As mentioned earlier, St. Francis voluntarily buried himself in the mound of hell where the bodies of criminals and outcasts were buried, which was an act of humility and self-control. Pen | fun | pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 Sadly, the deceased had no say, and within a few years of his burial he was dug up from the hill renamed the Mountain of Heaven and reburied in the lower chapel of St. Francis's Church, a splendid hall with splendid frescoes from the walls to the top, and above the saint's burial chamber stood a small room inlaid with jewels and gold - and underground, according to the customs, beliefs and laws of the time, there was a mausoleum in the shape of a corridor, In the semicircular white marble arch is a chrysalis chamber with carved saints, angels and flowers, most of which are empty, but there are also people who have been gloriously sleeping in the same place with St. Francis for eternity.

Of course, very few people were allowed or willing to come in, and although some cleaned regularly, even the Franciscan friars, who called "death" their "sister", would not be happy to come here and grind with the cold dark sideburns.

――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――

"Lardskin" is a mercenary.

Or was it twenty-six years ago, when he was strong and young and ambitious, and as a bohemian he was unwilling to take care of the fields or the cattle and sheep, the king of Hungary, Hunyadi? When Matthias I decided to recruit a standing army of mercenaries independent of the nobility (the knights and soldiers of the legion were called "black army" because of their black armor), he did not hesitate to sign up and become a soldier, thinking of how proud and happy he was at that time, even if he could not wear all-black armor like a knight, but as the best of the soldiers, he not only had a steel flail, a large shield, and an arquebus. Unfortunately, the good times were short-lived, and in a fierce battle, he was speared through his left shoulder, and he was never able to return to the "Black Army".

After healing from his injuries, he also served for other mercenary regiments, and the nickname "Lard" came from that time, with a hint of irony, "Lardskin" knew that some stupid people thought they were not brave enough, but where the brave people were, it had long since become a meal for the wild dogs; He was occasionally hired by a bishop, but the lord needed not soldiers but Assassins, and after completing a few tasks, Lard was surprised to find that the Assassin was the most suitable profession for him—he liked to quietly put silk ropes around the necks of his prey, grasp the wooden balls, and listen to the last hissing sounds from between his teeth—and in the process of working, he would cling to the bodies of his victims, feeling the last powerful but futile struggle, as if he could taste and draw precious vitality from their bodies. He knew that this thought and behavior was almost akin to that of the devil, so he was careful not to let anyone know about this unique little hobby

He looked at the cross behind him, "In the name of God." He whispered.

The Assassin waited less than a quarter of a candle before there was a slight clicking sound from above, like "Lard Skin", and the man took off his shoes, after all, both the underside of the wood and the underside of the cowhide would make a very loud sound on the stone floor, and he held his breath and waited.

――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――

Joshua was cold, and the cold seemed to be particularly strong tonight, and the cold was like an awl into the soles of his feet, and he put a lantern on his breast, and covered it with a cloak, just as St. Joseph carried the lantern during the pilgrimage of the Virgin, and his mood was also anxious, like a thirsty traveler rushing to the sweet spring—the moment he entered the mausoleum, the oncoming darkness made the child shiver, and he went down, and the missing corner of the staircase cut his toes, but he walked down unconsciously, The lantern could only illuminate less than a foot around him, and it was as if he were walking into the open mouth of a monstrous beast.

By this time the "lard" had already lit the candle, which was on the altar of St. Francis, and in the dry stone box, there was a fine wood soaked in sulfur, and he carried the flint with him, and with the handle of the dagger he tapped on it, and the spark burst out, and the velvet lit the firewood, and he used the firewood to light a candle that was only a third of it, and the quality of the candle was not very good, the light was dim but it was sufficient.

Joshua lifted the lantern and became wary when he saw Lardskin's face.

"I'm here on orders from your lordship." "Lardskin" said, lifting the tunic so that the child could see the coat of arms drawn on the long underwear: "I have come to visit you on his behalf, and your mother." ”

"What happened to Joao?"

"Are you talking about my ex?" "Lard" said: "He broke his leg, and he is not called Joao, he is called Barth." ”

Joshua's eyes were a little less nervous, "How's the adult doing?" ”

"A little tired, but other than that, he's like a bull." "Lard" replied as he recalled that before he left Rome, he had heard that his master had a banquet at which fifty deer and twice as many prostitutes were there.

Joshua was a little reluctant to describe "lard", but his desire for his father quickly led him to put the little thing aside: "Did you write to me, sir?" ”

"I'm officially here for this." "Lard skin" said.

Joshua put down the lantern and hastily took the brass cylinder, which he unscrewed and poured out a roll of parchment, which was dripping with bright red fire paint and a distinctive seal of ring, and Joshua finally let go of the last of his doubts when he saw the familiar seal—as he read the words of the letter intently and hungrily, "Lardskin" walked up behind him: "It's too dark," the Assassin said casually, "Light another candle." ”

At first, Joshua didn't even understand what he was talking about, he heard the sound of flint pounding, and then the light in front of him suddenly flickered, purely instinctively, and he jerked his hand up to his throat, and before he could even put down the letter, the silk rope swept over the tip of the boy's nose, slid down his jaw, and then tightened in the place where the Adam's apple had not yet raised. The child's feet kicked violently, the lantern on the ground tumbled and extinguished with a crisp click, and the Assassin arched his back and enveloped him with his own body.

Joshua's ears were ringing, his eyes were covered with a dark gloom, and he heard the murderer reciting a psalm from the Bible, his voice greasy and calm: "Bless me, O God, for I have taken refuge in you." He read.

"O my heart, you said to the Lord, 'You are my Lord; My good is not outside of you.

