Anti-theft chapter, which will be replaced tomorrow.

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. Unfortunately, the deceased had no say, and within a few years of his burial he was dug up from the hill renamed the Mountain of Paradise 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 custom of the time, Faith and Law, with a mausoleum in the shape of a corridor, in a semicircular white marble arch is a cicada-like chrysalis chamber with carved saints, angels and flowers, the sarcophagus is mostly empty, but there are also people who have been gloriously sleeping in the same place with St. Francis forever.

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.

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"Lardskin" is a mercenary.

Or, twenty-six years ago, when he was strong, young, and ambitious, and as a Bohemian he was unwilling to tend to the fields or cattle and sheep, and King Hunyadi Matthias I of Hungary was determined to recruit a standing army of mercenaries independent of the great 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 about 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 "Lardskin" came from that time, with a slight sense of irony, "Lardskin" knew that some foolish people thought they were not brave enough, but where were the brave people, it had long been a meal for the wild dogs, and then he was occasionally hired by a bishop, but this adult needed not soldiers but Assassins, and after completing a few tasks, "Lardskin" was surprised to find that the Assassin was the most suitable profession for him- He likes to silently put the rope around the neck of his prey, grasp the wooden ball, and look down to listen to the last hiss from between his teeth—as he works, he clings to the victim's body, feeling the last powerful but futile struggle, as if he can taste and draw precious vitality from their body. 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.

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Joshua was cold, and the cold seemed to be particularly strong tonight, and the cold was like an awl to 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 fountain— The moment he entered the mausoleum, the oncoming darkness made the child shudder, and he walked down, the notch of the staircase cut his toes, but he still walked down unconsciously, the lantern could only illuminate less than a foot beside him, as if he was 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 have come on orders from your lordship. "Lardskin" said, lifting the tunic so that the child could see the coat of arms drawn on the long undergarment: "I have come to visit you on his behalf, and on your mother's behalf." ”

"What happened to Joao?"

"Are you talking about my ex?" said Lardskin, "he broke his leg, and his name is not Joao, his name is Bart." ”

Joshua's eyes were a little less nervous, "How's it going?"

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

Joshua was a little reluctant to describe "lard," but his father's longing soon led him to put the little thing aside: "Did you have a letter to me?"

"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 unique seal of fire on the crevices of the curled parchment, 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," and 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 have said to the Lord, 'You are my Lord, and my good is not outside thee.

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.

The land that was given to me by the rope is located in a good place, and 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 coherently, and it was ironically not for praise or repentance, but for judging how long it would be before the work at hand was finished— 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 a full chest four times, a strong man to strangle five times, and an old man to six or seven times, although they are old and have a weak breath, they need less air than young people.

"I have set the Lord before me always, because he is at my right hand, so that I will not be moved.

Therefore my heart rejoices, my spirit rejoices, and my flesh dwells 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.

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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 walk 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 glow at his side.

He stood for probably a hundred years—at least that's what the boy and boy thought—before he left as silently 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 cried in a low voice, the Borgia family also had Assassins, and he had seen executions with his own eyes, both men and women, and an adult who had been strangled by a silk rope for so long would inevitably die, not to mention that Joshua was only a child.

"Help me!!" said Giulio, panting, only six years old, and though he was in good health, the lid of the coffin had risen above his head, and he could not use his strength even if he stood on his tiptoes.

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 made Caesar even more stunned, and Giulio of the Medici 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 a little light!" Giulio ordered urgently.

Caesar paused, but ran over to light the candle, he brought the candle to the sarcophagus, and saw that Julio had lifted Joshua's mask, although he knew that the reason why Joshua had been hiding his face with a linen mask was because of his great flaws, but it was the first time that Caesar had seen his face so clearly—what a terrible face, if it had been painted on a fresco, or presented 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 a cluster of tumors, perhaps because of the warmth and humidity of the place, and the frequent friction between them, where the tumors were not so much tumors as fat growths, and in the flickering candlelight, it was clear that there was a deep and hideous wound there, and blood was pouring from it, but it was because of the marks left by the devil's kiss, so that the silk rope did not completely cut off Joshua's breath as the mercenary had hoped - Giulio was not sure if Joshua really had a chance to be saved, but he was not until he became Giulio di Giuliano de' 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 before he could do anything, he heard a long sniffle—close and far away, and Caesar Borgia would never admit that he had been frightened by the cold of his hands and feet—but he realized that it was a living man who was struggling to breathe, and that his badly wounded throat did make such a sound.