This heretic cannot be burned, he must be hung up and whipped!

Luce wrote these words in his diary and had new expectations for the distant Rome.

She believed that when she arrived in Rome, she would be able to get answers to these questions from experienced, knowledgeable and devout bishops and even the Pope.

As Rome drew closer, gilded sentry boxes began to appear on both sides of the road. Black-robed priests, holding microphones, recited poems one after another, echoing off the granite pavement.

When Luce counted to the twenty-third booth, he found that a priest turned around and operated the telegraph machine abnormally quickly.

"Did you see the scarlet lining half exposed under his black robe? That's the exclusive color for the Inquisition's special observers."

The officer in the team came up to Luce and spoke to her secretly.

"Kneel down! Make way for the saints!"

The sudden scolding made Luce stumble and fall. She looked up and saw a carriage of aristocrats in gorgeous attire rolling over the prostrate civilians, its jewel-encrusted wheels stained with the blue petals of cornflowers.

At a certain moment, she made eye contact with a stranger in the crowd - the fear in that man's eyes was so similar to that of a father who was saving money for his daughter's medicine on the streets of Turin!

"Is this the answer you expected?"

Technical Priest Matteo's shackles suddenly tightened. Following the direction he pointed, Luce saw the team moving under the shadow of the city wall:

Ascetics carrying granite crosses, penitents with iron spikes around their necks, and even more pilgrims with their eyes blurring. Their footsteps gradually overlapped with the ticking of the telegraph in the sentry box. At one moment, Luce seemed to see invisible chains extending from under everyone's feet, finally converging in front of the bronze doors of St. Peter's Basilica.

The long procession stretched for thousands of meters, with flags and banners hung on both sides of the road, icons and flowers everywhere. The residents knelt down on both sides of the road to show their respect for these pilgrims who had walked thousands of miles.

Luce didn't think he was that great, so he wanted to help them up, but the pastor stopped him: "This is what we deserve."

She couldn't understand: "Why? Dad, what's wrong? We haven't done anything to help them along the way. I haven't fought heretics on the front lines, nor have I grown food in the fields, nor forged in the factories, nor researched new technologies. I haven't provided any help to their lives.

Instead, they are sacrificing their own quality of life to provide for us, while the only thing we have is devotion to the Lord.”

When the unfamiliar pilgrims around heard these dangerous words, they quickly quickened their pace and moved away from her. Within a few seconds, a circle of empty space formed around Luce's pilgrim group.

"This is the blessing you receive because of your piety to the Lord!" The pastor in the team thought for a while and answered her.

"But aren't they pious? Weren't we also one of them before we joined this pilgrimage?" The pastor shook his head and did not answer her.

The priest reading biblical allusions in the radio booth noticed Luce. After the group passed, he pressed a hidden button and whispered into the microphone, "Station LDR-02, the woman in chain mail with the New Antioch coat of arms on her shoulder is a potential blasphemer and requires special attention. I recommend sending her to the front lines. Over."

"Received. Observers are taking their positions. Follow the instructions of the Holy Father. God's glory surpasses the heavens, and His love extends to all. He is the King of kings and Lord of lords. His name should be praised forever!"

“Praise be to the Most High God!”

PS1: This chapter may have a strong biblical flavor... I checked a lot of information when writing it.

PS2: Current bill: 220 recommended votes in the early stage will be used for the next update, 4.5k! 1 blade/monthly ticket/100 is equal to 20 votes!

Mygo, Moon Falls, Flowers Break

Summary: Ai Yin, who is suffering from a terminal illness, has to end her solitary study in the UK.

After moving to Yuqiu, I thought I could just be a little bit famous and spend the rest of my life there, but who knew...

Deng: Can you stay with me forever?

Li Xi: You can’t run away from the band you formed!

Su Shi: My sun, you are so dazzling.

Lena: Aine, I like it.

Xiangzi: You are my white moonlight.

Mu: Can you be my own Aine-chan?

No, are you serious about this kind of gravity? I can't be with you forever!

Just as Aine turned around and wanted to leave, the person she had once saved was now holding her hand tightly...

(The ending is he)

Rising Flames: 1914: Chapter 19: Man Cannot Defy God's Will (6k)

The church leased several plots of land in Rome to house these pilgrims.

