When many people came to Lambas again, the atmosphere was obviously different.
Although Bishop Becky, a clergyman with the identity of an angel, was not around, the people seemed to be able to recognize many of them easily. Some of them even chanted the title of 'Saint' and directly knelt on the ground devoutly.
Needless to say, this was the effect of Bishop Becky becoming the Patriarch.
The original Empire of Saint Reims did not have a very large church or a deeply rooted parish. The appearance of the angel Becky had lit up a beam of light for the people. Because of many … or rather Flora's full support for the Church of Light, the Saint Sophia Cathedral in Oditore had become the "Ciaran" of the Empire of Saint Reims. Because that area was where Bishop Becky lived and preached, it had become a supreme existence equal to the Holy Land of Ciaran!
To receive the teachings of an angel!
This was not something that ordinary people could imagine. However, this kind of fantasy had indeed become a reality. There were all kinds of news, such as Bishop Becky's holy light appearing and curing all the blind people in a city, or a casual wave of her hand, and all the lame people in Oditore could throw away their crutches. Although it was exaggerated, it was a unique style of information dissemination in this era.
Many of them could only nod and smile at the people who were kneeling in front of them because they knew that it wasn't a good thing. It wouldn't be a big deal if they were in Oditore, but this was the Pope's territory after all. Even though religion shouldn't be involved in worldly political issues, benefits would always be an obstacle that humans couldn't get rid of.
"Refusing to meet?"
Many people raised their eyebrows and looked at the man in a pure robe who looked like a monk at the entrance of the Holy Land of Ciaran. After thinking for a while, he nodded and turned around to leave.
"Sorry for the disturbance."
He did not stay for a second longer and left this seemingly pure and flawless area.
The Pope did not give him face because many people did not give him face.
This was the most basic rule of reciprocity. Perhaps the pope, as the highest representative of the Divine Right, did not give face to the old man. In fact, many people naturally understood that the fundamental meaning of the old man did not lie in the so-called "face".
In this world, life should be precious. The important thing was the upcoming war.
Madam Vasaki did not have much of a favorable impression of the pope and only retained the minimum level of respect for him. The same went for Pandora. The two women, who were probably ten times older than the pope, had no interest in the so-called struggle for power. It was only because they had walked that path many years ago.
The Wall of Solamea was still standing tall in the haze. The Troll army that had stopped here didn't do much. When Elder Sandinaran turned around in boredom and saw many people walking towards the hall in the town behind the wall, she didn't seem to have any extra expressions on her face.
"To be honest, this weather is making me moldy."
Elder Sandinalan was playing with a set of tarot cards alone. This ancient game was almost extinct in the world now. There were a total of seventy-eight tarot cards, which seemed to symbolize the constellations in the sky or something else. She didn't know much about it, but seeing this reminded her of Oditore's astrologer, Lanny.
She gently dealt the cards and read the card array in front of her according to an ancient rule as if there was no one else around. She looked at it silently for a few times and put it away.
"The war is coming."
She didn't care about what Many was thinking about. She just said this sentence in the Elven language with a blank look in her eyes.
"Is there any movement in front?"
Madam Vasaki asked worriedly. She casually picked up a hard card. It was said to be a card, but the material was closer to a strange metal. There was a thin layer of animal skin with magical waves on it. There was a picture that was unusually complete and clear —
A burning Holy Grail.
"Your old acquaintance is here. The three monarchs of the Abyss Continent seem to have arrived all at once."
Sandinalan's words seemed to have caused the surrounding temperature to drop by a few degrees. Many sighed softly and didn't say anything else. She reached out her hand and rubbed her cheeks. She looked rather tired and said, "Should I go and greet them?"
"Greet them for what?
Give us to Carter to ask for a truce?
Or do you want to go fight Sakamento for three hundred rounds to satisfy him? "
Pandora sat on the sofa and crossed her legs. She leaned her body slightly against Madam Vasaki. "Every monarch is a freak. When you think you understand them, you will realize that they have hidden themselves deeper than anyone else."
"For example … the master of the Eastern Continent?"
This was the first time that Many led the conversation in this direction. His eyes were slightly trembling. That was because his mind was constantly resisting, as if these things were making him unable to control his emotions.
Nairíos seemed to be very resistant to this topic.
"His appearance often means the beginning of a real catastrophe."
Pandora reached out and gently stroked the table in front of her, and a map-like pattern abruptly appeared on the bluestone table. Many frowned as they could tell that it was the outline of the Abyssal Continent, but the continent was not divided into three parts. Instead, it was a huge body, although the edges were very similar to the Abyssal Continent in many's impression.
"Once, this world was similar to Roslorian, until one day …" There seemed to be a low mist on the table that formed an ocean surrounding the continent. Along with her words, the entire continent suddenly began to split into three almost independent pieces. "Seawater" filled the gap in the center, and then the three continents became independent.
"Why?"
Many of them frowned, and their bodies trembled slightly.
"Because of him, of course."
Pandora reached out her hand and gently knocked on the position of the Eastern Continent. "The supreme, respected, and invincible … Cridill."
Cridill …
This name was like the last straw that broke the camel's back. Many of them who had been tense all this while suddenly lost control of their emotions.
The voices around them suddenly disappeared. Many of them saw an unforgettable figure in their minds — Nairíos, the Dragon Territory, and the dark figure on the Dragon's Ridge.
Cridill … Black Dragon — The former patriarch.
Nairíos's father.
…
"Whoosh!"
It was as though the world had suddenly darkened. When they opened their eyes again, they saw that they were no longer in the hall.
"Don't you feel a little angry that you only found out the truth today?"
Nairíos casually sat on an ordinary stone stool. He squinted his eyes and felt that the scene was very familiar. When he looked around, he suddenly realized that he was in a region that did not belong to Roslorian at all.
The familiar courtyard, three-storey residential building, old grape trellises and covered with grapevines, the summer sun, and even the chirping of cicadas … This was not Roslorian at all, but the inconspicuous residential building that he lived in when he was young.
The road beside him was dilapidated and emitted the smell of the last century. The air seemed to be filled with the choking smell of diesel from a tractor that had just passed by.
"This … This …"
Many people were dumbfounded, completely dumbfounded.