It was almost dusk, the scorching sun hanging in the sky was exhausted, and the huge and towering city walls, groups of soldiers carried torches to patrol the city walls. They had new red armor, slender Franconian swords at their waists, and bright blue tail feathers trailing behind their heads.

However, it is in stark contrast to their brand new armor.

Each of them frowned, and some even covered their noses. Resists the smell of the air.

The source of the smell is self-evident.

On the city wall, every hundred paces, hung a black iron cage, full of spikes, the spikes were stained ochre brown with dried blood, and in each iron cage, a naked male and female corpse was curled up.

They interpret themselves in a cage the size of an inch, dried up by the scorching sun, with bare gums, eyes pecked by crows, and their bodies rotten.

The pastors of the church, dragging their long priestly robes, followed the soldiers with torches, their faces covered with white cloths, their mouths chanting, and every time they passed an iron cage, they would sprinkle a few drops of water on the corpses in the cage, hoping to cleanse their sinful souls.

The very end of the line.

Father Marsk's gaze was withdrawn from the cage above his head, he was pale, tall, lanky, dressed in red monastic robes, and there was not much emotion in his eyes.

These were the sorcerers and witches he had put to death these days, and in Marsk's eyes, they were all murderous and brutal, murderous and arsonous thieves. They were in cahoots with werewolves and ghouls, abducting virgins in the dark of night, sipping blood from polished silver cups, and dying.

945—

Iberian Peninsula –

Aragon-Golagosa.

It was the time when the Catholic Church was at its height.

A rush of footsteps broke the routine on the ramparts, the soldiers with crosses and shields stopped, and the priests stopped chanting.

Father Marsk turned his head to see another group of soldiers hurrying from the streets of the city to the walls, dressed in very different clothes from those on the walls, each wearing a cylindrical helmet and a cross sword pinned to his waist. Behind it is an iron shield with a thick two-headed eagle and a red cross depicted on it. It looks unusual.

He was a soldier of the Inquisition and a subordinate of Marsk.

The soldiers of the Inquisition escorted a man up to the city wall, and the man was only one person, but he was densely tied into rice dumplings by the soldiers, and several thick ropes were stuffed into his waist, legs, arms, and even his mouth.

The soldiers on the city wall surrounded each other, and some people looked unbearable.

"Father Marsk!"

The cross-bearing soldier shouted, "We've caught another wizard!"

Sorcerer...

Sorcerer!

Father Marsk's nose widened suddenly, and he became as excited as a bloodhound, and he took out from his chest a copy of the Bible with a black cover, with which he was forever invincible.

He parted the crowd and walked out, and the soldier jerked open the thick knot in the man's mouth.

"I'm not a wizard, I'm not a wizard... Let go of me!"

The man looked at the man hanging from his head in the iron cage in horror, and his expression was almost crying: "Something must be wrong, I'm not... I'm not, I'm a devout believer, and God can testify for me. ”

"Of course I will let God testify for you. ”

The head priest shrugged his shoulders expressionlessly, "But before you do that, you have to prove your purity. ”

As he spoke, he opened the Bible and flipped to the Gospel of Matthew, reading: "There is nothing that is concealed that is not revealed, and there is nothing that is hidden that is not known." The affairs of two people are not secret, and the affairs of one person are really known to God!!"—Snap! He closed the page again and said to the soldiers on the side, "Do it!"

The soldier skillfully stepped forward, drew the long sword at his waist, and made a gesture of stabbing.

"Ahh

The bound man let out a frightened scream, his body shrank rapidly, the rope that bound him was quickly loosened, and the man turned into a spotted cat and tried to escape.

The priest snorted and took a step back, and the soldier drew his spear and stabbed it one after another, and soon the spotted cat was fixed to the ground, writhing constantly.

The setting sun disappears into the plain.

Moonlight takes over the earth.

The priest walked up to the spotted cat with resolute steps and asked in extreme disgust, "Blasphemous, who taught you Transfiguration?"

