When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

Chapter 1048 The era of opposing popes has ended.

Outside the stained glass windows of Bologna Cathedral, the rising sun casts a golden filter over the Creation Painting on the dome.

After a seven-day recess, the ecumenical council reconvened, and three thousand church representatives gathered here once again.

The air was thick with the smell of incense and tension, making everyone feel uneasy.

What needs to be decided today is not a simple doctrinal dispute, but the future of Messiahism.

Grandiva sat on the high chair on the right, his fingers repeatedly rubbing his sleeve.

His gaze kept drifting towards Horn and then towards Campbell, but neither of them gave him a second glance.

What exactly happened last night? Why did Bishop Campbell's attitude change so drastically?

It seems His Highness Charles VIII met privately with the sorcerer Horn yesterday. Could it be...?

Impossible. It's alright. I'm still useful. Besides, if there's really no other way, there's still the Pope's will.

Pope Priano's will must have supported the Theocratic tradition!
Once the document is opened and read aloud, Horn's current advantages are not enough to give him an overwhelming advantage.

As long as there is no overwhelming advantage and with the Kingdom of Fran as a backer, the situation won't be too bad.

"Silence!" Sheri's voice echoed in the hall, interrupting Grandiva's thoughts.

The room, which had been filled with whispered conversations, fell silent in an instant.

The black bishop's robes and the gray monk's robes clashed, some old and some young, and countless eyes were focused on the hall.

Sherley fell silent and stepped back, while the Grand Justice Cuyvalin beside him slowly unfolded the file and read it aloud in a leisurely manner: "According to the contents of the previous meeting, His Holiness Pope Horngalar of the Holy Alliance requests that the 'Confession of Springspring Castle' be read. Do any of you have any objections?"

The hall was completely silent; even Grandiva did not utter a sound.

In fact, in the seven days he spent, he couldn't come up with any good solutions other than smashing a few of his beloved vases and porcelain pieces.

Montel is useless too, leaving Grandiva with no cards to play. Grandiva clenched his fists in secret.

Horn stood up and took the dossier from Cuyvalin's hand: "The Confession of Springspring Castle is a confession of faith by the Holy Way to explain the meaning of the Holy Way to everyone."

Please allow me to explain them to you one by one. The first point is that the way of the Father is not only found in the scriptures, but also manifested in the laws of nature.

Believers should investigate with reason and verify with experience; this is the path to approaching the Holy Father…

One by one, ninety-five points flowed from his mouth.

These creeds had actually appeared in Pravda and various pamphlets before.

It was mentioned in the lectures over the past few days, but it wasn't systematically organized.

The letter contains statements that deny indulgences, such as "Good deeds should not be sold, just as sunlight should not be hoarded."

Some advocate for equality among believers, such as "the commoners and nobles are lambs before the Father."

Some even directly accuse the church of monopolizing the right to interpret scripture, such as "the right to interpret scripture is not exclusive to clergy; all literate believers can study it."

Each one is like a chisel, striking the very foundation of the Shinben sect.

The most controversial point is the last one: "The Holy Way is not a heresy, but the true faith of the Messiah."

No lord or city within the Empire should arrest believers or prohibit the Holy Way from proselytizing because of their faith in the Holy Way.

"Wow—"

The hall erupted in chaos.

The monks of the Holy Way sect were trembling with excitement, while the bishops of the Divine Ben sect were ashen-faced.

Grandiva intended to stand up abruptly, but his bottom barely left the chair before he sat back down.

His gaze swept toward Campbell, hoping this pillar of the French Church would stand up in opposition.

But the old bishop just lowered his eyes and head, as if he hadn't heard anything.

Grandiva stared at Campbell for a long time, but the old bishop remained silent, as if he were truly asleep.

A terrible thought crossed his mind, but he dared not think about it too deeply.

After swallowing hard, he hesitated for a long time before standing up shakily: "You have no right to do this! You are not the universally recognized Pope of the entire empire, so what right do you have to legitimize a religious sect?"

"I am the Pope of the Holy Alliance, and the believers of the Holy Alliance recognize me." Horn smiled slightly, his gaze sweeping over the representatives present. "As for whether it is recognized within the Empire, that naturally depends on the opinions of everyone present."

After all, the significance of the ecumenical council lies in the joint decision-making of doctrines by believers and clergy.

"A joint decision?" Grandiva slammed his hand on the armrest as if grasping at a straw. "Great! A joint decision, then let's vote!"
Let the bishops and representatives present vote and see who recognizes your so-called true faith!

He refused to believe that the three-thousand-year-old foundation of the Divine Origin Sect could be defeated by a newly emerging Sacred Path Sect.

Those old-guard bishops from Fran and Leia, those monastery representatives who have been attached to the church for generations, could never stand on Horn's side.

Quivalin and Sheri exchanged a glance, and the old judge slowly spoke: "Since His Excellency Grandiva has proposed this, then according to the old rules of the Grand Council, the vote must be approved by more than half of the representatives."

The bishop and the abbot each have one vote, and ten monks together form one vote.

Now, I ask you all to vote: Do you acknowledge the "Spring Spring Fortress Confession" and accept the Holy Way Sect as the orthodox faith of the Empire?

The air inside the hall seemed to freeze. The monks of the Holy Path Sect straightened their backs, while the bishops of the Divine Origin Sect pursed their lips.

Grandiva stared intently at the representatives from Frankfurt, his eyes filled with warning.

Horn stood quietly in the center of the hall, his black robes fluttering slightly in the breeze.

"Those who agree, please raise your hand. A vote counter will come to your side and invite you to sign as proof."

