Dawn gradually lifted a black veil covering the surface of the earth. The red sun rises slowly from the east, and the warm light shines through the white clouds to the whole land.

The sound of "quack, quack, quack, quack...", echoed through the noisy early morning, and the black crow spread its wings and hovered over the city. Flocks of crows make the people in the city uneasy, and more disgusted. People are not afraid of crows, but of the bad luck that crows bring.

The wide gates under the towering and sturdy walls were closed, and groups of heavily armed soldiers guarded the exits inside the gates. On the battlements stood rows of archers with arrows and bows, and anyone who approached the gate would be mercilessly shot into a hedgehog full of sharp arrows.

Heavenly Father's followers searched every nook and cranny of the city, every house, and they forcibly took away sick men, women, and children. They claim that these people are the source of the plague spread by demonic possession.

Whether it was aristocrats, freemen, peasants, old people, children, women, all sick people, whatever their ailments, would be caught by these crazy believers, hung with thick ropes, and then burned their bodies with fire. Those who are terminally ill will be burned down directly by people and their houses. People are afraid to touch the inhuman-like bodies that have been devoured by the disease, they are afraid that they will be infected, that they will be the next to be burned to death.

The streets and alleys of Rocky Harbor City are filled with the sound of people chasing each other, the sound of mad judgment, the cries of pain, and the sound of bitter pleading......

"Catch him, don't let him run,"

"Please, I'm just sick and not infected with the plague," the old man's begging voice sounded in a certain house.

"Burn him, burn this demon. "It's the shouts of crazy believers.

"I'm not a demon, don't catch me. Panicked arguments.

"Please, spare my child. ”

......

Brandt Tyrell stood atop the castle's tower as Count, looking down at the almost crazy scene unfolding in the harbor city beneath his feet. He didn't know if he was right or wrong to do this, and he wavered when he heard the cries and pleadings coming from the people, he regretted and blamed himself for his decision, and he wanted to stop it......

The emaciated old man standing aside with a wooden staff stared at the adult in front of him, and he noticed the other party's painful look. "Lord Tyrrell," the old man said in a gentle voice, "you are saving the city, and your subjects from fire and water. You don't have to blame yourself, people don't hate you, they just remember that you brought hope to the city. ”

In a very soft, but audible voice, Brandt asked, "Am I really doing the right thing?" but he had another answer in his mind.

"It's the only way, you don't have a choice. Bishop Griffin Genos replied. The old man was dressed in a fuchsia robe, and the wooden staff in his hand was all white.

Brandt whispered to himself, "But I regret it a little, I'm afraid it's the wrong decision." He spoke what was in his heart.

"No matter what you choose, as long as it is your own choice, there is no regret about right or wrong. The old man's gaze became gentler when he looked at him. He could feel that the Earl of Rocky Harbor, standing in front of him, was nothing more than a simple and kind child. He didn't want to hurt anyone, but it wasn't possible.

"I don't dare to face the people who have suffered because of me," Brandt's lips trembled, "many of them are innocent, the old men, the children—" His words choked at this, and he could no longer speak.

In this world of betrayal and strife, and too much kindness and forgiveness will only bring more trouble to oneself, such a person cannot become a true ruler. Bishop Griffin Genos shook his head slowly, and said calmly, "Don't be afraid to do something wrong, even if you are wrong, don't be upset, life is right and wrong, not to mention that there are many things, and in retrospect, right and wrong no longer matter." ”

Brandt was lost in thought, half-speechless. He told himself that I am Count Tyrrell, ruler of Rocky Harbor, and a member of the House of Islam, and that I must be brave and face this qiē calmly.

After a brief moment of silence, the Bishop spoke again with a solemn face, "Whether it's right or wrong, you need a code of conduct, and you should follow this code of conduct. It was also his last proverb to the young and kind earl in front of him.

