C9

"Heh, what a classic of the violence aesthetics." Little Spell looked at the red knight who was kneeling on one knee in front of him and sighed with emotion. A knight who could chew murder like food was not only loyal and brave but also eager to kill, like drinking dew.

"Why are you here?" Madame Joseph's voice became cold, as if she did not have the slightest good impression of this hero saving the beauty of the knight.

Then he picked up the short sword the assassin had dropped nearby and stabbed it into the poor boy's neck. The tip of the knife was very sharp, and it cut through the carotid artery in an instant.

The young assassin, who did not have a name, only twitched for a moment before he stopped struggling. At the last moment, his gaze became tranquil, and the hand holding onto his sleeve drooped down.

To this young man whose parents he did not know, Little Si Bo only said one sentence softly, "Dust to dust, ash to dust."

Hugo showed a trace of fear towards this decisive child, and even Lady Joseph's eyes were filled with surprise. It was not strange for nobles to kill people, but he was amazed at the fact that young Si Bol was only five years old and his method of killing was mature and practiced. Instead, he was like a soldier who was used to blood and killing.

"I just don't want him to die with regrets. It's too painful to die like this."

"A nobleman who does not know how to kill gracefully can never survive a court battle in Drumman."

The four of them rode away in the same carriage, looking back over their shoulders as they did so, leaving only Hamil kneeling on one knee among the corpses, like a demon in armor, a bloody opening in the brilliant moonlight of Drumman.

"You don't look very happy. Didn't you say that seeing her was the only reason why you were still planning to live in this world?" The spokesman of the Plague Apostle walked out of the dark shadows holding a pure white rose. His elegant tuxedo was incompatible with the blood that was everywhere. He walked up to a dead body, squatted down, and gently inserted the rose into the wound.

Hymin suddenly stood up and rushed to the Speaker and grabbed his collar, saying in a cold voice, "Camus, if you say one more word, I will guarantee that there will be one more corpse here."

The spokesperson narrowed his pretty eyes, lifted the corner of his mouth, and said, "Then I can guarantee that you will never be able to get back what you want. I would like to see whether the 12 Knights of an empire that were removed from the list are stronger, or the Plague Apostle's spokesperson is stronger. So please remove your dirty hands. "

After hesitating for a moment, Hymin finally released both her hands. After tidying up his clothes, Camus glanced at the bright red light left on his collar and said in disgust, "Such a boorish fellow."

"I've done what I helped you with. According to our agreement, you should have given me its whereabouts." Hymin jumped onto her horse and pulled at the reins as she spoke.

After a moment of silence, Hymin calmly said, "You are really the most despicable one among the twelve apostles, the dark apostle. "If I didn't need your help, I would have cut off your head long ago."

Despite being called despicable, Camus bowed slightly and said, "I am flattered."

In the end, even the blood was sucked dry by the seemingly living rose. Picking up the rose and putting it against his chest, he took out a piece of white silk and wiped his scarlet hands, then said, "I know that you have always been brooding over the name of the Twelve Paladins. The death of a hero like you is your true home, and not as a traitor."

Hymin stopped her horse and spoke without turning her head, "The honor of a Knight of the Twelve? Do you really think a ghost knight like me, who has lost everything, would care about such a name? I just want my soul back, and then I'll close my eyes and lie down in the grave and ask no more questions. I've lived too long, and I'm too tired. I don't want to talk about matters between you twelve apostles. "

"I'm afraid there's nothing you can do." Khamus sniffed the blood-red rose and said softly.

"You can also choose to wait and see." Hamil put away his spear and said in disdain.

— —

The Cathedral of St. Petersburg, in the eastern part of the Djurman Empire.

Draven, who had just taken over the position of Arch-Cardinal Hoyos, tidied up his luxurious red robe in front of the mirror, picked up the scepter that signified his identity as a bishop, and smiled towards the bright moon outside the stained-glass window. No matter how one looked at him, the old man in front of them seemed to be a kind and kind old man, not the deacon of the religion whose status was second only to the Black Emperor of the Ecclesiastical Tribunal.

The accidental death of Arch-Cardinal Hoyes had to be said to be due to the favor of the Goddess of Luck when she tossed the olive branch to the Ecclesiastical Tribunal. The position of Arch-Cardinal Hoyes, which was originally divided between the Church and the Temple, was finally taken over by the judge.

As he thought of this, a hint of piety appeared on his previously benevolent face, making him look even more holy. He drew a cross on his chest and muttered, "May God bless you, everything in this world can hear your teachings, Amen."

With a squeak, the window was opened by someone.

"What a pity. Tonight, there are people in the capital who did not listen to the Lord's teachings and used forbidden dark arts under his watch. As someone in power in the Ecclesiastical Tribunal, is it really okay to turn a blind eye?"

Archbishop Draven turned his head and saw a man in a black gentleman's tuxedo, wearing a pure white mask, standing in front of a stained-glass window.

The tall man walked up to Delevan, took off his delicate white gloves, and said sincerely, "Your Eminence, please forgive my recklessness. Tonight, the heretic from the Joseph family has finally revealed himself. The summons of the Demon Mi Feiste was something that could not be overstepped even if it were placed in the heretical Judgement Chamber. So I suggest that we arrest the poor Josef bastards immediately. I'd like to invite them to visit my water prison. "

"Sweat, that's not enough." Archbishop Draven caressed the ruby on the scepter and said carelessly, "If you want to overthrow the Joseph and Rothschild Families, just a small crime is useless. Do you really think that two families that haven't fallen in three hundred years haven't experienced any bloody battles?"

"Archbishop, if you go too far, then that old fellow in the Church will not sit idly by." Swaid warned carefully.

"As servants of the Lord, we are holy." Archbishop Draven picked up a delicate quill, wrote a name on a piece of paper, and pushed it in front of Swelter. "Holy servants are powerless against the filth of the dark, but we can use evil to eliminate evil, and our ultimate goal is to cleanse the world of all earthly sins. As for the means, that is only something that an idealistic poet should consider."

Swett picked up that exquisite piece of paper made by Molton, looked at the name of the family written on it, smiled, and said softly, "It is my honor to be of service to Master."