savior epic

Chapter 50 Debating the Scriptures
For the pagans who are about to embark on a pilgrimage, the arrival of the priest of Resurrection Town, Manuel, is undoubtedly the most unlucky event of the day.

Dressed in a plain Dammatic friar's robe, with scriptures in his arms, he stepped into the lecture hall with steady steps, completely ignoring the disgusting gazes of the heretics. His niece was sent to prison.

"Father, are you here to debate scriptures?" Covered in tulle, Lomea stepped forward.

Manuel nodded, and pointed out the ring ceremony with his fingers, "May your gods bless you, please tell me, is Isha the priest?"

"May you also be blessed." Lomea turned the ode beads. The quaint sandalwood beads are not decorated too much, but the material of the spice alone is better than countless gold. "Please wait for me to tell grandma."

Manuel thanked Lomea, he stood aside, beside the tall wall pillars, he gazed at the stone pillars carved with angels, which originally belonged to the true religion, and in the pagan scriptures, their king of kings and the Lord God The successor claimed to be in the kingdom of heaven, so at the top of the stone pillar, under the base of the ring connecting the ceiling, the reliefs of the scepter and crown intersecting, the traces of carving are very new, Manuel snorted.

Manuel looked around at the lecture hall converted from a church. The hall that was supposed to be covered with pure black cloth as an aisle was now hollowed out with a half-meter-high pit and filled with clean water. Kneel down on your knees, dip your fingers in the holy water in their eyes, smear it on your forehead and cheeks, bend down and kneel towards the icon painting, then get up, close your eyes and walk across the aisle paved with milky white stone bricks, they regard it as a holy bridge , passing this way, they touched the oak frame of the tall icon.

Thus they consider themselves blessed.

"Lord, forgive these deceived people." Manuel said silently in his heart.

Wearing a sacrificial cloak and a robe with trims, the priest of Isa is probably no different from a senior priest, and she is leaning on a long staff.

"Pagan priest, you still want to argue with me?" she asked.

"Not with you, but with your god," Manuel replied.

Isa officiant smiled lightly, she turned around and went to the guest room.

The pagan priesthood on the side made a gesture of invitation.

The priest strode forward.

It's almost dusk.

Manuel lost again.

After the last debate, he read the pagan scriptures all night. He originally discussed Christopher's innocence from the question of whether the king of kings exists, that is, the thunder that fell on the seminary was just the fault of the gods, not God's punishment. .

He argued that the King of Kings does not exist, so there is no and impossible divine punishment. In the scriptures of the true religion, the Lord God who is with the three has never predicted that the King of Kings will be born in the future and enter His heavenly kingdom.

At that time, I saw the officiant Yisha fell into long-term thinking, with a look of hesitation on his face.For a moment Manuel thought he had the upper hand.

Then, the priest Isha said, the king of our kings is also the god of the three. He was never born in the later life, but was with the main god in the past. Therefore, the main god never said that the king of our kings will be in the The hereafter was born, because the king of my king has always been with the Lord God forever.

If it is just such words, Manuel still has eloquent capital.

However, Isa's priest simply said: "After the scriptures were rebuilt, how many scriptures of your true religion have been tampered with? How many times have you denied the ancient holy capital."

Manuel's expression changed, and he was at a loss for words.

In the legendary epic, the holy capital was devoured and fell by the dead souls of the ancient family, and became an unspeakable city of dead souls.

The pope of the Ain family fasted for ten years, and received an oracle from an angel in 324 A.C., and rebuilt the classics, which is recorded as "reconstruction of the scriptures".

Taking this as a breakthrough point, Manuel's arguments were refuted one after another, and even became the weapon used by Isa's officiant to fight back.

As the debate drew to a close, Manuel was drenched in cold sweat, with cold fingers to heels.

"May you be blessed." Manuel tried to maintain the last dignity, and walked out of the seminary with unsteady heels.

Walking through the streets showing the true color of the earth, Manuel clutched the scriptures in his hands, recited scriptures continuously, and begged the gods to forgive him for his failure.

When he came to the church, he saw bandaged monks and a pool of wet blood on the ground.

"Father, Annie has been taken away." The monk cried.

As soon as he finished speaking, Manuel trembled all over his body, as if molten iron had been poured into his cochlea. He pressed the scriptures in his hand and breathed rapidly.

He didn't ask "What did you say?" or anything like that.Manuel rushed into the church impatiently, stumbled and ran around every corner of the church, including the cemetery in the backyard, but could not find the girl.

His niece, Anne, was taken back to prison by the heretics, and together with her sister, was about to be sent to the Holy Land to be burned at the stake.

Manuel chanted the Lord aloud, and ignored even the evening prayer, knocked open the door of the confessional in despair, and sat in front of the carved window for a long time, mourning silently through the twilight of the hollow lace.

This is a confessional room so quiet that floating dust can be seen.

At some point, Manuel noticed a figure blocking the light.

"No confession at this time." Manuel said coldly.

"Strong despair." The man seemed to be talking to himself.

Manuel raised his head, but he couldn't see the figure of the other party clearly outside the window lattice. This kind of old-fashioned confession room is isolated from each other for the believers to better confess their mistakes.

"Listen, I don't understand what you're talking about, and it doesn't matter who you are. If you want to confess, you'll have to wait until tomorrow. I won't accept confessions now." Manuel couldn't help but snapped.

Manuel, who never refused to come and go, is in no mood to listen to a confession.

"No, Father, I'm not here to confess." The man raised his hands to cover the opening of the window lattice, "I'm an entertainer, a minstrel who can play the lute."

"Okay then, Mr. Artist, please go back and let me be alone for a while." Manuel said in a deep voice.

"Okay, Father, before that, I want to make a small request to you." The man smiled strongly.

Manuel felt a shudder for some reason.

"I don't care what your request is, I just want you to go now, get out of here."

"Don't worry, Father, don't worry, you are already desperate enough, how about some more fear." After saying this, Manuel saw the man standing up slowly, away from the confession window, and pushed open the door.

Manuel breathed a sigh of relief. He put his hands on his forehead and sighed heavily.

Thinking of how Anne was dragged and dragged out of the church, Manuel slammed his fist on the table.

He rubbed his forehead, his heart filled with boredom and despair.

Snapped.

Behind him, a hand from nowhere was placed on his shoulder.

Manuel's hairs stood on end, and the fear of going upstream grabbed his throat.

"Father, how about I show you a trick first?"

The voice I heard just now, a strong smile sounded behind me.

The cold sound of dog barking resounded through the backyard of the church.

(End of this chapter)