"Thank you, Bishop Griffin, for your teaching," Brandt calmed down, "and thank you for your forgiveness for not accusing me of impersonating a Father saint." He found himself always hesitating and regretting his decisions, and this was a sign of weakness. He didn't want to be a weak and cowardly person, he vowed to be a brave man.

"Your Excellency," replied the Bishop in a deeper voice, unchanged, "that you are a saint of the Father, and that is the will of the Father. His tone was irrefutable. People wrapped in fear and despair need faith, and all he can do is stand firm in their faith. Even if it deceives people's beliefs, he thinks it's a white lie.

Flocks of crows circled around the towering tower, like the bricks on the tower, unable to dispel the misfortune despite the scorching heat of the sun hanging high in the sky.

The mad believers snatch every body they think is possessed by demons, all their friends, relatives, brothers, parents, and children who cause them fear and sickness, and no matter how much they pray or struggle, they cannot escape the fate of being burned to death.

The archers on the walls shot at the fallen men, girls, old men, and mothers with their babies in their arms, and they could not change their fate.

Smoke rises on the beach near the sea, and people burn corpses to purge the plague, accompanied by the prayers of Christians. On the opposite side of the sea are unmanned ships, including brigs, flat-bottomed merchant ships, oars, three-masted galleons, etc., which are like ghostly ships that wander in the wind with the waves of the sea.

Small rowing boats rowed towards the boats on the sea, and the people were going to burn them all, and although some of the big ships were valuable, and the holds of the boats might still contain many precious items, they had no thought at the moment, they only wanted to remove all possible sources of disease.

As the minutes passed, the morning sun turned into the sunset, and the white clouds floating in the sky were also dyed with black paint, and a few bits of light shone on the dim sky.

"My lord, it's over. Sir Witton appeared in the Tower.

"Bishop Griffin," said Brandt, in a sincere tone, "the rest is up to you. "Hopefully this plague is really over.

"Mistress Tyrrell, rest assured, I will do what I can. The old man's tone was calm and firm.

Bishop Griffin Genos hobbled up to the top of the tower with a wooden staff. The fuchsia robe was whizzing with the cold wind blowing from the sea, and his emaciated cheeks wrinkled. The old man raised his white staff and chanted in a loud voice, "Blessed Father, grant blessed spells to devout believers to remove pain and calamity, and Loving Father, I pray that you will illuminate the darkness of the world, cast away the demons of the world, and save those who are afflicted by the plague." Thank you, Heavenly Father!"

Suddenly, an incredible scene appeared, only to see the wooden staff in the old man's hand turn into a shining white light shining out, and the dazzling light kept spreading in all directions until it completely enveloped the entire city. In an instant, the light turned into countless shining grains of powder and slowly fell to the ground.

People began to look up at the sky, closed their eyes, put their hands together on their foreheads, and whispered prayers. They have done so many terrible, hateful things to live, and they are praying for peace from their Heavenly Father, but they are also praying for forgiveness from their family and friends.

Brandt also prayed for a complete end to this catastrophe, for forgiveness for those who had lost their lives because of him, for the safety of all those he cared for.

When the light that shone on the harbor city had completely faded, Brant climbed to the top of the tower, where he found Bishop Griffin lying quietly, his emaciated face pale and bloodless. He was no longer breathing, his heart had stopped beating, and this blessing spell had exhausted the last wisps of the old man's life.

Brandt knelt on one knee, reached out and dragged the old man's emaciated body, then gently picked him up and slowly walked down to the top of the tower. Brandt didn't think it would cost him his life, and his heart was full of regret and self-blame. It was he who begged the bishop to bless the people, and it was he who took the life of the old man in his arms.

Brandt held back his tears and didn't let it stay, he told himself not to cry, crying would not change anything, the world has never been gentle to anyone.

Sir Witton stood in the tower without saying a word, and the news of the death of Bishop Griffin would soon reach the Temple. The new bishop of the church will be succeeded by the vicar.