"Warriors of God!"

I raised my sword high into the air, loosened the reins, and let my mount gallop along the rocky mountain road.

"The opportunity to go down in history is before you, endless glory will accompany you for life, and the promenade leading to St. Peter's Church will be engraved with the name of each of you! Come on! Kill them all! ”

"God bless Nijmegen!"

The passion of the knights burned to the point, a pair of bloodshot pupils like predatory beasts, if you can kill with your eyes alone, the guards rushing on the opposite side will definitely die without a place to be buried, the knights shouted and crashed into the enemy without fear, and the heads of the swords and swords have fallen to the ground.

"Drink!"

Riding on a rocket-like horse, I only had a face-to-face encounter with my opponent, and the moment the weapons intersected, I only had time to burst out of sparks, and I quickly staggered.

I didn't dare to pull the reins too hard, for fear of falling into a frenzy and falling to the ground in a frenzy, so I slowly wrapped the rope around my hand and controlled the horse with the help of the gradually rising terrain.

The Pope's carriage drifted away in the dust and smoke raised by the two sides, and once again pulled the distance away, but I was not worried that they would be able to throw themselves off, the folds between the valleys made the flat path uphill, and the weathered gravel increased, and if only the thin axles and spokes of the broken carriage were to be torn apart, even if they were lucky not to break and fall apart, the Pope hiding in the carriage would be turned half to death, and the wheels as big as two pot lids and a four-legged war horse would be more uphill than climbing? Unless Sylvester's prayer summons the archangel to help, they will surely die.

"Devil!"

I quickly opened the long sword cut by the enemy, the cold blade brought a piercing chill through the pores wrapped in heavy armor, the opponent's sword almost used all the strength, which also made the front hooves of his war horse staggered and wanted to fall, I quickly grabbed the sword flower, and slashed from top to bottom.

"Go to hell, bastard!"

With my roar, the enemy rider suddenly turned his head away.

I don't know if our knights are indeed possessed by the god of war, favored by God, or if the fleeing enemy no longer has the courage to resist the fierce attack, and the superior papal guards can not bargain for anything in the confrontation with the knights of Nijmegen, and their helpless swords, wounded, fallen horses, and death, like violently burning candles, burst into dazzling light in an instant, but unfortunately their lives ended very quickly.

"Catch up, hurry!"

I shouted excitedly, judging from the usual calm image, but at this time, no one had the heart to dwell on the change in the Duke's temperament, the unexpected success of the battle made the knights even more crazy, the gushing blood and the dyings rolling on the ground were no longer able to satisfy their desire to kill, and I believe that even if they were facing God himself, I am afraid that they would not hesitate to swing their swords.

Years of fighting have cultivated an almost instinctive reaction that keeps these almost weak war machines running in an orderly manner, and the knights form two groups in groups and chase through the billowing wind and dust along the edge of the rugged path torn by rubble and ruts, the shaking of the horses' hooves against the ground like the drums of war, and although there are only a few riders, they stun the fleeing enemy with overwhelming momentum.

At such times, it must be the faithful and devout who are still persisting, and even the dullest fool can see that the Pope has reached the end of the road, and to follow him is tantamount to self-defeating.

In the process of climbing the rocky uphill, the only few guards next to the carriage finally collapsed, some turned their horses and defected, some gave up their followers and were at a loss for what to do, and some of them lost their hooves and fell to pieces, and by the time the knights of Nijmegen had completely outflanked the carriage, there were only three guards left behind the carriage who had lost their armor.

The carriage still rolled forward, the whip of the charioteer whipped the thighs of the two horses bloodied, the flesh turned sideways, and the corners of their mouths foamed with disgust, and the three guards looked at each other decisively, and then resolutely shouted the holy horn, and threw themselves into the last dying struggle.

I gave way to the desperate dash of the other party, and easily cut it off with my sword left and right, and the mournful neighing of the lost master's war horse, like a walking corpse that had lost its soul, and stepped into the unknown path in confusion, and disappeared in the yellow dust raised by the dry sand, and the Pope's carriage rolled against the hard ground, making a lonely rolling sound.

