CH 113 Crazy

Hell, an abyss.

Terge was a lord of hell.

It hid in one of the abysses of hell, hiding its power in rocky beaches and black mists. At some point, it was able to release its incarnation into the human world through the cracks on the night of Saint Val, where the boundary between hell and the human world was blurred, devouring the lost in the wilderness.

But in hell, Terge was just an inconspicuous one among many lords.

What was hell?

Here was the place where all sins gather, the palace of evil. All creatures living in hell had blood and violence written into their flesh and bones from the moment they were born. In fact, bloody battles were fought in hell all the time.

Because hell was dead a long time ago, the dark red bloody curtain in the sky was the blood of hell.

When hell was not dead, there were endless undying dark forces, these forces were the source of many creatures in hell. But when Hell died, it became dry and barren, and even the creatures of Hell found it difficult and harsh to live in. There was always a fierce wind blowing in the wilderness that could grind the soul away little by little, and a murky odor that even they didn't want to ingest contained within the dark red sulfurous fire rain.

Those powerful demons that crawled out of the Wall of Insects could still be relatively free, but ordinary dead creatures, such as skeletons, could only dismantle themselves and spread themselves on the rocks, using slumber to resist the erosion of extinction.

The only better places were some gaps that could communicate with the mortal world——from those gaps, the evil thoughts of the mortal world could continue to pour in.

It was precisely because of this that the lords of hell were always fighting, killing, and taking over places. It could be said that this was the most primitive battlefield.

Terge was a Lord of Hell who had occupied a gap.

It successfully killed the lord next door with a tricky scheme three days ago, and expanded its territory a little. When spreading his lair, Terge looked greedily at the direction of his east, and its countless compound eyes were full of longing.

In the chaotic hell, the ownership of territories was changing almost all the time.

Except for one place——

The City of Blackstone.

There was the territory guarded by the lunatic who called himself a "soul merchant".

The Wall of Hundred Insects, the River of the Departed, the Peak of Thousand Knives, and the Royal City were all there. It could be said that it was the best place in the whole hell! There was the best sulfur lake, it was the closest to the gate of hell, and the Peak of Thousand Knives could block some fierce winds.

Most importantly, there was the "Blackstone Castle".

All hell lords coveted that castle, instinctively eager to occupy it, the highest authority in hell.

It was not that there were no lords who tried to snatch it for themselves.

In fact, the moment all the lords of hell gazed upon it, they would feel endless greed——all evil creatures wanted to occupy a higher and more terrifying authority, and that castle was the highest authority and most splendid palace in the entire hell. But for more than a thousand years, no other lord had been able to successfully step in there.

All the lords who tried to claim it failed.

Even in Hell, there had been so many battles over that castle that the scalps of all creatures tingled, and tremors rose from the depths of their souls.

Most of the higher creatures in hell possess special abilities, and their inheritance was engraved in memory, which they have possessed since birth. The older the race, the richer the memories.

Terge had seen some gruesome scenes in his inherited memory, which were the battles that broke out around the "Blackstone Castle".

——A swarm of black butterflies soared into the sky, drowning the tide-like army of bones. The terrible ancient lords who joined forces and the black-clothed Devil who claimed to be just a "soul merchant" fought in mid-air, and both sides used everything at their disposal. The final result of the battle was that the allied lords retreated, and the Devil in black stood on the tower of the castle, slowly wiping his sword.

It was just a pity that there were too few memories passed down, and it didn't know what had happened in hell a long time ago.

Only the oldest lords know about "Blackstone Castle" and everything it stood for. But even for them, that seemed to be a taboo that could not be mentioned.

For so long, all the hell lords yearned for the castle made of black stone and serpent bones, it was engraved in their nature, but there was always a veil over the past it represented.

Taboo, mystery, danger.

After peeking at the palace like a vicious dog salivating at bones, Terge while drooling prepared to return to his lair. However, just when it turned its countless compound eyes, a mutation happened.

A crack was suddenly torn open in the dark red sky of hell, and a blood-colored meteor fell from the crack, crashing towards the royal city.

The moment the meteor fell, the wind in the wilderness suddenly became violent, and the sound was as sharp as the wail of a banshee. The air vibrated, and the sulfur boiled, as if monstrous swelling water suddenly surged from a calm lake.

At the moment when the meteor was about to fall on the castle, on the Blackstone Castle, the serpent bones winding and entrenched on the mountain suddenly rose high, and all the pale and slender spurs were gathered in an instant, the serpent bones shifting in a strange and weird way. And at the moment when the meteor fell, the giant serpent's skull fully opened, and it let out a deafening roar towards the sky.

The roar was majestic and terrifying.

That was, a dragon's roar!

When he heard the dragon's roar, Terge suddenly understood one thing——the thing that was entrenched on Blackstone Castle was not a serpent's skeleton, but the bones of a dragon that had been mistaken for a giant serpent because of its enormous size and length!

That was the long neck and head of a dragon!

A flock of black butterflies soared into the sky in macabre dance, flooding that area, and the dragon's roar from the white bones echoed for a long time, the sound echoing the ancient times.

The whole hell was clamoring.

All the ancient beings woke up from their long sleep, and they roared in disbelief. All the sound waves gathered together, the ground shattered in countless places, and lava splashed, anger, fear…..all strong and complicated emotions erupted in an instant.

The black butterflies dispersed, and the King opened his eyes in the castle built on the skeleton of a dragon.

The moment he opened his eyes——

The Millennium Kingdom was brazenly opened.

………………

1433, spring.

