On this day, the Sanctuary was densely packed, and the locust-like refugees hid weakly in the rooms arranged by the Holy Church. A few days ago, there were some people who had the energy to watch the excitement, but they didn't even have the strength to move. At this time, they are not so much alive as they are waiting to die, and despite the assurances of the Patriarch of Lisbon before, even the most optimistic refugees are now gradually giving up hope.

In the past few days, some people have been unable to survive and have starved to death. The corpse was dragged out by the cathars and disposed of, and it is unknown where it was buried.

Suddenly, many people heard a rumbling sound outside, like thunder. Someone lazily craned his neck and looked at the gloomy sky outside the house, wondering why it had begun to thunder in the daytime, even though it had been snowing for the past few days?

This damn winter rain is a little bit, I don't know how many people will die.

But suddenly, I heard many men shouting roughly, "Come out, everyone, the food has arrived, the food has arrived!"

"Got food?", many of the refugees, who were already dying and their eyes were almost halfway closed, jumped up from the ground and poured out of the ground, if it were not for the foresight of the Bishop of Lisbon and the sending of many soldiers of the cathar army to maintain the order, a stampede would have been inevitable.

In the sight of the refugees, there was a thin line like a long dragon in the distance, braving the wind and snow to advance in the pilgrimage area. Slowly, the thin lines became thicker and thicker, and finally what came into people's eyes was a long line of convoys, like a sword!

When the convoy had not yet arrived. The refugees were already cheering, people were laughing, crying, shouting, and they didn't know what they were talking about, many strange refugees hugged each other, or buried their heads in pain, and many men wiped their eyes with their tattered sleeves, but found that the tears could not be wiped dry, no matter how they wiped them.

Although their relatives have all passed away, although they are alone in this world in the future, they are alone, and although they have been frightened and starved for so many days, they still survive.

Only by surviving can there be hope, can we do what we want to do, and can we avenge what we want to avenge.

Once a person dies, there is nothing left, whether it is love or hatred, ideals and beliefs, desires and desires, all disappear and cease to exist.

Only by being alive is it true.

As the convoy got closer and closer to the refugees, a man stood up in the carriage at the head and waved to the refugees. Although it was still far away and he couldn't see it clearly, the crown he wore on his head shone brightly in the light.

"It's His Majesty the Pope, it's His Majesty the Pope! I recognize it!", one refugee shouted.

"That's right, it's His Majesty the Pope. The Patriarch of Lisbon also walked into the crowd and preached loudly: "This batch of grain was specially rushed to the north by His Majesty the Pope, and after purchasing transportation from the dwarves, he personally supervised the transportation to the holy area!"

I don't know what method he used, but the voice traveled far away, and hundreds of thousands of refugees could hear it clearly.

As soon as he finished speaking, and he didn't know who started among the refugees, someone shouted: "Long live the Pope!" and as this shout grew, more and more refugees shouted: "Long live the Pope!"

When the convoy stopped, the men on the convoy worked together to move the food down for generations, and if it weren't for the cathars to maintain order, the refugees would have to go crazy and grab it.

From time to time, priests unleashed a magic spell in the crowd to calm the mood of the refugees, and they shouted: "Wait a minute, don't worry." The food has already arrived, and I have survived so many days, so I am not in a hurry for this little time. The grain that was brought in was all raw, and it was cooked into gruel for everyone, and everyone had a share, and no one would be missing. ”

A large cauldron was propped up, and the rice and wheat with white flowers were stared at by everyone with red eyes, and poured into boiling water. In just a few moments, the air was filled with the peculiar aroma of grain, and many people kept swallowing their saliva, their eyes red like wolves.

When the porridge was almost cooked, some cathar soldiers scooped it into bowls and distributed it to the refugees. Eat slowly, if you don't eat enough, don't eat too much, it will break your stomach. ”

The refugees ate and shed tears again, and many of them devoured them, knelt down and kowtowed to His Majesty the Pope and the Patriarch of Lisbon, saying: "If it weren't for the Holy Religion, we would really die." In the future, our life will be that of the Holy Sect, and if you give us an order, it will be okay to go to the soup and the fire. ”

There are more and more people kneeling, not kneeling out of fear in the face of the king, nor kneeling down because of status in the face of nobles, not even kneeling and begging because of money.

The Pope and the Patriarch of Lisbon hurriedly commanded the soldiers to lift the refugees up, "There is no need to go to the soup and the fire, I just hope that you can always follow the guidance of the Father, maintain the fear of the Father, obey the holy scriptures, and obey the precepts." If you do so, you will be blessed in the future, and you will be able to ascend to the Temple Mount after a peaceful sleep, and you will be able to enjoy eternal peace. ”

Some of them, when they had eaten and drunk, became curious about the convoy of grain. They did not find the grain at first, but now they all saw that the horses carrying the grain were not live horses at all, but were made of iron!

By word of mouth, the refugees were curious and crowded over to watch.

"Hey, how is this horse made of iron? I've never seen it in most of my life!"

"This iron is made of iron, how does it move? No way, this horse is a living thing, this iron is a dead thing. ”

"That's it, that's it, this horse can run when it eats grass, what does this iron eat?"

Some refugees thought it was a miracle and knelt down to worship the iron horses. His Majesty the Pope, who was approachable, explained to the refugees: "The name of this iron horse is the Wooden Ox Flowing Horse, but it is not the creation of our human beings, but the dwarves of the north. ”

Everyone suddenly realized: "It turned out to be made by a dwarf, no wonder I have never seen it." ”

Some people were even more curious, "This horse is obviously made of iron, why is it called the name Wooden Ox Flowing Horse?"