The gates opened suddenly, and the chapel was brightly lit. The fat priest could see that there were more than a thousand large candles burning on the altar. The candles are divided into eight rows, separated by flowers.

The rich aroma of the purest cigarette emanates from the door of the sanctuary like a whirlpool of the tide. The newly-gilded chapel was cramped, but very rich, and the large candles on the altar were more than a foot and a half feet high

The church, an ancient church left over from the fourth century, was built of stone due to the generosity of the imperial nobility, who at first kept a chapel next to the high altar for their own use, and later kept an underground chapel for their burial cellar.

The church is also like the one in Constantinople, with its doors being a wide row of arcades with garlands on all sides, decorated with small images. Sandwiched on either side are two pillars with niches, the capitals are pointed, and the dome covers the entire church.

How vast and dark the church seemed to ordinary people, and how different it was from the churches of the imperial capital because of the thick pillars whose foundations had been worn away by centuries, and because of the grave-like, rotten, saltpeter smell!

It also feels like an old, ghostly place.

The fat priest's knowledge of the church was limited to the fact that it was built hundreds of years ago, and that there was once a nunnery or monastery attached to it, because of the crumbling arches, the remnants of the bay windows, and the black ruins of the walls.

The rest of the old buildings were falling apart, mixed with the grave's dirt and overgrown with grass, as if they were also asking for a place to bury, trying to mix their ashes with human bones.

In the immediate vicinity of these desolate monuments, that is, in one of the ruins, there are two small dwellings that had been painstakingly renovated in modern times, with recessed windows and doors, which were also about to collapse and lay empty and deserted.

There was a candle burning in a corner behind the pillars of the church, and an old man knelt in front of the candle praying, and the faint flame disappeared into the thin emptiness of those vaults......

"Dean, a baby who has just been abandoned at the door of our church." Giolando carried the child to the abbot.

"Ahh There's another newborn, and the other kids will be happy! ”

No one remembered the old dean's age, the white hair on his head was sparse, his trembling hand took the baby, and his wrinkled face showed an expression that was neither crying nor laughing.

"Oh, come and laugh!"

The old dean shook the child gently, his withered fingers poking at the child's cheek, and the white nails scratched the delicate skin.

"Dean, that's fine, I'll go first."

Seeing that the old dean was quite happy, the fat priest Chorando wiped the sweat from his forehead, and then took a few steps back to leave.

Turning around and leaving the church, Giorlando's face suddenly gloomy, looking at the dark chapel without five fingers, as if there was something terrible, he never looked back, and left the church directly.

……

The hurried footsteps couldn't stop the thoughts in his mind, and he shivered all over, and remembered that the crooked tombstone behind him had not been taken care of for a long time, and every time he passed by, there was an eerie feeling.

Jorando's legs trembled, and he had always wondered if the convent had adopted a dozen or so children by now, but he hadn't seen any of them since he had been assigned here.

What's even more terrifying is that he asked the people nearby, and everyone didn't know where the children went, but out of kindness, the people here thought that the old dean had sent the children to the diocesan headquarters to study, so the old dean's good name spread more widely.

But Giorlando knew very well that all this was fake, he had been in the convent for more than a year, and he had not seen a monk from the headquarters come to pick up the child.

But the abandoned babies sent here did disappear, and he didn't suspect this old man at first, but there are no impermeable walls in the world.

As time passed, the old dean's bloodshot eyes kept coming back to Giorando's mind, and he kept turning, his keen instincts warning him that he had to stay away from the old dean.

But in a trance, the baby's cute little face seemed to be still looking at him, and stopped, and Giorando looked down at his feet, and he felt a little pain in his heart, when did he become so cowardly.

"Whoever believes in God has eternal life!" The fat man stroked his chest a few times, and his heart gradually calmed down.

"Are you still going?" Chorlando spun in place, rubbing his hands, his black gown crumpled.

"I'll go back and see!" Reassuring himself, he mustered up his courage and turned back and walked towards the chapel, feeling that he was going to see it anyway.

The hidden door was reopened, the lights inside had been extinguished for some time, and the sound of knives and forks cutting could be faintly heard.

The fat man slowly approached the altar of the church, only the afterglow from the crucifix of Jesus Christ on the roof gave a little light, and the old abbot had his back to Giolando, who seemed to be eating.

"What are you doing?" Jorando's fingers trembled, and he saw blood stretching into the ground, and he urinated.

When the old dean heard the voice, he stopped his movements, turned his head slowly, tilted his head, his mouth was stained with blood, and he showed his teeth slightly and there was a little flesh hanging between his teeth.

"Hello! Jorando, would you like to try it together? It's delicious! ”

The old dean looked like a hideous demon from hell now, and Jorando would never forget this smile for the rest of his life, especially the eyes on his knife and fork that seemed to stare directly at him.

"Ahh Roaring like crazy, he turned around and tried to run out.

"Don't go!" The old dean seemed a little puzzled.

It seemed that Chorlando could escape with just a few steps, his fat body had never exercised so violently, and he vowed to escape from here far away, never to come again.

A black shadow blocked his way, and Giorrando couldn't stop his tracks, and he was about to crash into it, when he suddenly received a heavy blow to the back of his head, and Giorando's round body flew out several meters away.

His heavy eyelids drooped, his vision blurred by red blood, and in a trance, he could still see a few people walking in front of him, weren't they the parishioners in the monastery? Are they in a gang?

Finished! It was dark, and Jorando fainted.

A priest walked over: "Dean, what should I do with Jorando?" He already knows our secrets, after all. ”

The old dean turned around and continued to eat, his knife and fork constantly cutting something.

"The blood of the Holy Grail cannot be left empty, since there is still a lack of sacrifices, it is better to use Chorando, to be able to sacrifice for the Holy Son, this is his glory."