"Tomorrow, the Pope will receive you. Dress neatly and refrain from any acts of blasphemy or disrespect for the Holy Father. From the moment you arrive in the Holy City, you will be under the constant scrutiny of the Church. Those who perform well will be granted an audience with the Holy Father!"

A soldier wearing a strange helmet and holding a spear gathered the pilgrims together like pigs, then made them stand in line and slowly walked past them.

"On behalf of the Holy Father, I will select the best among you. All of you—put down your weapons and stand still! The selection ceremony begins now!"

Two soldiers came in, lit all the holy wax along the wall, and turned off the lights.

"呲————"

A strange fragrance spread from all directions to the pilgrims' team, and Luce noticed that the priests and soldiers hiding in the shadows of candlelight were all wearing gas masks.

"This smoke...why don't they want to breathe it in?"

Rome had just experienced a light rain in December, and the damp, chilly air, laced with the scent of frankincense and beeswax, condensed into a mist beneath the iron eaves of the factory. Some elderly people, frail and unable to move, staggered and collapsed to the ground, sniffing the mist.

"Stand up straight! The Lord is watching you from now on. Do not do anything blasphemous. Violators will be killed without mercy!"

A sound of clashing footsteps was heard in the darkness, and a strange man wearing plate armor and an ellipsoidal helmet on his head came over. There was an instrument behind him, and the long antenna kept shaking.

"Master Observer!"

The priests and soldiers knelt before him and paid him the highest respect.

"Why do the soldiers respect this observer so much?"

Luce stared at him, the blood-red cross-embroidery on his cloak glowing an eerie red in the dim light of the Christmas tree.

Hundreds of pilgrims huddled together. A hunchbacked old man in the front row twisted his rosary beads in his palms, his knuckles white with nervousness. Behind him, a blacksmith as sturdy as an oak barrel wiped his brow with his grease-stained sleeve. In the corner, a peasant woman in a faded headscarf clutched her crucifix. A young man in a coarse linen shirt huddled in the recess of a pillar, his eyelashes trembling in the candlelight, a hint of unease.

"In the name of the Holy Father—line up!"

The observer's voice had a strong mechanical flavor, as if his vocal cords had been modified. The crowd squirmed like sheep being whipped.

“Wow—” “Now—everyone look at me.” The observer said, standing on the platform waiting for the pilgrims to adjust their formation.

He was not in a hurry. Under the thick lenses of his helmet were tubes and wires. In the darkness, no one knew his face behind the lenses, and no one knew what he heard or saw.

The sound of chains came from the rear of the team—two soldiers were using their scabbards to push aside the last few hesitant ones. As everyone looked at the observer's helmet lens, the factory window suddenly darkened for a moment, and everyone saw a shadow pass across the observer's lens.

"Wha-what?!" "Silence!"

The observer seemed to be listening to something. He paced slowly, and the sound of his footsteps echoed in the factory and fell heavily on the hearts of every pilgrim.

"Boom, boom, boom."

He stopped in front of the blacksmith, his eyes swept over the other's muscular arms, and his skinny index finger drew a triangle on his chest.

"You! Come out!"

The soldiers immediately dragged the man out of the ranks. The blacksmith stumbled and knocked over the bronze candlestick.

"The Holy Spirit will cleanse your fear." The observer swept the blacksmith into a corner with his spear raised and continued walking. "The Lord is pleased with you! Don't worry, you will be of the greatest value on the Lord's battlefield."

"He will die on the battlefield! I'm here on a pilgrimage, not to join the army. You've deceived me!!"

The veteran Luce met realized that something was wrong and he shouted and wanted to leave the factory.

"Heretics! Do not disrespect the Lord!"

The observer raised his spear and threw it at the old soldier without hesitation!

"Ding--!"

The veteran's years of combat experience may not have allowed him to kill more enemies, but it certainly taught him how to avoid being killed by the enemy. He rolled and crawled to hide behind Luce. The spear grazed his lower abdomen and pierced into the ground, penetrating deep into the cracks between the bricks for dozens of centimeters!

"Ok?"

A disgruntled mechanical sound was faintly heard from beneath the iron helmet, and the lens of the observer's helmet suddenly flashed. Luce clearly saw a colorful vortex reflected in the center of the lens, which was very similar to the night sky she had seen as a child.

For some reason, the more she looked at the vortex, the more disgusted she felt, as if something was about to escape from the vortex - no, she saw it, she definitely saw it!

It was an eye! And from that vortex came wings, which were—

"Throne Angel..."

