"Good day, Nishita." I leaned on the brim of my hat that didn't exist, and nodded gracefully and appropriately at Silvestre, who was lying there softly.

"Good day, my lord." Even though his vocal cords were hoarse like a torn plastic sheet, Sylvester maintained his dignity as a pope.

"I didn't expect to see you again in such a way."

"I didn't expect you to have that many viewers with you."

Sylvestre's-for-tat answer, the physical pain could not stop his nimble and sharp irony, just talking about the kung fu of the Pope Ni is absolutely the first in the world, even Aristotle's resurrection is not an opponent, he is a well-known master of rhetoric.

"Let's check your injuries, Neon."

Although the shocking wounds on his thighs and his increasingly pale face said it all, I still had to pose in front of everyone.

Sylvester looked at me playfully, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes eroded by the years carved into the skin, like a bottomless ravine, the whole life experience was hidden in it, he once relied on this personable pedant temperament, won the trust of Otto the Great and the respect of Otto II, and then ascended to the Vatican's papal throne step by step, but those who know him know what kind of ambition to chase power under the harmless appearance of humans and animals.

"I'm afraid I'm going to reject your kindness, Lord Duke, God is already calling me."

At this moment, the Pope has lost his prestige, and the appearance of the decadent Tang is more like an old man who knows the destiny of heaven.

"All flesh is like withering grass, and all his withered glory is like a flower on the grass, and the grass withers, and the flower falls: endure until the Lord comes......"

He babbled and requiemed for himself, and the knights fell to their knees, their devotion to their devotion that they felt grieved by the pontiful belief that they had been called to the Pope.

"You also have sorrow now, but when I see you now, your hearts will be filled with joy, and no one can take away this joy, and you see me, I have toiled and sorrowed, and at last I have been comforted, and I will comfort you, as a mother comforts her child."

Sylvester looked down on the knights who knelt down beside him, as if he were sitting on the throne of St. Peter's Church, and some of the knights even sobbed because they had been forgiven by the Pope, but I could only answer the prayer in frustration and helplessness.

"Okay boys, please leave me alone with Lord Duke for the rest of the time, for God's sake, is it okay?"

Seeing the weeping knights gradually walk away, Sylvester sighed with emotion: "This is really fate, isn't it, Lord Duke?" ”

"You shouldn't have fled, Ni Xia, your battalion is entrenched in the mountains, it has an incomparable geographical advantage, and there are more people than us, we are likely to be frustrated if the battle continues, the situation on the battlefield is changing rapidly, and the smooth sailing at the beginning cannot determine the final result."

I sat down on the floor about a step or so away from him, unfastening my tightly fastened cowhide gloves as I spoke: "It's a shame that you didn't get your breath down. ”

He raised the palm that covered the wound and put it in front of his eyes to look at it carefully, as if it did not belong to a part of his body, the viscous dark red and even a little fishy blood seeped into every texture of the skin, he pouted strangely, and was stunned for a long time before saying:

"Victory is only one step away from me, but unfortunately I can't grasp it, these hands that have rubbed countless scriptures, after all, can't skillfully play with scheming and swords."

"It is not proper for a servant of God to speak so blatantly of conspiracy, like a thief declaring his identity in broad daylight." I'm a little surprised by Sylvester's naked expression, is this the legendary man who will die and his words are good?

"Hehe, it's just you and me here and now, my lord, maybe God can hear our conversation, but he won't blame a dying man for his nonsense."

He pressed his palm back into the wound, let out a low *, and his face became even paler: "I have not been able to defeat the ...... of fate after all"

"It is surprising that these words came out of your mouth, as the heir of St. Peter, it is a blasphemy to speak of victory over fate, rest assured, I will not hear anything, Ni Majesty, you should go to God to make a confession." I shook my gloves and patted the dust off my trouser legs and replied nonchalantly.

"Thinking about my own life, I am indeed unwilling."

Aurique's Rebel coughed lightly, and the corners of his mouth overflowed with a little bloodshot: "But from the moment I followed Count Borrell into the Vatican, I was destined to be unable to finish the next road calmly, the Pope's appreciation, the emperor's favor, and the admiration of all the people are all invisible hands that push you to the abyss." Sometimes I think that it may not have been a pleasant decision to stay in the monastery of St. Mary's de Ripal to study the scriptures, but unfortunately I have gone astray and asked for too much, God has shown the beauty of the world before your eyes, not to waste your life chasing fame and fortune, but to teach sentient beings to give up pleasures and devote themselves to the right path. ”

I stood up and walked over to the side of the horse that was grazing grass with my head bowed, and removed the water bladder hanging from the saddle sheath, which had been filled with water from the departure two days earlier, and was a little rancid in the skin.

"I see you're thirsty, would you like to moisten your throat a little?"

I unscrewed my holster and handed the bladder to Rebel in Auriach: "I don't know much about fate, this is the trajectory that everyone has been designed by God since birth, and it is difficult for anyone to change, and if God really hints at fate, it is only for your pious favor." ”

Sylvester only snorted shallowly, this thing was simply hard to swallow compared to the wine he usually drank, what made a poor peasant child become a high king, was that just fate? I didn't care about stuffing the water bladder into my mouth, leaning my neck and pouring it hard, my throat was indeed a little dry after chasing it for so long.

"My fisherman's authority is gone." Sylvester fumbled through his torn robes, searching for a ring that symbolized his power.

"It's here, under the neon."

I took out the ring in my arms and carefully pinched it to show him: "It's so good, it hasn't even left a scratch." ”

"I had people mix it with silver to make it look more translucent."

He twisted his forehead, carefully combed each strand of hair, and then set it with a special glue, so that no matter how he moved, he could maintain the original shape.

