It's a warm winter day, the sky is clear, and Christmas is here. Pen "Fun" Pavilion www.biquge.info

Viscount Isaac got up early, and instead of wearing those ornate noble gowns, he turned out a slightly old clerical robe, carefully scrubbed his body with clean water, and then put it on meticulously.

It was the only thing the Bishop had allowed him to take with him when he left the church, and he had kept it in a cupboard with great care, and he would only take it out and wear it every Christmas at the Holy Prayer Assembly.

For only on this day, he was no longer a noble viscount of the French Empire, but a humble servant under the throne of the god of Dokivu.

He dressed himself and walked out of the room, his expression solemn and without a smile.

He asked the butler waiting at the door of the bedroom, "Are you ready for the sacrifice?"

"It's all ready, it's loaded into the car, and it's ready to go. The butler humbly replied.

The housekeeper knew that he could mess up other things, but this was the only one that could not tolerate a single mistake. He got up before dawn and gathered boxes of precious gold, precious stones, pearls, and furs...... All of them were moved to the elaborately decorated and luxurious ceremonial carriages.

These rituals cost almost all of the Isaac's family's income for the year, and they were a gift from Viscount Isaac to the church, to the Lord, representing Viscount Isaac's unparalleled piety.

Viscount Isaac had a gloomy face, and checked the sacrificial car back and forth over and over again, and carefully adjusted the position of several decorations before nodding with satisfaction.

He waved off a few servants who wanted to come up to help, grabbed the handle of the sacrificial cart himself, plucked up his muscles, pushed the heavy sacrificial cart, and walked towards the cathedral in the southeast corner of the city.

When I walked out of the house, I saw that the avenue outside the door had already formed a traffic flow, and countless nobles and pious commoners, all pushing large and small sacrificial carts, facing the morning light, towards the southeast.

As soon as the tall and gorgeous ceremonial car of Viscount Isaac's family appeared, it attracted the attention of everyone around, and everyone was amazed, and consciously gave way to Viscount Isaac's first.

"Ah, Viscount Isaac is still so pious. ”

"It seems that this year Viscount Isaac is the first again. ”

"Needless to say, Viscount Isaac is the most devout believer in our city. ”

"Compared to Viscount Isaac, our rituals are not on the table at all. ”

"I must save more money next year for a more abundant sacrifice for the Lord, like Viscount Isaac. ”

......

Such words refreshed Viscount Isaac's ears more than any panacea, and made his cart move a little brisker.

Today's cathedral is full of traffic and people.

Bishop Martin, dressed in white, was standing at the door of the church, smiling at the rushing traffic, nodding to the devout believers from time to time.

A group of grey or black clergy priests were busy with their feet on the ground: guiding the sacrificial cart to the designated storage area, guiding each believer to find a suitable location, and teaching the new believers the points of attention of the Holy Prayer Assembly......

The appearance of Viscount Isaac attracted everyone's attention, everyone was amazed, and even Bishop Martin cast a friendly look at him.

Viscount Isaac pulled up his tall and ornate ceremonial cart and walked towards Bishop Martin.

Bishop Martin's eyes were full of love and joy, and his voice was warm and powerful: "Ah, it is my little Isaac, and I know that you are the most devout of all believers. ”

Viscount Isaac also looked envious: "My esteemed bishop, your Isaac does not want to be just a believer, I am willing to give up my title and become a servant of the Lord, and contribute my meager strength to my lord." ”

"No, my little Isaac, I grew up watching you, and my heart knows your piety, and so does the Lord. You are now a nobleman, a pious nobleman, and the best contribution to the cause of the Lord is made. You can lead more nobles who have gone astray, and make them come back to the path of piety. This kind of you is indispensable, this is your mission, you know? "Bishop Martin is a good guide.

"Well, I'll do my job. I only wish that after this, when I am old, I can go back to the church, clean the courtyard for the Lord, wipe off the dust, and finally bury myself on the hill next to the church. Viscount Isaac spoke resolutely.

"Yes, my dear child, I grant your wish, and that cemetery will always have a place for you. Bishop Martin promised.

"Thank you, my esteemed bishop, thank you, my great lord!" said Viscount Isaac, kneeling down excitedly, and kissed Bishop Martin's boots frantically.

Everyone next to him envied Viscount Isaac's good fortune, and everyone admired his piety.

Finally, the Holy Prayer Assembly began.

The church is full of devout believers inside and out, but those of high status and devotion are enough, sitting on chairs inside the church, and those of low status and modest piety are standing, or simply standing outside the church.

And Viscount Isaac, without a doubt, sat in the first row of the church, the closest to the Lord Bishop, and the closest to the Valkyrie.

The choir children sang hymns in pure and ethereal voices.

The black-robed priests chanted the scriptures in solemn and solemn voices.

Venerable Bishop Martin stood on the podium, his inner strength stirring, and the warm and powerful liturgical words echoed throughout the church, echoing throughout the church.

"All glory and greatness be to my Lord, all praise and praise to my Lord! Let us shout, let us shout! Exalt the name of Jesus......"

Speaking of the depths of love, the voice is passionate and high-spirited, reaching the sky.

Everyone closed their eyes to Bishop Martin's words, wandering in this sacred and grand artistic conception.

It was Viscount Isaac's happiest time, and he listened to it with such fascination that he forgot about it.

With the last cry of "Amen!"

Bishop Martin stepped down and stroked every intoxicated devout believer with a willow branch, and sprinkled clear dew on them.

Viscount Isaac also felt the fresh willow branches cut across his face, and the cool dew ran down his forehead. He didn't want to open his eyes, and he hoped that such good times would never pass.

Suddenly, he heard a "buzz", followed by Bishop Martin's screams.

Viscount Isaac opened his eyes violently and looked around, and before he could find his target, there was another "buzz, buzz" twice.

He saw Bishop Martin clutching his chest, leaning against the wall, slowly falling, and a dark figure running towards the window.

Viscount Isaac was furious, his eyes split, and he rose from his chair and threw himself straight at the dark shadow.

Along with him, several black-robed priests and surrounding believers pounced.

But the shadow was still a step faster, and he raised the curtain by the window, which was wide and heavy to cover his figure, and then there was the sound of the window being broken.

By the time Viscount Isaac arrived at the window, the man was gone.