She murmured instinctively, even though she had never seen this monster before. The angel's eyes opened slightly, and a chilling gaze scanned the crowd through the lenses, then locked onto the veteran.

“Ugh—Ahhh!!!”

Luce observed the faces of the pilgrims around him. They seemed unable to see the terrifying eye. The old man looked nervously at the short spear in the observer's hand. The peasant woman and the blacksmith huddled in the corner looked at the soldiers in fear. The observer paused, then grabbed the short spear and threw it at Luce!

"Hey!!"

Luce didn't expect that he really wanted to kill her. She had never seen blood before and was so frightened that she staggered. But it was too late. She could only watch as the sharp spear pierced through her chain mail and pierced her heart.

"Pfft-"

The warm liquid splashed on her neck and the back of her head, and she touched her chest tremblingly.

There were no wounds. She hurriedly touched all parts of her body and found that everything was intact. But where did the bloody smell come from?

"Gu————"

The desperate whimpering behind her made her turn around. The old soldier covered his neck in disbelief. When she staggered in fear, the short spear just passed through the gap where her arm swung and pierced the old soldier's throat.

The old soldier tightly covered the wound on his throat, and blood spurted out uncontrollably, staining most of Luce's body red.

"He has been punished for his blasphemy, and you have nothing to fear." "But he—"

The observer patted Luce's shoulder, not caring about the blood on his hand. Seeing that Luce wanted to say something, he handed her a booklet and showed it to her:

"Those who die fighting for God, though their bodies decay, their souls remain in the trenches of heaven until the final battle..." (This is also recorded in the first chapter of this manual)

"The Almighty has revealed a glimpse of the future to me, and I will follow His instructions. He never harms the innocent, and your fall was foreseen by Him."

The observer comforted her and then prepared to move on to the next pilgrim, while everyone looked at him in fear.

Luce mustered up his courage and asked, "We are all here on a pilgrimage to Rome. Excuse me, Mr. Observer, what are you going to do?"

The observer stopped, as if he had not expected that a pilgrim would dare to ask him such a question. He walked up to Luce with interest and stared at her.

No, it wasn't him staring at her, but the thing reflected in the lens of the iron helmet...was it an angel? She didn't understand, but she could clearly see that the eyes in the lens were observing her, sizing her up.

It was as if everything about myself was exposed to the sight of that existence.

"you....."

A muddy cacophony of noises and mechanical electronic sounds intertwined. At that moment, she seemed to hear two—no! Many voices. They were watching her! The light around her began to dim. The figures of the pilgrims and soldiers became distorted in the candlelight. Indistinct whispers could be heard in the darkness beyond the candlelight's reach.

"You—can see me?"

The observer's head tilted down as if it had lost its support, but there was still a force that supported him to point the helmet lens at Luce. She guessed that this sentence was probably the thing in the lens asking her.

Her instincts were frantically warning her. Luce glanced around and felt as if she and the observer had left reality and were now in the world of the angels in the vortex. She felt a little scared.

"You...Observer, what are you talking about? Haven't you been standing right in front of me?"

"Ah...."

The monster stared at her meaningfully, and Luce knew that the thing knew she could see them.

“Squeak——” “Ouch!”

There was a sound of electricity, and the observer raised his head, grabbed Luce's shoulders tightly, and dragged her out!

"The Lord has new instructions for you! You will join the Tenth Plague procession and immediately head to God's battlefield to participate in the Eastern Expedition!"

The observer's voice was filled with unquestionable authority. He squeezed Luce's shoulders tightly, not allowing her to struggle, and threw her directly onto the truck waiting at the factory door.

"All remaining pilgrims, join the 'Pilgrims of Suffering' regiment and immediately proceed to the front lines to replenish our forces!"

“Yes! The glory of the Lord will shine upon the earth forever!”

Amid the roar of the truck engine, Luce watched helplessly as the holy city moved farther and farther away from her and gradually disappeared into the horizon of dawn.

----------------

Crusader General Staff in Rome

Pope Benedict's motorcade stopped quietly outside, and the Pope and several guards got out of the car under the guards' reverent gaze.

"Hail, Pope Benedict, Bishop of Rome, Vicar of Christ, Successor of the Lord and of the Apostles, High Priest, Patriarch of the West, Primate of Italy, Archbishop and Metropolitan of the Province of Rome, Head of the Papal States and Servant of the Servants of God!"