The spotted cat twisted and turned back into a human, one of his legs was stabbed off by a spear, and he was bleeding profusely, unable to move, and could only look at the soldiers who surrounded him, his expression frightened, and he could not say a word.

"Speak up to your teacher, and maybe you'll suffer less. ”

The priest took a torch from the soldier next to him, crouched down, and brought it to the one-legged wizard's forehead, scorching his hair.

"If you don't, be careful that I hang you at the stake and burn you slowly. ”

The one-legged wizard struggled to writhe, trying to get away from the hot torch, but the priest pressed the torch against his forehead, and he finally screamed.

"I said... I say, I say!"

The priest smiled and put away his torches.

But at this moment, the sound of horses' hooves could be heard in the distant plain.

The priest turned his head and saw a column of cavalry running from a distance, stopping at the gate of the wall, numbering about a hundred people, their armor glistening in the moonlight, and the riders holding banners with fluttering carnations.

At the head of the group was a tall man, about thirty-nine years old, with gray hair, sunken eye sockets that had been weathered, and several scars on his face. He was covered in light armor, covered in a plain black and white robe, and had a cross on his chest.

???? The man's gaze was a little dazed, his focus did not stay on the soldiers waiting at the city wall, he looked at the slowly opening gate, his eyes were full of anxiety and impatience.

The priest knew him.

It was the Count of Aragon, Ramiro.

The illegitimate son of King Sancho III of Navarre.

A man who is not blessed by the gods, and according to legend his mother was just a prostitute in Navarre, the offspring of a drunken King Sancho III who was taken into the woods and had fun while having fun.

In Navarre, where Catholicism is founded, this kind of thing is a great shame even for the royal family. As an illegitimate child, he naturally does not deserve to bear the royal family name and even appear in public.

I don't know what kind of ecstasy soup the great Sancho III was poured into, and when the illegitimate son came of age, he handed over the most important northeastern plain of the kingdom to Aragon, and he managed it.

Seeing the man on horseback outside the city wall, the people on the city wall showed a completely different expression, and the church soldier carrying the cross showed contempt. They were not employed by the royal family, but only served the church, and naturally despised illegitimate children, even the illegitimate children of the king.

On the other side, the soldiers of the Sheriff's Office had a respectful look on their faces.

The Count of Miraro, who had been in office for fifteen years, had worked hard to make good things, to give little money, to encourage production and procreation, and that he had no bad habits, and that there was basically no better ruler in this land of chaos.

The gates opened.

The bastard count strode up to the city walls.

The priest held up his finger and signaled his men to calm down.

When he approached.

The cross-bearing soldier and his guards all knelt on one knee, whether they were waiting to see the king's illegitimate son or not, but he was the de facto ruler of Aragon.

"Why are you back so early?"

Father Marsk looked at the count's plain robes with a cloudy expression.

A month earlier, Count Miraro, the administrator of Aragon, had been summoned by the king to Pamplona, the capital of the kingdom of Navarre, to find out what had happened. The original plan was to come back in two months, but I never thought about it, and I only went for a month and came back. One month... He didn't even seriously search for many wizards in Aragon.

"The king is dead. ”

Count Miraro replied to the priest briefly, and then turned his gaze to the one-legged man who had fallen to the ground.

"What happened?"

He asked the head of the sheriff's office.

"We've caught a wizard, my lord. ”

The head of the sheriff's office replied.

"I'm not! I'm not!"

The one-legged man rolled forward and rushed forward, hugging the man's thigh, "I'm not... Honorable sir, I'm not..."

He was quickly dragged back by the hordes of soldiers and pressed to the ground.

"Wizard?"

The Earl's somewhat sloppy eyes gradually became fierce.

In this land, theft, looting, rape, and even murder can be sin without death, with the exception of blasphemy.

In the definition of the Church, all human beings with extraordinary and unknowable powers are the embodiment of the demons of hell, and existence is the most evil. The most important thing is that the strength and doctrine of this group of people are contrary to the orthodox doctrine recognized by the Church, or challenge the authority of the Church. If it is found or confirmed, it is to be put to death immediately.