"The Holy Lord forgave the sins of the world in this year, and we should repent with shame that we questioned God." The last court chronicler of the Bressi Kingdom used this sentence as the ending words of the dynasty record. After finishing writing, he bowed submissively to the silver cross in the room.

After the mighty miracle descended, the Black Death that instilled fear in the people disappeared.

At the moment when the angels appeared in the clouds, people's doubts about the Holy Court in recent years were blown away like dust on a diamond. The prestige of the Holy Court had reached an unprecedented peak. On the east side of the Abyss Strait, people flocked frantically to the embrace of God, knelt down in front of the priests, and kissed the backs of their feet.

After the miracle, the Pope walked out of the Acellia Cathedral to the cheers of all the people who greeted him.

King Charles knelt at the Pope's feet, took off his crown, and offered it to the Pope on both hands. The moment the secular crown overlapped with the divine crown, the Kingdom of God, was born.

The Kingdom of Bressi was history, replaced by:

"The Holy Empire".

On the first day of the establishment of the Holy Empire, the Pope announced that the divine calendar would be implemented from now on, and 1433 would be changed to the first sacred year. Silver crosses hung from all government offices.

The Pope, or the Emperor of the Holy Empire, the first thing he did after his coronation was to cleanse the heresy.

……………………

Holy Empire, Pete Town.

In a hotel, a handsome poet with a sad face dipped in ink to write a letter.

"Dear Annie:

Forgive me for calling you "Annie", you know my current situation. I must be careful, I must not leave any traces for them to find you. As long as there is even a ten thousandth of danger, I would not bring them to you——you know, I am willing to give up my life for you.

I don't know if I'm crazy or if the world is crazy.

Alby, my friend, had been put to death——for heresy! ! !

God! Alby, he was so kind, he could recite the holy book backwards, how could he be a heretic! They burned him just because he protested when that stupid and greedy priest Tom became the country lord of Collin.

.....Floggers are also considered heretics, but they are just devout believers who do nothing but chant and flog themselves——is it a sin to refuse luxury? I don't know why.

Can you believe it? I have seen many people who are extremely fanatical, but their fanaticism terrifies me.

.....I believe in the Holy Lord, I believe in the Holy Lord, but are they really right? My dear lady, please be careful, anyone who behaves a little out of the ordinary may be considered a witch and a heretic these days.

I watched heresies increase day by day, and witches seem to be everywhere, but I dare not say anything.

I think they're close to finding me.

.....

What more can I say?

Will I be able to write tender love poems for you again? Will I still be able to touch your eyebrows?

What should the nightingale sing for now?"

Just when he was about to write his name, the door of the room was smashed open.

The poet was startled at first, then subconsciously grabbed a pile of manuscripts on the table and tucked the unfinished letter into his clothes. When he had just finished all this, the knights of the Inquisition dragged him out.

The fire rack was erected in the square of the town, and the inquisitors were dressed in black robes that symbolized the sacred majesty. They held the holy book in their hands, and devout believers had already surrounded them.

The poet was not alone in being judged together.

There were also old merchants, young virgins, blind old women who make a living from massaging people…..

The first to be judged was the poet.

The inquisitor held up a scroll with transcribed verses: "We hurt the weak who are innocently despised/We turned out to be servile executioners/We want are utterly foolish, a tribute to bull-headed stupidity/We kissed dumb fools and express infinite worship/We bless the glimmer of corruption…..How dare you write such blasphemous and sinful words?"

"I have not blasphemed the Lord." The poet tried to defend himself, but his voice was drowned in the angry reprimands of the crowd.

The crowd shouted loudly:

"Burn this heretic!"

"Sinner! Go to hell!"

"Burn him!"

…...

The stone hit his face, blood flowed down, and the poet lowered his head in despair.

The interrogation continued.

"You have been accused of dealing with the devil. You wandered around at night because you were guided by evil spirits, didn't you?" The priest asked the terrified little girl.

The little girl choked: "I don't, I don't know."

"She lies! The red mark on her face is a contract with hell!" The accuser in the crowd shouted.

The poet turned his head and saw that the little girl had a red birthmark on her face.

"You lack repentance!"

The inquisitor shouted angrily.

The little girl burst into tears.

The poet looked around——the potbellied priest with a gorgeous jeweled ring was sitting in the mayor's place, and everyone knew he was just a greedy fool; the young girl sobbing fearfully…..Fury swept over him and suddenly he broke free from the knight holding him, and stood up:

"She is innocent!"

The crowd booed.

How could one heretic justify another witch?

Small stones came from all directions, and the poet was the first to be dragged to the stake, and the papers of poems in his arms were scattered all over the place in the struggle.

"She is innocent!"

"She's not a witch!"

"That accuser just wants a reward!"

…...

He was still yelling.

The person who reported the little witch was full of anger: "He's crazy! He's a lunatic!"

The priest delivered his sentence:

"David and Sibylah testify;

The world will melt in fire,

That day is the day of God's wrath,

When judgment comes in the future,

Everything will be cross-examined and strictly settled

How I shall tremble!"

The knight threw the flaming torch on the young poet. A piece of poem draft flew up, and the poet saw his own words. At the moment when the fire rose, he let out a mournful wail.

He wailed, because the scarlet fire and pain distorted his face, but he still repeated to everyone:

"She's not a witch! We're not sinners!"

"You are the ones who are sinners! You are the ones who are wrong!"

Under his wailing, the people trampled over his poems, no one paid attention to what was written on them, but cursed angrily:

"He's crazy!"