In an instant, countless hands emerged from the black robe, like a forest suddenly rising up.

Grandiva's pupils suddenly contracted, and he seemed to freeze in place.

The number is not right. Although many people raised their hands to confuse the issue, something is still not right.

"Impossible..." No matter how much Grandiva disbelieved it, the number of people raising their hands was visibly more than half.

He had intended to maintain his composure, but after many of the abbots and bishops of Fran hesitated for a moment and slowly raised their hands, he couldn't hold back any longer.

"you!"

He suddenly jumped up from the high chair, his shrill voice sounding like a woman screaming.

Grandiva stared intently at the bishops and abbots who had raised their hands: "Have you all been bribed? Have you forgotten who provided the funds for the monastery?"

His gaze swept across the crowd, finally settling on a round-faced abbot in the front row.

That was his most loyal subordinate, from the St. Martin's Abbey on the outskirts of Flowerhill City.

In the past, even if Grandiva said "the sun is square," this person would agree.

But just now, that hand wearing the ruby ​​ring was clearly raised.

“Yan Bazoer!” Grandiva’s voice suddenly rose, trembling with disbelief. “The code, why?!”

Bazoer lowered his head, and after a long pause, he stammered, "Your Excellency Grandiva... the Holy Alliance needs to revise the Gospels, to distinguish truth from falsehood, and requires some scholars to study the scriptures..."

Grandiva seemed not to understand French: "Just for this? You were bribed because of this?"

“This is not a bribe, Your Excellency Grandiva,” Chief Justice Quivalin stepped forward, leaning on his cane. “What we are to do is gather all the learned monks in the Empire to correct the errors in the Gospels.”

Just as we had Bullock disprove the "Biography of St. Ran," we corrected the errors in the copying of the book throughout history.

This is something that money cannot measure for anyone studying theology.

Grandiva felt as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over his head. Looking at the silent, bowed-headed French bishops, he suddenly understood.

His fate had already been decided by Charlie and Horn long before today.

He doesn't even have the right to sit at the table.

Staggering backward, Grandiva's back slammed against the armrest of the high chair, but he suddenly stood up the moment he touched the seat.

still have a chance!

A final glimmer of light appeared in Grandiva's eyes: "The Pope's will! His Majesty Priano's will!"

He roared as if grasping at a straw: "According to the rules of the Grand Council, the will has not yet been read!"
"As long as the will supports the Shinbon sect, your votes are invalid!"

Cuevalin frowned: "The vote is in, you lost. As is customary, the loser has no right to demand the reading of the will..."

“I don’t care about precedents!” Grandiva completely lost his composure. He lunged at Celi, grabbing the man’s robes. “Read it now! Take out His Majesty Priano’s will and read it! I am the rightful heir!”

Sheri was pulled so hard he stumbled, and he angrily slapped Grandiva's hand: "Let go of me, this is not the place for you to cause trouble."

"Guards!" Quivalin called out more directly, but none of the guards dared to lay a hand on Grandiva.

Grandiva had already reached out and searched Sheri's body, even trying to pull down his pants, which made Sheri even more furious.

In the midst of the chaos, Horn stepped forward and, with the help of the guards, pried Grandiva's hands off.

"Your Excellency Grandiva, are you sure you want to read this aloud in public?" Horn stared into Grandiva's eyes.

Grandiva glared at him, his eyes bloodshot: "I'm sure! I'll show everyone who the Holy Father has chosen!"

Horn didn't say anything more, but simply nodded to Sherley.

With a cold laugh, Sherley turned around and picked up a scroll wrapped in red silk.

He cleared his throat as he walked to the center of the main hall.

The thousand senior priests inside the main hall and the two thousand monks peeking out from outside fell silent instantly.

Even the sound of breathing seemed to have disappeared.

“I witnessed the writing of Pope Priano’s will in 1453, the day before the fall of the Holy See.” Sheri unfolded the scroll. “Looking at the chaos in the empire and the corruption of the church, I know that the Messiah Church needs reform.”

Horngal, though my enemy, is in accordance with the Father's will.

After my death, I will bestow a triple crown upon Galar, confirming him as the true Pope, revising the doctrines, and reviving the Messianic religion…”

Every word was like a heavy hammer blow, striking everyone's heart.

The whole place was dead silent.

The monks of the Sacred Way forgot to cheer, the bishops of the Divine Bond forgot to refute, and even Cuyvalin was stunned.

No one expected that the former pope's will would directly designate Horn as his successor.

That was the peasant uprising, the opposition Pope Horn, the “heretic” of the Holy Way!
Grandiva stood frozen in place, the color draining from his face, as if all his strength had been drained away.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but only managed to gasp for breath.

The pride, anger, and resentment that sustained him shattered into nothingness before the words of his will.

"No...it's impossible...this is fake, this is fake..." he murmured, then suddenly his eyes rolled back and he fell straight backward like a broken piece of wood.

"Your Majesty!"

"Doctor! Pharmacist!"

"Monks, quickly bestow blessings!"

Horn stood there, the joy of victory fading, leaving behind a complex feeling.

Sunlight streamed through the stained glass, casting the shadow of the sacred tree at his feet.

Outside the main hall, a wind had risen at some point, swirling fallen leaves across the square, while white smoke rose from the chimney of the Yingjing Hall.

Quivalin spoke slowly, his voice echoing throughout the silent hall: "According to the will and the voting results, the papal conflict is over. From this day forward, Horngalal of the Holy Way is the sole Pope of the Messiah Church."

(End of this chapter)