the siege of Queen Isabella overnight, and then boarded a cargo ship bound for Naples.

Next, Modillo did something that surprised anyone who knew where the child came from, and he had the child quietly sent away on a night that no one knew about.

No one knew where the child had been sent, even George Anne, who was still young at the time and was still completely immersed in joy and happiness because of her first motherhood, pleaded, and the Count did not tell her anything about the child's whereabouts.

In fact, as he told George Anne, at first even he did not know where the child had been sent.

It was this unusual secrecy that allowed the child to survive peacefully, and then after many years, a young man with red hair and beautiful blue eyes suddenly appeared in front of Count Mordillo, saying that his name was Qiao Er, which was the name given to him by Count Mordiglo, which means "the origin of everything".

The Earl woke up from the memory, he pinched the yellowed letter in his hand and looked at the description on it carefully, looking at the words inside, the Count took a slight breath and put the letter on the wax table as if he had made up his mind, and watched the letter slowly ignite.

"He had black hair and black eyes, and he looked like an angel descending in the night......"

The handwriting on the letter disappeared as it was blackened and curled and then reduced to ashes, but its contents were deeply engraved in the Count's heart.

"Angels who come in the night," repeated Count Mordillo softly, "who can say whether it will be angels or devils who will come in the night." ”

No one could say for sure what would fall in the night, but for Alfred, it was destined to be restless.

For some reason, Alfred's spirits suddenly improved after entering Billy Shelly, especially after hearing that Alfonso had died, and I don't know whether it was because of joy or sadness, the young king, who was obviously stimulated, insisted on holding a grand funeral for his cousin, and repeatedly claimed to attend it himself.

Although this decision caused many suspicions, Alfred still claimed that he must attend Alfonso's funeral himself, so he woke up late at night and asked about it, although the servant who was waiting next to him could not say why.

It wasn't until late at night that Alfonso fell into a complete sleep, but when the servants finally breathed a sigh of relief, and then each found a place to rest, Alfonso woke up.

He woke up because he felt a chill and because he had a ridiculous dream.

In the dream he saw his wife sitting on the throne again as she had been when they had been married, but she seemed to be wearing the queen's crown on her head, and beside her, a familiar figure made Alfonso wonder.

From time to time, the man leaned over to kiss Josha, and Alfonso knew it wasn't him, but he couldn't imagine it being who he thought it was.

Alfonso tried to see the face, so he kept moving forward, and when the man's face finally came into his eyes, and he couldn't help but let out an exclamation, he woke up.

The night was still very cold at Billyselly, so the servants had closed the window before, but now the window was blown open by the wind, and a little cold mountain wind blew in through the window, and the young king slowly opened his eyes.

A small figure lay beside the bed, leaning on the head of the bed as if standing unsteadily, his body half-leaning over Alfonso's head, blocking the moonlight from the window behind him.

Alfonso had a vague glimpse of a terrible face, scarred and uneven, as if it had been torn alive by some beast and then pieced together.

Alfonso opened his mouth and let out a scream, but then he realized that his mouth was tightly gagged, and his voice could only roll in his throat but could not spit out.

Alfonso trembled and reached out to grab something beside him, but his arm was pressed again, and then he was horrified to see the face that seemed to come out of hell approaching him, and a low, hoarse voice whispered in his ear with some urgency: "Listen you must die, this is my only chance, I know you are the king, but God did not choose you, so you are unfortunate, your death will not let me go to hell, because I have already been to that place." ”

Alfonso couldn't stop struggling, he tried to get up but his whole body was weak, he wanted to cry out for help but was tightly covered by a hand around his mouth and nose, but Alfonso felt that although the person had a lot of strength, he didn't seem to be able to use it, which made him struggle even harder, and at the same time he desperately swung his arm and tried to smash the bedpost next to him with his fist to make some noise, which made him struggle to get rid of the terrible assassin's hands.

"They won't let you live, no one will let you live, you're their stumbling block, you're doomed to die."

The pain in his leg made the scarred man dizzy, and he knew that it was because he had used too much force to break open the wound that had been scalded with a soldering iron not long ago, but he didn't care about that, as he said, so many people wanted this Alfred to die, and now it was the scar man himself who wanted him to die the most.

Alfonso was still struggling, but he had no strength, his body was twisting, his head was pressed tightly into the pillow because his mouth and nose were covered, his chest was shaking violently, but he no longer had the strength to get out of those clutches.

Suddenly, the Assassin's hand covering his mouth and nose loosened slightly, and a large stream of breath poured into his mouth and nose, and Venus appeared in front of Alfonso's eyes.

The moment the Assassin pulled the pillow over his head and face, Alfonso let out a grunting sound in his throat.

If the Assassin could understand, he would have heard Alfonso ask, "Is it my wife who wants you to kill me?" ”

It's a pity that Alfonsu's question obviously didn't have a chance to be raised, and the scar man only wanted to complete this life-and-death task for him as soon as possible.

The pillow pressed against Alfonso's head, and with such force and force that the king's struggle became weaker, and finally his legs kicked a few times on the bed, and finally collapsed downward, and the whole person was silent again.

The room was filled only with the heavy panting of the scarred man, who first tentatively loosened the pillow, and when he realized that the king was indeed silent, he removed the pillow to reveal a hideous face with a wide open mouth and wide eyes.

