Miss Wang Weina, even your cousin won't do!

At that moment, everyone in Lentinium, throughout Victoria, and even across Terra who was watching Victoria's channels, noticed the headline that had attracted countless eyes.

—【On the Sin of the Lateran Church—Ninety-Five Theses】!

Chapter Thirty-Eight: This is what everyone has been hoping for!

St. John's Cathedral, Victoria.

The setting sun, like blood, spilled across the marble path leading to the church. The evening breeze rustled through the tall trees lining the road, the soft whispers like the devil's secrets. At the end of the path, the familiar yet strange church was shrouded in a hazy sunlight, blending into the sunset on the horizon, seemingly real yet unreal. However, the mottled walls, the neglected garden, the crooked altar, and the dusty doors made the abode of God appear so desolate at this moment!

The Royal Victoria Mounted Police, armed with heavy lances nearly as tall as a man, were adorned with the Victorian royal emblem of a griffin, unicorn, and aslan. The gleaming silver tips of their lances pierced the evening mist, their flashes guiding their path. Dozens of mounted police, like noble griffin riders from ancient legends, formed a triangular formation, like the arrowheads of a sharp arrow, ready to pounce and pierce the enemy ranks at the commander's command. And there were four such formations!

At this moment, the residents on both sides of the street had noticed the unusual situation outside. The residents of the elegant clock tower country looked surprised, opened their windows and doors, and cast doubtful glances at the overwhelming "knights". They seemed to be thinking about who Victoria was going to war with this time, and which nobleman who could command the wind and rain in the empire was being protected by these four cavalry units.

Broca sat in the central carriage, wearing a papal cap, holding a scepter, and dressed in fine clothes, deep in thought with his eyes closed.

In front of her lay a document that Wayne had instructed the intelligence department to give him, detailing the Vatican's actions in Victoria over the years.

The more I read, the more shocking it became!

There were corrupt priests who, under the pretext that God needed to repair Heaven, levied exorbitant taxes in villages that were isolated from the world and deeply superstitious, offering only the empty promise that "God will remember you."

A filthy priest, spouting nonsense, told an innocent girl, "I have a demon within me, and you have hell within you. Only by sending the demon to hell can we complete our mission." A noble pretext, but in reality, he was committing despicable acts; the so-called sending the demon to hell was nothing more than pure rape.

Even worse, some imprisoned dozens of young girls from an entire village in the church under the pretext of converting believers and cleansing their sins. They were then "trained" according to "divine decree" and sold to local nobles, foreign lords, or even mercenary organizations to serve as servants, objects of interest, and daily necessities.

Bullshit! When has God ever issued such a damned command?!

She clutched the parchment tightly to her chest, wishing she had another pen so she could scribble down the pent-up emotions in her heart, denounce the crimes of the corrupt, and seek punishment and forgiveness from God, the King, and the people!

She could do it. Right across from her sat Prince Wayne and Her Majesty Vina's bodyguard, "Mudrock," and she was certain that if Broca asked for it now, whether it was a pen filled with ink or expensive parchment, it would be delivered to her in less than five minutes.

But she ultimately remained silent, for she knew that sins were endless, and some things were simply too numerous to recount! But she could not reveal them all, for if she did, the entire land would be utterly disillusioned with the so-called "church" and "god"!

But people still need the church to confide their sorrows and depression, and they still need the gods to seek forgiveness and comfort. This system has not yet reached its end. What Broca can do now is not to completely smash the idols, but to thoroughly cleanse them.

That's probably why Prince Wayne only brought these things to me now...

They don't want me to do anything rash that would disrupt everything that has been painstakingly arranged.

Broca understood, and at the same time felt somewhat relieved.

His Highness Wayne was always thinking of her, which made her feel a little embarrassed.

I can't let him down!

Broca carefully rolled up all the files on the desk, memorizing the blood-stained accusations on the thick parchment. Then, she handed all the documents to Mudrock.

“Mr. Mudrock (Although Wayne recognized Mudrock, he did not tell anyone else his identity), please put these things in the safe of the religious office. In the future, please let each Patriarch see these things and remember his mission.”

The expression beneath the mudstone mask twisted strangely under the title "Sir," but she didn't utter a word in rebuttal. Instead, she silently nodded and reached out to seal all the scrolls and files into a rock sphere created by Originium Arts.

