Chapter 883 My Magic Does Not Come From the Holy See (the Strong Sea Monster Will Be Rewarded with More Rewards)

Jean Madeleine was wandering around the church.

He felt bad before Bishop Miria left. 3,000 pounds of millet, what’s the use of 3,000 pounds? That’s more than half less than the number required by the mission!

If the villagers hand over food, they will definitely be beaten to death; even if it is the bishop, he will not be able to get away with it if he falls into the hands of those guys who eat people without spitting out their bones!

"Bishop, Bishop, please take away the grains in the cellar! Let's pass this level first! Only after you save it can you rescue others!"

He stopped in front of him and begged. His lips were worn out and his saliva was dry. Bishop Miria just smiled:

"The Lord said that you must treat others with integrity and do not deceive those who trust you. Gene, what those villagers entrusted to me was not only seeds, but also the hope of surviving next year, and their trust in the Lord."

And this kind of trust cannot be betrayed no matter what.

Jean tried to persuade them to no avail, and could only watch the villagers loading bags of grain into the cart, pushing them away after the bishop. He hesitated, hesitated again, then suddenly stomped into the room, took out a pair of silver candlesticks, and stuffed them into the bishop's arms:

"Sir, take this with you! Just in case, just in case..."

He couldn't go on. However, from the smiling eyes of Bishop Miria, he could see that the other party understood what he meant:

In case the superiors are angry, having such a valuable thing can protect you from suffering...

"Haha, I won't take it." However, under Jean's expectant eyes, the old man still pushed the candlestick back:

"This is your thing, what should I do with it?"

"This is yours! You gave it to me!"

Jean growled at the top of his lungs. Bishop Miria smiled even more kindly:

"This is the price I paid for redeeming your soul and handing it over to the Lord. Gene, promise me to keep it. Every time you see it, you must remember your agreement with the Lord."

"Yes, Lord Bishop, I will definitely remember..."

Gene nodded repeatedly. He held the candlestick tightly with his thick fingers, and after a moment of prayer, a faint white light rose from the candlestick. Bishop Miria nodded slightly and smiled more kindly:

"This puts me at ease. Remember, remember the Lord's mercy, and don't fall into darkness!"

He never came back. Gene held the pair of silver candlesticks and watched the motorcade meander away, leaving only two deep ruts;

Watch the sun rise from the beginning to the zenith, and then gradually set from the zenith to the west;

Watching a pair of cavalry showing off their skills, rushing into the church and rummaging around;

Then he watched the second group of people arrive and take away all the food in the church cellar...

Subconsciously, he wrapped the silver candlestick in his arms with the rags used to wipe the floor, and pressed it under him.

The cellars were cleared and the cavalry came and went. Gene huddled in the corner of the empty cellar, his eyes dull. After an unknown amount of time, he was shaken awake by two anxious villagers:

"What are you still doing here? Bishop Miria, they are going to burn him to death!"

Gene jumped up, hugged the wrapped silver candlestick, and rushed out quickly.

Huchi, wheeze. He didn't know how long he ran, but he only knew that he was as strong as the knight and his lungs almost exploded. Close, close, the stern military camp is close, the tent of Shenghui is close——

what is that?

What is that billowing column of black smoke? !

Why were there so many people crowded around the black smoke? Why were several villagers he knew kneeling and crying in the distance? !

"You're late...Jean, you're late..."

Among the villagers who knelt and cried, there were the two leaders who came to store wheat on that rainy night. They only shouted this, then buried their heads and burst into tears.

Jean looked at them blankly. For a long time, he let out a long howl. He took out the pair of candlesticks, tore off the rags on them like crazy, and rushed straight to the entrance of the camp:

"Bishop Miria is innocent! Innocent!" He raised the candlestick high and let the light of the setting sun shine on it, making it brilliant:

"It's me, it's me! It was me who secretly sold the army rations in exchange for these candlesticks! Let him go! Let him go..."

"well……"

A soft sigh sounded from the camp gate. Then, a white light as thick as a bowl shot straight out, hitting Jean on the chest and sending him and the candlestick flying out.

"Law: Confinement."

A clear drink. Gene suddenly felt his whole body stiff, unable to get up, speak, or even move his fingers. The robes were fluttering in the camp, and a bishop dressed similarly to Miria walked out and looked down at him:

"Miriya was not executed because of a lack of military rations. Don't yell, stay away, and don't be arrested by them together - do you understand? Just blink your eyes when you understand. When the burning is over, you can come and collect his body."

