PS brings today’s update. By the way, we are collecting votes for Qidian 515 Fan Festival. Everyone has 8 votes. If you vote, you will also receive Qidian coins. I beg you all for your support and appreciation!
"Sing praises! Sing praises to the name of Tire!"
Roland's prayers rumbled in the sky like thunder. Dazzling golden holy light poured out from Roland, clinging to the surrounding buildings like flowing flames.
The golden ring on his left hand shines brightly. At this moment, no one can question Roland's sanctity.
People shouted the name of "Your Majesty" feverishly, knelt on the ground in ecstasy and loudly praised the miracle of Tire, and kissed the ground where Roland walked, as if honey and milk were flowing on it.
Amid the fanatical shouts and praises of the people, Baskerville, who had broken free from the madness, followed Roland step by step, his face calm and comfortable.
He was not looking at Roland. To be precise, he was looking at something between him and Roland.
If your perception is high enough, you can realize what is actually there.
At first glance, he even recognized it as a twilight thing, but after calming down, Baskerville immediately recognized that it was actually a silhouette of the sleeping mentor.
That huge, dim figure is purer and greater than Tyr and N'Zoth. He is the origin of the world and the holder of authority.
That is the Lord of the Crown, the King of the Earth!
In Baskerville's vision, everything in front of him was completely different from ordinary people.
Roland's body shone with silver-white flames, and two spiral wings of light pierced out from behind Roland.
What Baskerville was watching was the looming behemoth appearing behind Roland.
It was a priest figure that seemed to be sewn from sand. It had its hands clasped together in a praying posture and was sewn to its chest with threads, while the black robe that covered its calves was wildly thrown back under the howling wind.
Flying, forming an inverted triangle shape.
In the dim yellow sandstorm, the priest doll disappeared and reappeared at any time. The sand and dust flowed in the air like water, spiraling up or down, forming a barrier-like storm around Roland.
On Roland's head, a crown loomed, synchronized with the appearance of the dim yellow doll behind him.
Invaded by that hallucination, Baskerville even felt like he was moving forward against the strong wind. The dim yellow sand hit his face. Although it didn't hurt, there was definitely a pressure to move forward.
However, Baskerville was happy at this time.
His frantic soul finally calmed down. The half-true and false "truths" that always emerged in his heart completely disappeared, and the whispers that always sounded in his ears completely subsided. He could even feel the distortion of his already twisted soul.
It was repairing at an extremely slow speed under the silvery white halo.
Before his death, Baskerville found the tranquility he dreamed of.
Although his mentor asked him to give his loyalty to Roland, Baskerville knew that he would do so even if his mentor didn't tell him.
Roland was the one who rescued him from endless madness and hallucinations. He was Baskerville's savior. Baskerville's heart was moved and pious at this time, even far more than the grace that saved him from death.
Zos.
Madness. Or death? After thirty years of painful choices, Baskerville regained peace. At that moment, Baskerville almost burst into tears.
There is no doubt that Roland is his savior. If anyone said that Roland was not his savior at this moment, Baskerville would rush forward and cut his throat without hesitation.
Therefore, Baskerville also sang the name of Tire loudly and devoutly along with the believers kneeling on the ground.
One street, two streets. The news of the new pope's appearance spread across Frankfurt faster than the fastest plague. People rushed out of the houses one after another, watching the distance or not far away turn into a golden color.
The sky couldn't help but hide its face and cry.
They sobbed, howled loudly, and knelt on the ground praying quietly. The believers drew a triangle in front of themselves with trembling hands, and then slowly and solemnly pressed their hands on their chests.
What kind of pope election, what kind of saint killing people, these things are no longer important at this time. The Holy City has its Pope again, and people have not realized the consequences of this incident, so they reveal their own intentions without any concealment.
ecstasy.
As Roland prayed and walked by, dark golden traces remained on the ground. People kissed the ground devoutly and then kowtowed to Roland, prayed to Roland, and used their cheeks to confirm the temperature remaining on the dark golden ground. Then, an inexplicable feeling
A sense of peace and happiness filled their hearts.
Then, more and more people followed Roland. The elderly, men, women, and children followed Roland neatly and orderly, as if they were on a pilgrimage.
There were not many people at the beginning. But the crowd seemed to have some kind of suction, causing more and more people to gather. This silent, agreed-upon collective action was as contagious as the plague, even making people who were not pious originally
people also subconsciously joined the growing team.
As the crowd gathered into a sea, Roland's trajectory became an arrow, pointing very clearly in the direction of the dome cathedral.
Finally, some people inside the Dome Cathedral began to notice the crowd of people outside the church, and immediately realized the seriousness of the matter. However, less than 20 minutes had passed since Roland performed his miracle, and the cardinals were scattered throughout the cathedral.
corner, just gathering them is a difficult task.
"This is blasphemy! This is blasphemy!"
When an archbishop in white heard this, he slapped the table several times angrily and even blew his gray beard: "It has only been three days since the ring ceremony began! The final result has not been released yet! Even if he is the pope,
You cannot interfere with the decision of the Council of Cardinals! The Pope has been deposed!"
"...But, sir. Now everyone in the Holy City knows that the Pope is coming. If we don't let him in, I'm worried..."
"Are you worried that believers will start a riot? Stop joking, we are the bishops!"
The Archbishop stood up suddenly, his face full of rage: "I'm going to stop him! I'm going to stop that countryman. The position of the Pope must not be held by an outsider! He doesn't know anything! He will destroy us!"
"
"Wait, Archbishop..."
The recorder had only finished speaking when the archbishop ignored his outstretched hand, slapped the table and rushed out of the room.
At this time, the reporter's face was full of worry and confusion.
He was the first person to discover Roland's existence.
He was just a small clerk, but at this time he had no choice but to get involved in the war between the cardinals and the new pope.
If he is not careful at all, he will be crushed to pieces in an instant.
He was beginning to regret now. Could it be that the right choice was to let the new pope enter the dome cathedral directly without revealing anything?
"Don't be stupid..."
His face was pale, and he leaned against the wall and murmured: "What kind of bishop, what kind of archbishop... Crazy people don't care about this at all..."
The reporter came from a small town. He had witnessed a terrible riot with his own eyes.
Numbers increase courage and animality.
At this time, all the people in the city are gathered here, plus the young pope, it is the power of thousands of people, an invincible force
They can destroy anything. They dare to destroy anything.
Whether it is morality, law, or the flesh and blood of a mere bishop