Although she was the first person to handle these files, she hadn't actually read them. However, she could vaguely guess some of the contents from Broca's expression. She wasn't stupid. Although she was sometimes a little confused and slow to react, she had a premonition about everything Victoria was doing at the moment.

This will be something that shakes all of Terra and will leave its mark on this land.

It is a truly great achievement!

"I will."

Mudstone's voice was gentle, but it sounded muffled under the influence of the voice changer. In any case, Broca got the answer he wanted.

At that moment, the carriage slowly came to a stop.

Outside the cordon formed by scattered mounted police around St. John's Cathedral, the elderly priests watched in astonishment at the scene before them.

Wasn't the church abandoned? Why are there so many mounted police suddenly appearing and the area being sealed off?

Where is Broca? Didn't she promise to come back soon? Where is she now? How anxious would she be if she knew the church was surrounded?

This church is where that child grew up; it's her home!

The old priest couldn't sit still any longer. He darted into the crowd. Kuranta's natural agility allowed him to move with incredible speed even in his seventies. He squeezed through the throng and finally reached the mounted police.

Their bodies were like cedars standing against the cold in the Ursus wasteland, their resolute gazes like those of fishermen in legends who fought sea monsters with steel forks. The blood-red sunset shone on them, showing no signs of aging, only a bright layer of gold.

The old priest straightened his neck, forced a smile, and asked the mounted policeman in front of him:

"Sir, what is the purpose of surrounding this place?"

The mounted police officer, without glancing to the side, replied calmly:

"Follow orders, hold ceremonies, and break down [ecclesiastical authority]."

The old priest's voice choked for a moment, his pupils dilating in disbelief, but at this moment, his concern for Broca outweighed his curiosity about the ceremony, and he asked again:

"Sir, have you seen a little girl named Broca, who is a nun?"

A hint of interest flickered across the mounted policeman's usually calm face. He threw the question back at him, saying:

"You know her?"

The old priest nodded hurriedly, his heart not only not at ease, but also on edge.

This is the military, and the fact that military personnel know Broca isn't necessarily a good thing.

He only hoped that things didn't go as badly as he had imagined.

"Yes, I know her. She's a Anglican nun, my student and goddaughter. May I ask where she is now?"

The mounted police officer paused, a look of surprise appearing on his face.

He hadn't expected that the priest who inquired about the Patriarch at the ceremony would have such a powerful background.

The Patriarch was his student and tutor, so what rank must he have held?

The mounted policeman didn't know the details, but he knew this was someone he should treat with courtesy. So he gave his colleague a wink, then turned slightly, bowed a little, and extended his hand in a gesture of invitation, saying:

"I'll take you to see her right away."

The old priest blinked in surprise and uncertainty, but the mounted policeman's actions had already drawn gasps of amazement from the countless onlookers around him. He was caught in a dilemma and had no choice but to nod and walk into the inner part of the cordon.

He walked past the familiar gardens of St. John's Cathedral and across the wide gravel path in front of the cathedral's main entrance. Before him stood the heavy marble relief doors of St. John's Cathedral, both familiar and unfamiliar. And in front of the doors, he saw a figure that was all too familiar to him.

"Out of a thirst for the truth and a desire to discern right from wrong, Sister Broca, Master of Arts, Master of Theology and Priestess of St. John's Cathedral in Victoria, intends to preside over a public debate on the following articles and hopes that those who cannot participate in the oral debate will submit written opinions."

In the name of my Lord, who is merciful, wise, and magnanimous. Amen.

【01. When I say “You should repent,” His intention is that believers dedicate their lives to repentance.

02. The term “repentance” should not be understood as a penitential ceremony, that is, confession and penance presided over by a priest.

03. But it does not mean only inner repentance; without various external ascetic practices, it is also ineffective.

04. Atonement should be carried out in tandem with self-hatred, that is, genuine inner repentance, until entering the Kingdom of Heaven.

05. The Pope has neither the will nor the power to absolve any sin; he can only pardon punishments imposed upon people by his own authority or by canon law.

Drones hovered around him, transmitting the girl's youthful yet determined face across Terra via radio and data. Broca remained unfazed and delivered his impassioned speech:

[24. Therefore, indiscriminately advocating for the pardon of sins will inevitably deceive the majority of people.]

......

27. They were only advocating human ideas, saying that when the silver coins in the vault jingled, the souls in purgatory would fly to heaven in response.