As I was so close to success, I flinched, my men tightened the reins, consciously or unconsciously, and watched as the carriage crossed the hillside and disappeared into the bend of the road.

"My lord, why didn't you chase it?" A knight with a blood-coated face that couldn't make out his face rode up and asked in an eager and puzzled tone.

"This ......"

I licked my chapped lips and didn't reply, instead staring at the dust that was slowly dissipating.

What am I afraid of? This question turns into a sharp spear, constantly piercing the line of defense that you think you are sure in the depths of your heart, yes! What am I afraid of?

Whoever arrives at this juncture will be afraid, whether that person is a prophetic and unstinting time-traveler, there are too many things to take into account.

Sitting in the carriage is the Pope of the Vatican!

Even if his position is like duckweed without roots, which can be destroyed by a storm, he is really a pope, and no one dares to risk going to hell to kill the successor of St. Peter with his own hands, especially the relatively religious Frankish kingdoms, although everyone calls Ni Xia a coquettish clown everywhere, but no one really wants to be this doomed kingkiller!

When I came back to my senses, I finally gave the order: "Catch up and cut off the carriage!" ”

People often attribute the unexpected to fate, an ambiguous word that encapsulates the ecstasy of a sudden fall of fortune and the despair of the imminent doom.

"It's fate......"

I saw the tragic image in front of me pull the reins violently, and I couldn't help but blurt out.

"My lord, do we need to go up and check it out?" The knight of Sonor from Friesland asked hesitantly, struggling to control his excited mount.

I was noncommittal to his request, and slowly urged my horse to approach the scene of the accident in front of me.

His Majesty's carriage was now covered with broken wooden beams and fragments, the arm-thick axle was completely broken, one of the two wheels was completely scrapped, and the other was still embedded in it, and the closed carriage was like a child's randomly spliced building blocks, twisted and slanted into a horrible shape.

The coachman's limbs were twisted and lying on the ground, a broken wood stained red by blood was inserted into his chest, and the white bone stubble was exposed, mixed with dark green organs, and it was so disgusting that people couldn't help but want to vomit.

The horse pulling the cart also didn't know where to go, judging from the messy ruts nearby, it was this missing crazy horse, which caused the terrible accident of the car crash and death, but no one cared about these inconsequential things, all eyes were focused on the deformed carriage, and everyone was eager to know, whether Pope Silvestre, who should be inside, was dead or alive?

I leaned over and looked at the ground for the slightest clue, and there was no blood next to the carriage, indicating that the Pope was still cowering in the carriage, if he did escape in the carriage.

Thinking of this, I was suddenly sent a chill down my spine by this question, and a sense of fear of falling into a trap instantly enveloped my whole body and mind, and Sylvester's old pedantic image slowly emerged.

"God willing!"

I had never been so reverently crossed on my chest and prayed in whispers that no one else could hear, as if the great battle that was raging on a few hills outside had nothing to do with me, and it had indeed become irrelevant, and that it would be all over if the Pope fell to his death.

"Someone!"

I tried to pretend to be calm, and slowly turned around, waving my hand to the knights waiting next to me.

"Go over and see the situation, don't spoil the ...... scene"

Under my gaze, several people led by the knight of Sonor jumped off the war horse, you look at me, I look at you standing in place at a loss, and you don't dare to be the first to go up, after all, it is the Pope, the nominal supreme existence of the entire Christian world, in case of a slight carelessness, the ensuing joint and several liability, but no one can afford it.

"Your Excellency."

Sonor was stained with black blood from the torn chain mail on his arm, and he swallowed nervously and spit, even though his astringent lips were dry and almost smoking.

"What if...... I mean, if Ni Xia was still alive, and we accidentally injured the noble Pope in the process of moving the carriage, do you know how great the sin is? The Vatican will definitely order our expulsion! ”

I listened to the knight's rambling questioning, and what he was worried about was what he didn't want to face, but the bottom line of our psychology was fundamentally different, as a knight who was devout to Christ and the lord, he cared more about not breaking his faith and the oath he had made, which of course included excommunication of God and his walking pope on earth.