Gene didn't understand. But he knew that this strange bishop had his own good in mind. Moreover, Bishop Miria cannot live without a body collector...

He blinked obediently. The bishop sighed softly, turned and left. After a long while, Gene finally felt that he could move his hands and feet and got up.

He retreated, retreated, hugging the candlestick tightly, retreating further than the villagers. Then, staring at the high pile of firewood in the distance, he let out a long howl and knelt down:

"The bishop is innocent! He is innocent! Look, the Holy Light! He still has the Holy Light on him! You are burning a saint to death!"

He grabbed the ground with his head, and the trombone continued. Maybe it was because he was too far away, or maybe it was because someone had told him that no one in the military camp came out to pay attention to him.

Until the flames gradually extinguished, until there were fewer and fewer people around the Mars Shelf, finally there were only a few soldiers left. Jean cautiously approached and discussed with them:

"Brother...can you do it for me and let me collect the body?"

"roll roll roll!"

The squad leader guarding the execution site blasted him impatiently. Gene took a step back, smiled more respectfully, and bent lower:

"Brother, please be kind... After all, you are also a member of the Holy See. Even if you die, leaving your body in the wilderness like this will damage the majesty of the Holy See..."

"What majesty?"

The squad leader raised his eyes. He had been exposed to the smoke all afternoon. He was hot, smelly, and choked, and he was feeling irritable. He rubbed his fingers impatiently, but seeing no reaction from the man in front of him, he raised his voice and yelled:

"If a heretic is burned to death, what dignity is there? Do you still want to collect his body? Tell me, are you an accomplice of the heretic?"

The voice got louder and louder. Sure enough, as soon as he finished the last sentence, someone shouted and asked:

"what's the situation?"

"Sir, there is a heretic accomplice here!"

The squad leader reported loudly. There were heavy steps behind him, and a knight with clanging armor strode forward. He glanced around majestically and snorted coldly:

"That's him? Take it down!"

The squad leader responded and stepped forward to arrest the person. In a flash of lightning, Gene finally reacted and quickly fell to the ground. He raised the pair of candlesticks high and prayed secretly, so that a little holy light would shine on them:

"Sir! Please have mercy, sir! This is a little man's heart. Please contribute it to God and give the bishop some dignity!"

The knight said "Hey" and waved his hand. The two soldiers stopped immediately. The squad leader took away the pair of candlesticks and bowed before the knight:

"Sir, look at this..."

"This poor guy in the country is quite rich." The knight muttered quietly, put his hands behind his back, and walked away slowly. The squad leader hurriedly followed up holding a silver candlestick. Behind him, a group of soldiers followed, and soon there were no defenders around the execution ground.

Jean collapsed on his knees, watching the holy light on the candlestick slowly dim and fade away. His eyes also darkened little by little, as if his agreement with Bishop Miria and the agreement with the Lord of Glory were also far away from him——

"Hey, kid!" The captain stared at the candlestick in his hand unwillingly and suddenly stopped. He thrust the candlestick into the soldier's hand, took three steps at a time, and returned to Jean:

"Don't even think about burying him in a church cemetery! Heretics like him - and heretical assistants like you - are subject to excommunication and excommunication!"

Jean's eyes were empty and blank. It wasn't until everyone was gone that he let out a long howl, threw himself on the woodpile, and started digging with all his hands:

"Your Majesty the Bishop! Your Majesty the Bishop! Your Majesty the Bishop..."

The fire went out, but the ashes were still hot. Gene, however, seemed to have no feeling at all. He knelt on the pile of ash and dug down hard with his hands. Pick up a handful of ashes and put them next to you, then pick up a handful of ashes and put them next to you...

Within two strokes, the fingers and palms were scalded with blisters, and after two strokes, the skin and flesh were torn apart. Gene didn't care, and dug in the ashes wholeheartedly. After a while, he picked up a bone from the ashes and burst into tears:

"Your Majesty the Bishop! Your Majesty the Bishop..."

The vast majority of human bones have been reduced to ashes and particles under the blazing flames with the addition of divine magic, mixed in the firewood ash, and cannot be identified. However, the bone that Gene held up was complete in shape, hard and solid, and glowed with a faint silver light.

In the cathedral that the bishop took him to worship, and in the stories that the bishop told him, this is the holy bone that can only be condensed by those who have become saints.

