"Your Majesty, this is the report we got after our investigation. There are indeed some abnormalities in the villages that were attacked. The attitude of the villagers is different, and they may have been attacked by demons."
About a month later at night, in St. Peter's Basilica, a paladin hurriedly walked into the hall, knelt down on one knee, and said this to the bishop on the stage.
The bishop was flipping through a Bible on the stage. Hearing this, he raised his head casually.
"Deploy more manpower to strictly control speech in the village, and at the same time strengthen vigilance in other villages." He said softly, "A small sign will not have much impact, so just eliminate it."
The paladin nodded, hesitated for a while, and asked angrily: "Then... regarding that mage, should we just let him make trouble in God's territory?"
"Don't worry, God has plans."
"But… "
"Shhh."
The paladin seemed unwilling to give in, but the bishop suddenly interrupted him with a silent gesture. The paladin was stunned at that time, watching the bishop carefully, as if he felt... the bishop was different from usual
I saw the bishop slowly walking down from the stage, coming to the door, looking at the corridor outside the hall, his eyes slowly turning in his sunken eye sockets.
Outside the hall, the dark night sky was starless and moonless, as quiet as the bottom of a lake in late winter.
"Your Majesty Bishop, how..."
"Hush." The bishop interrupted him again, and some color seemed to flash in his stagnant pupils, "Do you feel that the church is particularly quiet tonight."
The Paladin felt even weirder.
I don’t know why, but the bishop in front of me seems... a little excited.
As soon as the word came out of his heart, the paladin felt like he was going crazy. excited? How can it be? The bishop will not have any emotional fluctuations about anything. He is like a spokesperson sent by God. He always speaks only for God, without any subjective emotions of his own, and his whole body is full of divinity.
Because of this, when certain emotions suddenly seemed to flash in the bishop's eyes, the paladin's goosebumps rose, and he felt like he was frightened.
What, what happened
"Your Majesty Bishop..."
"You have nothing to do here, go back." A voice interrupted the paladin again, but this time, it was no longer the bishop standing at the door of the hall who spoke.
The paladin turned around in shock.
"G-Master Grant..."
The door of the confessional was pushed open at some point, and Grant slowly walked out of it wearing a pure white robe. He stopped in the middle of the red carpet in the hall, with his hands folded, his expression calm, solemn and even a little tired.
At that moment, the Paladin suddenly thought of some of the news he had heard these days, and his heart was shocked. So, he nodded quickly, turned around, and hurriedly escaped from the church hall.
Suddenly, only the bishop and Grant were left in the hall.
"This robe looks very suitable." The bishop did not show any surprise. He turned around and nodded towards Grant, with some approval in his eyes.
Grant looked calmly at the bishop.
"The matter has come to this, but you are still pretending to be confused."
"I don't have any pretense, I just have a sincere heart to teach you all the skills I have learned, and to convey to you as much as possible the will God has conveyed to me."
"Really? Then you should understand why I came here today, right?"
The bishop nodded and said: "This white cassock was once worn by His Majesty the first Pope. It reminds me of my youth. At that time, I had just become a priest and served as a guardian for a period of time. Every day Watching it, praying, guarding it while sleeping, it’s such a nostalgic time.”
Upon hearing this, Grant shook his head, with a bit of sarcasm in his eyes.
"If you're going to make up sentimental words to gain sympathy, please move your face a little."
The bishop didn't answer, and the corners of his mouth were raised numbly, like a smile.
Grant's face suddenly turned gloomy.
"why are you laughing?"
"No, I'm just happy." The bishop revealed his loving eyes and said slowly, "Although it didn't take long, you grew up faster than I expected. God will definitely be very happy."
Grant suddenly clenched his fists: "So... did you expect today to come?"
"Yesterday, today, and tomorrow, God has arranged everything." The bishop smiled and said, "Grant, don't worry, fate is like a play that is performed every day in the downtown theater, you just need to keep walking along this path. "
Hearing this, Grant took a deep breath and closed his eyes, as if a sensitive nerve had been repeatedly challenged, and his endurance finally exceeded its limit and broke the string.
He walked up to the bishop and took out a dagger from his sleeve.
"You taught me all my magical skills, so I won't use it to kill you." He leaned into the bishop's ear and whispered, "And I will enshrine this dagger in your favorite place in the future. The blood stains on it will not be wiped off in that quiet room.”
The bishop nodded and looked straight ahead, not even looking at Grant.
"Very good. The mural in that quiet room was painted by a master two hundred years ago. I like it very much."
Grant suddenly became angry and said: "Is that just that? You don't plan to resist? Beg for mercy? Express your guilt for what you have done with tears streaming down your face? Or curse in anger? Tell me you don't regret it at all? You... Are you really not going to do anything?"
"No need, I've already done everything I need to do."
"Okay... then you go to hell!"
Finally, Grant couldn't bear it anymore and stabbed the dagger into the bishop's chest.
At that moment, the bishop's body shook and he fell straight forward. Grant subconsciously supported him, but found that the expression on the bishop's face was not painful at all, and was even like what he just said - with a bit of relief.
"you… "
Grant was speechless for a moment.
The bishop's face quickly turned pale, but he had not yet lost consciousness, and the corners of his mouth were slightly curved.
"God has already arranged our destiny..."
Grant interrupted immediately.
"All the priests think that you are ungrateful, hypocritical and cunning, and that you will do whatever it takes to pursue power. They think you are the murderer of the previous generation of Popes." He seemed to have suddenly thought of something, and leaned into the bishop's ear again, with some kind of revenge. The joy said, "They all hate you."
The bishop's expression did not change at all.
"Everything is God's will."
The voice was extremely weak, but as calm as ever. At that moment, the joy on Grant's face disappeared without a trace, leaving only a sense of frustration that was even stronger than before.
He suddenly let go of the bishop, took a few steps back involuntarily, and let the bishop fall to the ground. Then, he looked at the bishop with an expression that could even be said to be horrified, until the other person stopped breathing and his eyes slowly closed.
Then, Grant closed his eyes, showing a painful and angry expression, and his whole body was shaking due to violent mood swings.
"... You brought this all on yourself."
I don't know how long the silence lasted. Grant left these words, turned around, and hurriedly left the hall like a deserter.
After all, the bishop was the only one left in the hall.
Blood flowed from his chest, spread along the red robes, and spread on the red carpet, as if there was nothing on it. The night outside the corridor was quiet, and it was a good day to sleep until dawn.