And of the saints of the world, they are beautiful and good, and they are the most pleasing ...... to me."

"Lard" listened attentively, and the gurgling sound familiar to him sounded, alas, whether it was a child or an old man, in the face of death, it always seemed to have endless strength.

"The sorrow of those who replace the Lord with other gods will increase. I will not offer the blood they have poured out, nor will I mention the name of another god on my lips.

The LORD is my inheritance and my portion of my cup. You keep for me what I have gained.

Measure my land with a rope, and sit in a beautiful place. My inheritance is wonderful.

I will bless the LORD who hath taught me, and my heart will warn me in the night. ”

He said that it was the only prayer he could recite consistently, and it was ironically not for praise or repentance, but for judging how long it would be before he could finish the work at hand - this was one of the tricks given to him by the Assassins who taught him how to use the silk rope noose, to strangle a child he should recite the prayer more than twice in a row, to strangle a woman with full breasts four times, a strong man to do it five times, and an old man to do it six or seven times, although they were old and weak, But it takes less air than young people.

"I have set the LORD before me always; Because he is at my right hand, I will not be moved.

Therefore my heart rejoices, and my spirit rejoices; and my flesh shall dwell in safety.

For thou wilt not leave my soul in hell, neither wilt thou shalt lead thy holy one to perish.

Thou shalt show me the way of life, and thou shalt have full joy before thee, and everlasting joy in thy right hand. ”

The lard recited the prayer three times in a row before he lowered his clenched hands, untied the rope, and let the boy lie flat on the cold rocky floor as if he were sleeping. He pulled out the dagger and moved it under the child's nose, the mist that symbolized life did not appear on it, and he tried to lift the boy's mask to see his dead face, but his fingers stopped at the edge of the mask. "Lardskin" picked up the boy and placed him in the empty sarcophagus he had observed and chosen, and then removed the heavy lid.

He re-lit the lantern, extinguished the candle, and picked up the fallen letter, the parchment crumpled.

――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――

Father Valencia, the Caesar of Borgia, pressed Giulio's mouth firmly, but the impulse of the little Medici was fleeting, and they slowed their breathing and hid themselves in the shadow of the columns, and when the Assassin strangled Joshua Bo himself, the black shadows stretched by the light of the candles were less than a foot away from them, and they swayed as if the devil was about to crawl out of hell.

They listened in silence, and just as Father Valencia was about to step out, Giulio suddenly grabbed him, and then they heard the sound of dangerous breathing—the Assassin had gone and returned, standing between the pillars, silent, daggers reflecting a faint light at his side.

He stood for probably a hundred years, at least so the boy and boy thought, and left as quietly as he had done the last time.

This time it was Giulio who ran out of hiding first, and Caesar hesitated and followed, but to his surprise, Giulio did not flee in a panic, but threw himself on the sarcophagus and began to push the lid desperately.

"He's dead!" Caesar shouted in a low voice, the Borgia family also raised assassins, and he had also seen executions with his own eyes, both men and women, and an adult who was strangled by a silk rope for such a long time would inevitably die, not to mention that Joshua was only a child.

"Help me! Fast! Giulio panted and said that he was only six years old, and although he was very healthy, the height of the lid of the coffin had already passed over his head, and he could not use his strength even if he stood on tiptoe.

Caesar let out a short sigh, and just when Giulio thought he had refused, Caesar pulled out an iron rod with a flat head from behind the altar, inserted it into the gap in the lid, and pushed it up with all his strength, and then pushed it back, the lid rubbed against the sarcophagus with a tooth-aching creak, but in the next moment, a terrible loud bang shook the entire mausoleum, and the lid fell to the ground and fell to pieces.

Then something happened that stunned Caesar even more, and the Medici Giulio jumped into the sarcophagus like a rabbit with its tail cut off, and made something Caesar could not understand, but could understand: "I said he was dead!" ”

"Give me some light!" Julio ordered hurriedly.

Caesar paused, ran over and lit the candle, and he brought it to the sarcophagus, and saw that Julio had lifted Joshua's mask, and although he knew that Joshua had been hiding his face with a linen mask because of his great flaws, it was the first time that Caesar had seen his face so clearly—what a terrible face, and if it had been painted on a fresco or in a relief, people would have screamed and fled in all directions It was a bloated mass of crimson tumors huddled together, taking up the entire forehead and the left side of the face, and because of their encroachment, even the intact right side of the face was pulled out of shape, making Joshua's face look like a half-melted wax head.

Giulio didn't have time to think too much about it, thanks to the tradition of the monks not to wear any underwear or buttons, a thin and loose robe was perfect for first aid.

He knew why Caesar insisted that Joshua was dead, and he almost thought so, but he soon discovered that the place where Joshua's jaw joined his neck was also spreading with nodules, perhaps because of the warmth and humidity of the place, and the frequent friction between them, where the nodules were not so much tumors as fat growths, and in the flickering candlelight, it was clear that a deep and hideous wound had appeared there, and blood was pouring from it. But it was because of the traces left by the devil's kiss that the silk rope did not completely cut off Joshua's breath as the mercenary hoped - Giulio was not sure if Joshua really had a chance to be saved, but he was becoming Julio. Advance. Giuliano. Morality. Before Medici...... Or after that, he can't let an innocent person die.

For a moment, Caesar thought that Julio had been bent over by the devil, and not only did he sit on the body of a dead man without any scruples, but he kept shaking his body back and forth, and leaned down to kiss the deformed face, and even the beautiful face became hideous and strange under the light of the candles.

But just before he could do anything, he heard a long sniff - close and far away, Caesar. Borgia would never admit that he had been frightened by the convulsions—but he realized that it was a living person struggling to breathe, and that a badly injured throat did make such a sound.