The deep night sky was like an iron curtain, completely enveloping this city of faith, and the heavy sound of thunder came from the distance of the iron curtain, getting closer and closer as time went by, until it jumped out of the darkness.
It was a pitch-black horse, spewing white mist in the cold night, wearing exquisite iron armor and shining with moonlight, like a meteor running in the darkness, so as to distinguish it from the darkness.
It rushed forward all the way and finally arrived at the center of the city. The twisted jungle in the field of vision continued to expand. When it got closer, it was discovered that it was a row of upright lances. The knights were guarding the sacred stairs like an iron wall. No words were needed. The war horses slowly stopped, and the magnificence and sacredness behind the stairs were reflected in the animals' eyes.
The priest jumped off his horse, his cheeks were hard, like sculpted marble, with the vicissitudes and determination unique to middle-aged people. He did not act in a hurry, but took the musket and sword from the saddle bag. Normally, weapons were forbidden to approach here, but he had the privilege to insert them into his black cassock. Spots of wind and snow stained the black color, as if he had just come out of the snow curtain.
The mottled iron cross on his chest swayed in the wind, making a sound like a silver bell.
"Are you okay? This place is really getting colder."
With the arrival of the priest, a knight walked out of the ranks. On his helmet was a brass cross sword. The sword was engraved with holy words, which nailed the twisted monster to death with a sacred and murderous intention.
This is a group of Templar Knights who took over the defense of St. Naro's Cathedral after the Night of the Coming. Under the knight swords on their waists are modern, sophisticated muskets that can penetrate armor at close range.
They seemed to be old acquaintances, and after procedurally checking the priest's identity, the knight began to talk to him casually.
"Not bad. After all, I work for the Pope, so I get the highest pay. Even those bigwigs bow to me... And it's already snowing in Florence, so it should spread here soon. I hope you've kept warm under your armor, Charles."
The priest spoke slowly and lit a cigarette. The faint light illuminated his cheek, extending along the scar at the corner of his mouth and spreading to the back of his neck. It was a fatal scar. It was hard to imagine what the priest had experienced, and it was also hard to imagine what kind of persistence allowed him to survive.
"Oh, they are not in awe of you, Anthony, they are in awe of the Pope you represent."
Charles teased, wearing a heavy helmet that shadowed most of his face.
Although he was teasing the priest, Charles said it with awe in his heart.
This is the place of Seven Hills. No one will not feel awe when mentioning it here, just like closing one's eyes involuntarily when seeing the scorching sun.
He was a pope as brilliant as the day. He turned the tide in the aftermath of the Night of the Holy Visitation and brought the entire Evangelical Church back on track. Some people wanted to secretly control this unstable pope, but they were all eliminated by him with thundering means. The entire Templar Knights followed his orders and purged all enemies overnight. Those who violated the orders were nailed to the cross on trumped-up charges. He held both theocracy and political power firmly in his hands.