"Do you see that delicate pattern on the side? It was the decoration that I had traced on the Carthaginian manuscript when I was in the monastery, and it was perfect with the passages of the Bible! ”

I turned the ring and carefully studied the engraved calligraphy:

Alleluia! For the Lord our God, the Almighty, is king, and the kingdoms of the world are the kingdom of our Lord and of Christ, and he will reign forever and ever, King of kings and Lord of lords.

Although I don't know much about it, I can still recognize a few words that appear in the Bible more often.

"This is a precept from the book of Revelation, and it is indeed very appropriate to engrave it on the authority of the fisherman."

"The kingdoms of the world have become the kingdom of my Lord and of Christ, and he shall reign forever and ever, King of kings and Lord of lords......"

Sylvester coughed violently against his chest again, tearing his already weak voice to pieces: "Why don't you lords never understand? In this world, only God is the only supreme, and obedience to the Vatican is obedience to God's will, why don't you understand! ”

Looking at this poor man who was still obsessed with death, I don't know whether to feel sad or happy for him, sad that he is doing those illusions that will never be realized, happy that he has always maintained his true original intention, in the long and ever-changing life, who dares to guarantee that he will remain the same?

People who change adapt to the development of the times and survive tenaciously, and those who persist are lucky to keep their true selves. Do both have the power to judge the other? Or is there neither of them?

I tossed the empty water bladder to my feet, and the remaining droplets fell to the dry ground, kicking up small dust that was fleeting.

"If only one of them understood the true meaning of this, Christ our Lord would not have been crucified, and the number of martyrs enshrined in the shrine would not have increased."

I stared at Sylvester with a smirk, and he tilted his head to stare at me as well, oblivious to the alleged blasphemy he had just made.

"Do you believe that the knight's sword is there to defend the faith? In short, I don't believe it, they have been training how to kill and prevent being killed since they were young, stepping on the accumulated bones of others to lay the foundation for their own **, as long as they have the opportunity to enjoy the taste of power for even one day, no matter how devout believers are, they can convert to pagan gods and do dirty deeds that hurt heaven and reason, aren't you exactly like that, Ni Xia? You and I actually understand that this is nothing more than a game of thrones, there are no winners, no neutrals, only nameless losers and eternal pursuits. ”

Sylvester grinned, and though the movement sounded like the hoarse chirp of an old crow spotting the carrion, I understood what he meant.

"I like your theories, my friend, sharp, precise, and biased, and if someone hates your straightforwardness, then this person is either a simple fool or a sanctimonious liar." His eyelids drooped, as if he would fall asleep at any moment.

I knew that he had reached the most critical moment, the blood in his body was gone, and the signs of life were irreversibly disappearing.

Is it a pity for the death of an opponent? The Pope, who only plays with power and has no actual control over the army, is not even an imaginary enemy, he is too stubborn, his brain is entangled in the unrealistic and illusory imagination of nerds, and his childlike intrigues are really inferior to that Gregory V, who is a dragon who does not see the beginning and the end.

God is indeed a crazy screenwriter, giving Gregory all the qualities he needs to reach the top, but he does not give him enough time, gives Sylvester the best opportunity, but deprives him of the power to scheming, the ridiculous and funny fate is so, how easy is it to do the right thing at the right time, in the right place, with the right person? How hard is it?

"Lord Duke."

With each word Sylvester spat out, he had to pause and gasp for air, his eyes disfocused.

"Grant my last request, okay......"

"I've always been happy to be an adult, Ni Xi, you have never been my enemy, but I chose to stand on my side at a critical moment, I don't hate you, and I didn't want to kill you."

Speaking of this, I paused slightly, in fact, these are my own heartfelt words, except for the last sentence, so I licked my lips slightly embarrassed, and the smell of the stinky water in the water bladder lingered for a long time.

"Say it, I'll say yes."

He grinned again, but it was too small to tell whether the corners of his mouth twitched or he smiled, and he pursed his lips, as if to accumulate the strength to speak, and only after a while did he say:

"I want to be called with my own fisherman's authority, after all, it once belonged to a pope."

I nodded, and carefully helped him put the ring on his shriveled index finger, the gold thing was heavy, and the weak Sylvester obviously couldn't raise his arm to look at it, but his heavy head hung listlessly, and the glittering reflection of the ring came into view.

"Fisherman's Authority ........."

He let out a long sigh of relief, almost using all his strength.

"I've been chasing you for fifty years, and I've only had a snap of a finger."

He roared unwillingly, his flushed face making his body full of vitality again, which may be the legendary return to the light, the last roar of the dying man to the world.

Suddenly, he jerked his finger up to his mouth and swallowed the whole ring!

By the time I was too late to react, Sylvester sneered like a child who had succeeded in his prank, and muttered a sentence:

"Forgive me for my selfishness and paranoia, friend ......" said this, this half-life idealist finally breathed, and his eyes were still full of inexhaustible stubbornness.

I stood up and turned my back to the knights who had heard the news, and said slowly:

"His Majesty has been called, pray for his noble soul......"

——————————

"Everyone?"

"Yes, everyone."

Rollo replied to my questioning: "It is crazy to say, the enemy's stubborn resistance has caused great casualties to our knights, and the enraged knights, after capturing the position on the hill, have slain many rebels who refused to surrender, and the heads are rolling and the blood is flowing, as if Satan is wielding his sickle to harvest life, but no one begs for mercy, but there are still quite a few enemies who have fled, and the mountains are full of routs who have lost their armor and run around, and we have chased after them and cut down many of them, but unfortunately most of them have escaped." ”

"Why didn't the Basel people do their best when they couldn't complete the encirclement? Or is your offensive not working? ”

I don't like the way he answers questions, as a subordinate just say yes or no, lately he's been a bit verbose.

"What about the priests, didn't they have any left?"