At least for a serious knight on the surface, it is tantamount to the destruction of hope for the future, and as a believer in the supremacy of pragmatism, I am more concerned about whether I can finish the battle and use the death of the Pope to completely destroy the Vatican, which is now under my control, and then re-establish the power and influence of Nijmegen, the Pope is also a mortal, a tool at my mercy to achieve political goals, so he needs to die, and he must die!

"Do I have to teach you how to do it?"

I pretended to be angry and yelled at a few submissive knights, but I was actually looking for myself to go down the stairs and ask me what to do? Can I tell you what to do.

The knights who were yelled at were even more stunned, they looked at each other with each other, and finally crept towards the carriage under the leadership of the slightly bolder Sonor.

"Let's see if there's anyone alive inside!" Xannor stooped and struggled to look through the crack in the carriage, while the others searched around cautiously.

A knight leaned over and picked something in the dust, then suddenly lifted something up and shouted, "Lord Duke, look at what I have found!" ”

I took what he had brought up as if it were a treasure and looked at it carefully......

In fact, there is no need to identify it at all, and from the moment I put it in my hand, I silently pronounced its name in my mind:

"Fisherman's Authority!"

The symbol of the authority of the pope, the token that never leaves the body for a moment, the status is almost equivalent to the jade seal of the Chinese emperor, which has transcended the meaning it represents and has become a kind of spiritual symbol.

Because the Pope is regarded as God's walk on earth, the heir of St. Peter, who was only a Galilee fisherman before his conversion to Christ, the ring is known as the Fisherman's Authority, and has a long history as a ring used to seal the Pope's signed documents.

When each pope ascended the throne, he ordered his own ring to be made of pure gold, engraved with a relief of St. Peter fishing in a boat, and the pope's Latin name, thus emphasizing the unique status of the ring.

Playing with the heavy gold ring, I have a plan in my heart.

The authority of the fisherman here can only state one fact.

That is, the Pope himself must be in the carriage, and he is here!

I excitedly put the ring in my arms, stepped step by step over the waste, walked to the side of the collapsed carriage, listened thoughtfully, I don't know if it was in the mood, and suddenly I really heard someone's faint gasping sound.

"Come here, help me move this."

I grasped a beam that, by its shape, was supposed to be the main axle of the carriage, but now it was inserted diagonally into the canopy, turning the carriage beyond recognition.

The heavy axle made the six of us sweat profusely, and I complained about the backwardness of the craftsmanship of medieval Europeans while puffing and reminding everyone to be careful:

"You two hold on to the canopy, don't hit the people inside when you move the axle, that's His Majesty the Pope!"

The enormous task of moving the axles was finally completed, and I felt more and more that the sound of gasping was clear, and the authority of the fisherman in my arms became as heavy as a rock, as if an invisible hand had fallen to my chest, and I took a deep breath and motioned for the knights who had moved the hood to carry it away.

As the lid was removed, the darkness of the carriage shone in little light, and everyone held their breath as they stared at the gradually emerging interior, and I clutched the authority of the fisherman through the chain mail, nervously unaware of the pain caused by the deep pinch of the finger lock.

"Will you be in there? Rebel of Auriillac, His Majesty the Venerable Pope? ”

The first thing that catches your eye is a few documents piled up in the corner, which is obviously caused by the rollover, looking up in the direction of the opening of the car cover, the corners of the blood-stained robe make everyone gasp, but unfortunately it is just a corner torn in a panic, and the gorgeous trim is still shining.

The lid of the car was completely removed, some people screamed, some people retreated in fright, and some people fell to the ground and muttered holy names, but I was the only one who remained in the same position, but my eyes were full of surprise and fear.

In the innermost corner of the carriage, the pale Pope, wrapped in blood-stained robes, was glaring at us with hatred, and viscous blood poured out from under the palm of his hand pressed against the base of his leg, ://bqg3