Wandering Swordsman |

The midday sun shines through the stained glass windows, casting dappled light and shadow on the floor of the Vatican's sacred mountain palace, as if a divine oracle had descended to earth.

The Pope slowly entered the room that symbolized supreme power, his white robes billowing gently, his steps steady.

He was exhausted both physically and mentally today—having listened to reports from the Cardinals, presided over sacraments, and received envoys, even his breathing carried a heavy, oppressive weight.

At this moment, all he wanted was to take off the heavy headdress that symbolized the triple crown and close his eyes to rest for a while.

However, just as he turned to sit on the soft couch, his peripheral vision inadvertently swept over that familiar marble wall.

In an instant, he stopped in his tracks.

My heart skipped a beat.

It was a wall covered with ancient scriptures, each line of text meticulously copied by the most devout monks using gold powder, and it has remained unfaded despite a century of wind and rain.

It is not just decoration, but also a totem of faith, the first sight he gazes upon during his daily morning prayers.

But now...

wrong!

The Pope's pupils suddenly contracted, as if a hawk had spotted a weakness in its prey.

That almost imperceptible mark—an extremely fine dust mark—straddled the originally smooth relief pattern.

It's like a finger that once gently glided across this spot.

It's like... someone triggered some mechanism.

Cold sweat seeped silently from his forehead, trickling down his temples and dripping into his collar.

He suppressed the turmoil in his heart, stepped forward slowly, his fingertips trembling slightly, yet he still tried his best to maintain his usual dignified demeanor.

"Impossible..." he muttered to himself, "Only I know the entrance mechanism to the secret chamber, and only I can open it!"

His gaze was fixed on the inconspicuous groove relief.

That was the trigger point for the mechanism.

Now, its surface has a slightly different sheen—it looks like it has been pressed.

Not once, but twice.

Open once, close once.

A chill ran down his spine and up to his head, as if a pair of eyes had already pierced through this sacred fortress, silently watching his every move.

who is it?

How could you manage to sneak into my palace without being seen or heard?

How could they possibly get through that deadly mechanism?

How could they possibly enter that secret place... a place that only the Popes of all time could set foot in?

Could it be that heretic named "Shen Mo" brought back by "Faceless"?

The Pope's heart pounded, and the report about Shen Mo passing the test flashed through his mind: "This person is extraordinary; he passed all the tests with flying colors, and his reactions were like those of a god."

Even judging from Shen Mo's test results, it was impossible to achieve such flawless stealth.

unless……

Unless Shen Mo is hiding his true strength! His true strength has already surpassed that of a seven-star being. If he hadn't reached that level of power, it would have been impossible for him to avoid those traps.

Once this thought arose, it was like a poisonous vine clinging to my heart, impossible to shake off.

He stood before the wall, motionless for a long time, the sunlight casting deep shadows on his face.

That usually kind and dignified face was now twisted with an undisguised fear and anger.

But he quickly took a deep breath, and his eyes turned cold and hard again.

"Since you've managed to get in... let me see just how much guts you have."

The sound of the mechanism activating was low and discreet. The entire wall slid open horizontally as if it were alive, revealing a staircase extending downwards into the deep, unfathomable darkness.

The Pope, carrying a silver candlestick, walked down the steps alone.

The air suddenly turned cold and damp, and with each step, the echo reverberated repeatedly between the stone walls, as if leading to the throat of hell.

He knew that the passage was designed to kill any intruder—flip-top traps, poisoned crossbow bolts, falling into deep pits… even he himself would perish if he took the wrong step.

But that person came and went without any apparent harm.

Thinking of this, his knuckles turned white from gripping the candlestick so tightly.

Finally, the colossal bronze gate came into view.

He placed the cross on his chest over the cross-shaped keyhole, activated the holy power within him, and the seven gems rotated in sequence, slowly opening the door.

In an instant, golden light rushed towards them.

The secret chamber was brightly lit, with seven golden oil lamps burning with an inextinguishable holy flame, illuminating the mountains of treasures: open chests and cabinets of jade, pearls, ivory, fox fur, and gold coins, their brilliance dazzling.

The Pope's gaze swept over them quickly.

Everything is fine.

There were no signs that it had been disturbed.

There are no missing treasures.

Even the position of a single gold coin remained unchanged.

His tense nerves finally relaxed slightly, and he let out a long sigh of relief.

"Fortunately... at least, my wealth is still intact."

These are not merely symbols of greed.

This is the result of his decades of political maneuvering and manipulation of people's hearts.

It is the blood and sweat of countless believers.

But soon, his brows furrowed again.

Because he noticed—

The bookshelf in the corner, which was originally neatly arranged with scrolls, has a noticeable gap.

A thick book with a sheepskin cover has gone missing.

The empty space was originally occupied by his own handwritten notes.

It records every major decision, every power struggle, and every name that had to be erased.

It even contains his true arrangement for "Faceless"—about the whole process of her childhood abduction.

And now...

It disappeared.

The Pope's face instantly darkened.

His breathing became rapid, and a rare look of panic flashed in his eyes.

Who took it?

Was it the person named Shen Mo who was brought back by the Faceless One? Or... was it "Faceless One" himself?

If it's the latter, what does that mean?

Does this mean she has begun to doubt her authority as pope?

Does this mean she's searching for her past?

This means... she will eventually find out how she was taken from her father and how she was turned into a knife that exists only for the Church to kill.

He slowly walked to the bookshelf and reached out to touch the empty space.

A cold sensation came from my fingertips.

"Damn it!" he gritted his teeth. "I thought no one could find this place... I thought this world only obeyed my pronouncements..."

But now, someone has broken the taboo.

Moreover, it was done in an almost artistic way.

There was no fighting, no destruction, only precise insight and absolute calm.

This is no ordinary thief.

He wasn't a fanatical assassin either.

This is someone who... can see through all his disguises.

An existence even stronger than the Seven Stars.

A threat that could potentially overturn the entire Papacy order.

On the other hand, Shen Mo brought the Pope's chronicle to Alice.

In the dim candlelight, Alice removed the cold, silver mask.

This once disfigured face now boasts eyebrows like distant mountains, eyes like autumn water, and skin as white as snow, making her breathtakingly beautiful.

But her eyes burned with an unprecedented rage.

She clutched the parchment book tightly in her hand, her knuckles turning white from the force, and the edges of the pages were wrinkled from being squeezed.

"October 19th, sunny. Duke Odin of the Tsarist Empire is growing increasingly powerful and is very resistant to the spread of the Papacy. This man is unparalleled in martial arts and has many talented subordinates. If we allow him to continue, he may endanger our millennia-old foundation."

"After much deliberation, he decided to start with his beloved daughter, so he invited her to be an envoy to the Holy See."

"After Odin entered the country, he ordered his trusted men to impersonate bandits and kidnap Odin's daughter, Alice..."