"He is a saint... The one you burned to death is really a saint..."

He fell down on the woodpile and cried bitterly. It took a long time before the villagers who had the courage to step forward pulled him up and persuaded him to get down from the pyre. He held the sacred bone in his hand and watched in confusion as the villagers shoveled away the ashes and put them into the wooden box——

"Jean! Your hands!—Treat yourself!"

Gene came to his senses dazedly. He lowered his head and looked at his fingers, closed his eyes silently, and prayed softly. Once, twice, no matter how many times, no light of healing fell on my fingers.

"Oh...I'm a heretic." He said softly, grinning. The smile gets bigger and bigger, more and more terrifying:

"I am an assistant to heretics. People like me will be excommunicated and excommunicated... I can't use magic..."

He stood up unsteadily, took the wooden box from the villager, put the holy bones into the box and closed it. Holding the box, one foot deep, one foot shallow, and heading into the wilderness:

"Mr. Bishop, I will take you to find a cemetery... Find a cemetery... The cemetery next to the church is not open for burials... Let's find a good one..."

He walked slowly away in the dusk. Behind them, a group of villagers looked at each other, pulling carts behind them. After walking through a night and half a day, Jean suddenly looked up and found that he had reached a village near the church:

"Priest Madeleine, bury the bishop here." Two villagers came up timidly and spoke:

"Here is the cemetery of our village. Generations of our ancestors are buried here...it is not as good as the church. Please don't dislike it..."

"Dislike it? I don't despise it, and neither will the Bishop." Jean lowered his head and stroked the surface of the wooden box, leaving a stain of blood and black ash on it:

"Just here, it's very good here, very good..."

Without much greeting, the villagers had already gathered at the cemetery. Those who dig pits dig pits, and those who pick up rocks pick up rocks. Even children as young as three or four years old helped to pull out the surrounding weeds under the guidance of adults.

Gene leaned down and put the wooden box containing the sacred bones into the tomb surrounded by a circle of stones. Someone immediately helped fill it with soil. After everything was completed, someone brought a little boy over:

"Priest of Madeleine, could you please take a look at the child... This child has been burning for two days..."

"But, I no longer have any healing skills." Gene lowered his head and stretched out his hand. On my hands, the skin was charred and the flesh was rotten. After a day and a night of delay, pus had already leaked out in some places:

"I am a heretic. They said that I will be excommunicated and punished with excommunication...I can no longer use healing..."

There was a chorus of lamentations. Suddenly, the strongest young man in the village spat fiercely:

"They said you can't, so why can't you?! The Lord of Glory really wanted to watch, and he didn't even strike them to death with a thunderbolt! The Lord of Glory didn't watch, so why did they say you can't?!"

"yes!"

"Yeah yeah!"

Jean Madeleine slowly raised his eyes. A little light gradually lit up in his empty eyes:

It was the tombstone of Bishop Miria, an ordinary wooden board with the words "A good man is buried here" written in his own hand on it;

Those are the sacred bones in the wooden box. Even if they are buried in ashes, they still glow with a faint silver light;

That is the holy light that never goes out in the flames and black smoke of the torture rack until death!

"They said I couldn't. But, they, what are they?!"

He suddenly raised his hand. Bend your arms, return your wrists, and draw a circle on your chest. Dot seven points around the circle:

In an instant, bright holy light burst out from the palms of his scorched flesh. Wherever it goes, wounds heal and eschar falls off:

"My faith and my magic come from the Lord of Glory, not from the Holy See!!!"

****

I cried several times while writing about myself today...

With tears streaming down my face, I stretched out my paws, asking for subscriptions, monthly tickets, recommendation votes, book reviews, and all kinds of things...

ps: Jean Valjean, his name was Madeleine when he was mayor

This morning I went to five nucleic acid sites for nucleic acid testing. Four of them queued for more than half an hour (possibly more than an hour). According to nearby security, one of the nucleic acid workers got into an argument with someone else and left. Don't do it

I:……

Reader: Fortunately, I didn’t kill Hua Xiong while the wine was warm, otherwise he would not come back until the wine had cooled down. When asked, it took Hua Xiong five minutes and half an hour to pass the nucleic acid test before entering the camp...

But things were much better this afternoon. Two of the three nucleic acid sites I passed by only had a few people, and the queue time was visually within two minutes.

Hope things get better...