"The king is the master of the world, but he still cannot escape the supreme law of the world." The man made a cross on his chest, and with some difficulty he placed the pillow under Alfred's head, then picked up a stick from the side and gritted his teeth and moved towards the door.

The door opened, and a guard half leaning against the door slowly fell, with a crossbow bolt stuck in his throat.

The man looked carefully into the corridor, there were originally two guards at the door of the king's room, but one of them suddenly made an excuse to leave not long ago, the scar man did not believe that it was a coincidence, he only knew that the count of Mordilo did have formidable power and influence in Naples.

The man cautiously walked down the hallway, not knowing if someone would pop up behind a corner or pillar next, and then slit his throat with a sharp dagger.

Knowing that it was very likely, he had no choice, and if he wanted to live, he had to do what the Count told him to do.

To the scarred man's surprise, he quietly left the route according to the route ordered by Count Mordillo, and although there were guards passing by, he was very clever in dodging them, and when he finally walked out of a dark alley, he saw a figure standing in the moonlight.

"Your Excellency." The scarred man's low figure was slightly shorter downward, and then he looked up at Count Mordillo.

"Done?" The Count asked as he stroked the mane of the horse beside him, and seeing the man's twinkling eyes, Mordillo walked over and reached out to grab his chin, forcing him to look up at himself, "I'm asking you." ”

"Yes, I did what you told me to do." The man trembled and replied, although he had been the most ferocious robber, although he had done too many terrible things, but in front of this man he was always humble and timid, and he did not even have the slightest thought of resisting, because he knew how terrible this man was, which made him forget the pain of his broken leg and tremble and said, "Your Excellency, you promised me......"

"I promised you to set you free." The Count let go of him as he spoke, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping his hands in disgust, "You can go now, but don't let me see you again." ”

"Thank you, sir."

The scarred man staggered a few steps forward, when he was suddenly frightened by the "stop" coming from behind him.

He turned slowly, looking at the Count with desperate eyes.

"You've attacked Count Montina before, haven't you?" Mordillo asked, seeing that the scar on the man's face seemed to tremble, and the Count walked up a few steps and continued to ask, "Tell me the truth." ”

"Yes, but it's all about making money, and you know we've had a terrible time." The scarred man dodged the Count's gaze.

"That's when you got this wound? Tell me where it is? ”

Hearing the Earl's inquiry, the scarred man's eyes first showed anger and hatred, but then he seemed to remember something and immediately became full of terror.

"It's not far from the Sanroni Mountains, in a town called Tampura." The man's voice said in a peculiar tone, as if he was suppressing some irrepressible terror in his heart, "We were going to attack him there, but we fell into a trap, and many of us fled together, but we couldn't escape, we met the wolves, everyone was torn to pieces, that night there were wolves everywhere, I don't know how I escaped, but when I woke up, there was no part of my body that was fine, but I survived." ”

Count Mordillo listened to the man's words, looked carefully at his scarred face, and then reached out and carefully stroked the scars on his face.

"I think it must hurt," said the Earl, thinking for a moment, and taking a ring encrusted with rubies from his hand, "you take this as your reward for my service." ”

"Thank you, sir." The scarred man immediately bowed respectfully, and then took the ring very carefully, he knew that this ring would be the support of him for the rest of his life after breaking a leg and never being a mercenary again, so he cautiously put the ring in the hidden pocket of his clothes.

"Okay, you can go now." The Count nodded, then handed the reins of the horse in his hand to the man, "Although you can't ride a horse now, you may need it later." ”

The scarred man glanced at the Count gratefully, for the first time since he had seen Mordillo that he had not looked at him with fear.

He turned and limped forward with his horse and his stick, and when he took a few steps, the Count's voice came from behind him: "Juan." ”

The short, scarred man's body shuddered, and although his name was so ordinary, it was the first time he had heard one of those who knew him call him.

The short man named Juan didn't look back, and he let out a muffled voice from his throat: "Do you have any other orders, sir?" ”

"Do you remember the kid you brought to see me?"

The Count's words made the short man's body tremble in secret, and his hand with a wooden staff trembled as if he wanted to grope for something, but in the end he did not dare to continue.

"I'm sorry sir, what kind of child are you talking about," the short man said, closing his eyes, but reluctantly continued, "I beg your pardon, but maybe you are mistaken, I don't remember any children." ”

"yes, maybe it's really me who remembers." The Count paused, and just as the man was about to suffocate with nervousness, Modillo's voice came, "Let's go, leave here before anyone finds out, and don't let me see you again." ”

"Thank you, sir......" the man said in a deep voice, leading the horse forward.

Looking at the vanishing figure, Count Mordilo slowly lowered the musket raised against his back.

Looking up at the bright moon overhead, the Count exhaled softly.

He remembered very well that the moon was the same that night as it is now, and Juan sent George Anne to his lodgings with the child.

Black eyes, black hair, like angels descending in the night.

In the distance, a cry full of terror suddenly sounded in the quiet night, and the Count of Mordillo looked back in the direction of the castle, then took out a bottle of wine from his pocket and took a sip of it, and then gently raised it towards the corner of the castle: "God bless, long live the Queen." ”