28. Clearly, the clinking of coins in the cash register only increases greed and selfishness. As for the effectiveness of church intercessory prayer, that is solely determined by God, and the Pope has no right to usurp it!

The questioning voice wasn't loud, but it resonated like a great bell, echoing in the ears of everyone who listened, watched, or experienced the ceremony.

[35. Any claim that buying a soul to avoid the suffering of purgatory or to buy a privilege of repentance means that there is no need for repentance is not in accordance with the teachings of Christ.]

36. A Christian who sincerely repents can obtain the right to complete exemption from punishment for sins even without purchasing indulgences.

37. Sincerely repentant Christians, whether alive or dead, even without indulgences, can still share in the blessings and grace of God and the church.

Justification by faith means that one should not be able to ascend to heaven based on the amount of wealth one possesses. If that were the case, why would people pray to the Vatican? They should simply go to temples dedicated to the god of wealth.

[75. It must be madness to think that the Pope’s indulgences have such great power that they can even forgive those who have done unthinkable things and insulted the Virgin Mary.]

76. On the contrary, we believe that when it comes to sin, even the most insignificant sins cannot be absolved by papal indulgences.

......

80. Bishops, priests, and theologians who allow such fallacies to circulate among the people should be held responsible.

A complete denial: the so-called indulgence is nothing more than a piece of waste paper stamped with a seal. It is worthless, cannot be appreciated by God, and naturally cannot absolve any sins.

Broca had long understood this, which was why she had never participated in the sale of indulgences. She simply ignored the priests in other churches who used them to make money. She used to think that she only needed to clean up her own doorstep, but now she knew that even the most delicious soup could become rotten because of a single impurity. Ignoring those corrupt priests mingling in the Vatican was disrespectful to all the diligent clergy! It was blasphemy against God, against the very purpose of building this system, and against the original intention of guiding people towards goodness!

Now, she is turning her attention to the southeast.

The leader of the corrupt sits on a sacred throne, and thus the throne itself loses its sacredness. Broca may never find the one who started it all, but he is undoubtedly the one who ultimately benefits the most.

Therefore, based on the aforementioned ninety-five theses, I, Broca Rosserwyn, Patriarch of the Anglican Church of Victoria, hereby declare, in the name of the Father, that is, the Son, that is, the Holy Spirit, that Peter X, the sinner, is excommunicated!

This is what everyone hopes for.

Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Pope's Wrath!

Lateran, Papal Palace, 6:00 pm.

Urbino stood by the window of the conference room, his gaze sweeping over the majestic Vatican City's cathedral complex. Usually, when he stood here, gazing at the magnificent towers and domes, an overwhelming surge of emotion would well up within him. Overwhelmed with emotion, he felt as if he, Urbino, were the master of the world.

But for some reason, standing by the window today, looking at the ancient city bathed in the dim sunlight, he felt a sense of desolation. It seemed that the great sun that had long shone on Lateran was setting, and a long night was about to begin.

The curtains of the Vatican's conference room were gently drawn. Urbino turned his head, and silence spread among his many colleagues in the conference room, accompanied by an increasingly oppressive and anxious atmosphere.

But no one spoke, because the person who had gathered them here had not yet made his formal appearance.

Five more minutes passed, and with a loud thud of a cane hitting the ground, the conference room door was pushed open. Surrounded by white-robed paladins in cross armor, the elderly pope walked with somewhat unsteady steps to the only desk in the conference room, pulled out a chair, and sat down.

"Report on the situation. Tell me what happened this afternoon."

Pope Peter X took his reading glasses from his robes, which were trimmed with gold thread, put them on, raised his head, glanced at the silent crowd, and suddenly let out a sneer:

"Tell me, what happened this afternoon? Did you really think you could keep something this big from me?! You're usually so talkative, aren't you? Come on, translate for me, what kind of surprise Victoria gave me!"

He raised the crucifix in his hand and pointed it at Urbino. The hard metal base of the staff was only a few centimeters away from the nose of this cardinal upstart. It seemed that if the Pope exerted just a little more force, the staff would break Urbino's high nose bridge!

“Archbishop Urbino, you shall tell me.”

Urbino swallowed hard and glanced at his colleagues around him. Some were silent with their heads down, some had heavy expressions, and some were full of sympathy, but none of them dared to say a word or two in his defense.

Damn it, what a fair-weather friend!