At this moment, in the stands on the right.
The old man wearing a robe and holding a scepter - the Pope. He stood at the highest point of the stands and glanced at the entire square casually, like a lion patrolling his territory, and like an unknown old man watching his children and grandchildren lovingly.
He accepted the baptism of everyone's gaze and stood there in silence for a moment.
"Grant...how are you doing now?"
Suddenly, he turned around and asked softly to the bishop behind him.
His voice was not majestic and solemn, but had a distant yet friendly flavor, like the soft sound made by a piece of rotten wood quietly breaking into pieces.
Behind him, the bishop stepped forward and replied expressionlessly: "Still the same, refusing to eat anything, and wanting to run away when given the chance."
After hearing this, the Pope smiled and said, "Let him go. I will persuade him after today's execution is over. One day, he will understand the painstaking efforts of us and his mother."
The bishop said nothing more and nodded in agreement.
However, seeing this, the Pope seemed to have thought of something again. He turned around, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes moved slightly, and looked at the bishop behind him.
His eyes were a little subtle, as if he was looking at the bishop - looking at the face that seemed to be sealed with wax, showing no emotion at all.
"These past eight years, you are still the same." He said seemingly casually at a volume that only the two of them could hear, "I thought that after handling church affairs for so long, you could be more humane, but in the end you are still the same. Nothing has changed.”
Hearing this, the bishop raised his head, his eyes filled with deep eye sockets, neither sad nor happy.
"Really... However, after eight years, His Majesty the Pope has changed much more than imagined."
His tone was still indifferent, but the content of his words made the atmosphere tense for a moment.
The smile disappeared from the Pope's face. He lowered his head and was silent for a while before slowly speaking:
"I know that you think what I'm doing these days is too radical, and you think I shouldn't do it. But, can you imagine? How will his followers view the pope who has done nothing for eight years?"
The bishop looked at the pope and said nothing.
Upon seeing this, the Pope's eyes seemed to show some dissatisfaction, but it was quickly covered up.
I saw him caressing the gorgeous scepter in his hand and whispering: "The first generation of popes is pioneering; the second generation of popes is development; the third generation of popes is prosperity; the fourth generation of popes is the peak; the fifth generation of popes is... Consolidate…”
Having said this, he paused deliberately and tightened his grip on the scepter slightly, as if the weight of the scepter became extremely heavy at that moment, so heavy that he had to use all his strength to hold it.
Then, he continued: "If the sixth generation of Pope cannot reach another peak, it will be the beginning of his decline."
After hearing this, the bishop finally sighed.
"None of us expected the unexpected death of His Majesty the fifth generation Pope. You have done the best you can by succeeding the Pope under those circumstances and maintaining the stability of the entire country." He looked at the Pope and said slowly Xu said.
Hearing this, the Pope chuckled lightly, or snorted coldly. It was unclear whether he agreed or objected. He said nothing more, but turned back, stood on the highest point, and faced the entire square again.
When the bishop saw this, he lowered his head and remained silent, saying no more.
As the two of them talked, the time gradually approached noon. In the center of the square, the Paladin had tied "Grant" and another boy to the cross. Several more paladins walked out and began to pile firewood around the cross.
The Pope casually glanced at "Grant" who looked lost, and then looked away without looking further.
Instead, he suddenly raised his eyes and looked at the sky.
There were only a few clouds floating in the blue sky, and the sunlight was shining directly on the ground, which was a bit dazzling.
He frowned slightly, as if thinking about something.
But he didn't think through the outcome.
Not long after, the bishop stepped forward again and interrupted his thoughts.
"Your Majesty, the time has come, let's begin." He said in the Pope's ear.
After hearing this, the Pope came to his senses and nodded.
He glanced down at the square. The area around the cross had been cleared. There was no one else except the two prisoners and a pile of firewood. So, he stretched out his hand, recited some incantation, and a small ball of golden flame took shape in his hand.
He waved his hand gently, and the flame flew out from his palm, like a light feather, slowly drifting towards the cross in the center of the square.
The eyes of everyone present were immediately attracted by the star-like flame.
However, the Pope did not pay attention. After doing all this, he turned around, walked down the stand, and left here, as if he had no interest in what happened next.
The bishop stayed in the stands, watching the pope's leaving figure. Suddenly, he frowned imperceptibly.
Just like that, as soon as the Pope left the stand with his front feet, the golden flame fell on the pile of firewood around the cross.
In an instant, as if a spark fell on the gasoline on the ground, the firewood pile ignited, enveloping the cross and the two people tied to the cross.
The crowd burst into exclamations one after another.
"Okay... so powerful, Brother Parker, is this the Pope's magic?"
At the edge of the square, the knights maintaining order lined up, looking at this scene with shocked expressions. A knight sighed to the previous knight, Parker.
"Yes, divine magic, incredible power." Parker murmured with the burning flames reflected in his eyes, "In this world, the only thing that can compete with magic is divine magic."
"What are you talking about? How can magic compete with divine magic?" Suddenly, another knight said, "It's not like I haven't fought with mages before. How can they stop the Pope's powerful divine magic? "
Hearing this, Parker snorted, shook his head, and said nothing.
Ignorant brat.
Today's knights have never seen what a real mage is like. They think they have defeated a few apprentices, and their noses are turned up to the sky.
Real magic... is beyond their imagination.
Thinking of this, Parker couldn't help but take a deep breath, put some bad memories back into the depths of his memory, and once again turned his attention to the flames rising into the sky in the center of the square.
—and two men in flames.
In his eyes, one of the people tied to the cross had a panicked look and was struggling constantly. However, the other person, that "Grant Reese", still lowered his head at this moment, half-opened his eyes, and remained motionless. He seemed to have lost his soul and was just a puppet that no one controlled.
Parker couldn't help but frowned.
If he had to say that before, this genius seemed dejected because he had lost all hope, then he could understand it. But in such a flame, with his life at stake, he still had no expression at all, which seemed a bit strange.
Even if it was out of instinct, this person would have to show a somewhat uncomfortable expression after being smoked, right
How can anyone be in the fire without any reaction
I don't know why, Parker just stared at him, and suddenly felt a strange feeling in his heart.
Is he... really a real person
Just when he was frowning and puzzled, he suddenly noticed the empty shell of "Grant" in the flames, and his lowered palm moved slightly.
As if being pulled by some strange magic power, at that moment, for some reason, Parker's heart seemed to move.
He suddenly held his breath.
I saw that the young man who had been staring blankly just now raised his head like a doll that was suddenly wound up. His eyes, which were as gray as glass beads, also turned, and were instantly filled with spiritual light. This whole process of transformation was so miraculous, as if God had created a human body, and then, with a gentle tap on his forehead, bestowed upon him a human body. soul.
"Grant" in the flames seemed to come alive at that moment.
Evil, evil...
Parker watched from a distance, suddenly feeling out of breath.
It was obviously just a lost man who raised his head, but in Parker's eyes, he looked extremely shocked.
This man... what on earth is going on with this man
The young man in the flames seemed to have suddenly acquired magnetism. Parker couldn't look away at all, and beads of sweat fell from his forehead. He could only stare at the blond boy with his eyes wide open and his mind going blank.
Then, Parker saw the young man raising his eyes calmly and looking at the sky.
Sky…
In a daze, he also followed the young man's gaze and looked towards the sky.
So, in this "sky" that looked particularly low, he saw his own sweaty, listless and panicked reflection.