He then asked, "Is there any evidence?"

"This man has just turned into a cat, and we all saw it. ”

The soldier replied in a rambling manner: "Yes, a very dangerous shapeshifter, we suspect that he is closely related to the disappearance of the baby three months ago....."

Count Miraro said no more, he slowly drew his long sword from his waist, came to the subdued man, and said in a deep voice: "Just seven days ago, the great Sancho III, the holy king of Navarre, and my father, returned to heaven with glory, and before he died, he entrusted this land to me to manage.

In the glory of God, I, Ramiro I, will not allow the blood of any heresy to flow here, all blasphemous witchcraft will be destroyed, all evil rituals will be forbidden, and all heresies will be purified after all—Amen. ”

With that, he tapped three times on his head and three times on his shoulder.

"Amen. ”

The pastors behind him prayed in unison under the torches.

Count Miraro raised his sword, and the one-legged man's terrified gaze was fixed on the flames of the torches.

Ramiro I, the new to the throne, stabbed his sword down.

Accompanied by a scream.

The crow flapped its wings and flew.

The wizard's head was immediately separated, blood gushing from his severed neck. The headless body twitched a few times on the ramparts, and then gradually stopped moving.

After the execution of the prisoner with a solemn expression, the newly appointed Ramiro I returned his sword to the sheath, and he turned to look at the surrendering people behind him, his face expressionless.

Several soldiers from the Sheriff's Department stepped forward and carried the body away.

His staff immediately took a scroll from his chest, stepped forward, and read the edict of King Sancho III in front of a line of soldiers and priests under torches, and simply read out the exact date of his coronation.

However, after reading it, the atmosphere on the city walls was not much more harmonious. Under the flickering torches, the slaughter is still the same.

Father Marsk stepped forward, clicked a trinity on his body, and said coldly: "Lord Earl, that wizard must have other accomplices just now, and you killed him like this?"

The soldiers with crosses and shields behind him stepped forward in unison.

Ramiro I looked tired, and he sighed: "The king has just died, and when I finish my internal affairs, Marsk, I will issue you an arrest warrant for the whole territory and help you thoroughly investigate all the wizards in Aragon." ”

Arrest warrant for the whole territory!

Marsk's face was much better, he nodded, and bowed slightly to Ramiro: "May God bless you, Lord." I will inform the bishop and ask him to officiate at your coronation at a later date. ”

"Thank you very much. ”

Ramiro bowed slightly and bowed to the priest.

It was only then that Ramiro I relaxed a little.

King Sancho III had just died, and the kingdom was in turmoil, and all four of the king's heirs had been given their own domains, and his legitimacy as an illegitimate child was rarely questioned.

The shrewd Ramiro naturally would not allow his legitimate, older brothers, to covet his territory after inheriting the throne. He did not want Aragonese to fall into power and become a vassal of the Church, and he wanted to prove his dominance and legitimacy to everyone.

There is nothing more important in this land of Europe than having the support of the Church.

Whether it is a king or a lord, whether it is a knight or an ordinary person, they can only think and live within the framework of religion, and they can never go beyond it.

As long as he has the support of the Church, his regime will have legitimacy, and with his ability and skill, he can go on a battle to defeat his pus-filled brothers, and become the ruler of the entire Iberian Peninsula and even the entire European continent, turning the Mediterranean Sea into his inner lake, and becoming a figure like Alexander the Great.

Thinking of the highlights, Ramiro couldn't help but raise the corners of his mouth slightly, revealing a hint of a smile.

However, he had just finished a conversation with the priest.

On the side of the city wall, an old servant in gray clothes crowded up, sweating profusely and panting.

Ramiro I immediately recognized him as the steward of his castle.

The butler ran to Miraro I, and whispered another piece of news in his ear.

And this news made Ramiro I, who had just become the king of Aragon, suddenly change his face and his mood sank to the bottom.

???? The message came from home.

On his way to the funeral of King Sancho III, his wife gave birth to a boy.

But that's not the point, the point is.

His newborn son.

It turned out to be a wizard.