“Perfect place, perfect food, perfect service. I had no idea such perfect enjoyment existed in the world. It’s like I don’t want to leave,” Leo said, clearly satisfied.
The vampire beauty smiled brightly. “Our leader has brought unprecedented honor to the Dark Clan. This kind of enjoyment is nothing compared to that.”
In the pope’s palace, in a luxurious and majestic bedroom that seemed like heaven, Grelio stood in front of a large half-finished oil painting, deep in thought.
The painting wasn’t yet complete. Grelio held a brush in one hand and a palette in the other, staring off into space.
He seemed to be facing a creative block and was fully immersed in trying to solve it.
Suddenly, someone quietly lifted the curtain of the bedroom door and tiptoed inside.
The four bishops guarding the door turned to see that it was Cardinal Owen.
“Your Excellency Owen,” the four bishops quickly bowed and made the sign of the cross on their chests.
“Hmm, is His Majesty still deep in thought?”
“Yes, it’s his old habit. Whenever His Majesty encounters a difficult part of his painting, he can ponder over it for ages,” one of the bishops whispered back.
Owen couldn’t help but smile wryly to himself: His Majesty is too obsessed with his art.
Given the gravity of the situation, Owen decided to interrupt Grelio’s artistic reverie. He waved the four bishops away and then stepped forward quietly.
“Your Majesty, please forgive my intrusion,” Owen said apologetically.
Grelio had actually noticed Owen’s entrance but was too engrossed in his art to acknowledge him.
Seeing no response from Grelio, Owen felt a bit awkward and called out again, “Your Majesty, please forgive my intrusion.”
“What is it?” Grelio finally turned around, clearly displeased at being interrupted.
“Barnard has returned,” Owen said cautiously.
“Hmm?” The pope didn’t quite understand at first.
“Barnard has returned from Albion.”
This time Grelio understood, his brow furrowing slightly. “So soon? Is everything resolved over there?”
Owen hesitated before sighing deeply. “The situation is very bad. It’s best if he explains it to you himself.”
A sense of foreboding washed over Grelio. “Where is he?”
“Right outside.”
“Let him in.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Owen turned around and called out, “His Majesty summons Barnard.”
Barnard lifted the curtain and walked in with a troubled expression.
“Your Majesty, I have failed in my mission and seek your forgiveness,” Barnard began by admitting his fault.
“Speak. What happened?” Grelio’s voice was deep and intimidating.
“Cedric and his Royal National Church Knights, along with the Anchorite, have all fallen.”
“What!? That’s impossible!” Grelio lost his usual composure, his face showing utter shock.
While knights and Anchorites were not irreplaceable to Grelio, Cedric was different. He was a sub-saint of the Church-how could he have fallen?
“Though it’s heartbreaking, it’s an undeniable fact,” Barnard said with a hint of panic. “Your Majesty, the dark world has issued the bloodiest declaration of war against the Church.”
Though Grelio had his differences with Cedric, he now felt a pang of sorrow akin to losing a comrade. “Lord, may Cedric find peace in heaven and enjoy Your glory.”
Seeing Grelio’s sadness, both Owen and Barnard fell silent.
After a long pause, Grelio’s expression gradually calmed down, regaining his god-like authority and composure.
Owen cautiously said, “Your Majesty, the Dark Clan has grown stronger than ever. We must prepare ourselves.”
“Despicable dark creatures,” Grelio said angrily, his eyes flashing with cold light. “I will make sure the Dark Clan is wiped off the face of this world! Issue my decree: declare war on the dark world!”
As Owen and Barnard were about to leave, Grelio suddenly said, “Wait.”
“Your Majesty, what are your orders?”
“The Church’s lost relics must be found at all costs!”
“Rest assured, Your Majesty. We will do everything in our power to prevent the relics from falling into the hands of the Dark Alliance.”
“Alright, go now.” Grelio waved them off and returned to his contemplation.
Not long after Owen and Barnard left, Grelio hurried back to his unfinished painting. He picked up his brush and added some color to a blank area.
Soon, a perfect oil painting emerged, with a majestic and towering mountain peak filling the previously empty space.
Satisfied, Grelio put down his brush and drew a circle in front of him with his right hand.
A bright Holy Light flashed within the room, forming a luminous and peaceful halo.
Inside this bright halo appeared a large mountain that quickly zoomed in to reveal an ancient castle.
The castle zoomed in further to show a spacious prayer room inside.
In the prayer room were three elderly monks with white hair and devout expressions, praying earnestly.
Grelio spoke respectfully, “May the Lord bless you, my esteemed elders.”
These three elderly monks were not ordinary people; they were former cardinals who had survived the last dark war and had since retreated to a mountaintop sanctuary.
Facing such venerable figures of the Church, Grelio couldn’t help but show respect.
One of the elderly monks opened his eyes and smiled. “Simon greets Your Majesty.”
“Stanley greets Your Majesty!”
“Terrace greets Your Majesty!”
Despite their seniority, these devout monks showed great respect for the current pope.
“It’s been many years. How have you been?” Grelio asked kindly.
Simon smiled as he stroked his white beard. “We’re well. Though we’ve all passed a hundred years of age, we’re still relatively healthy.”
“My intuition tells me that Your Majesty has something important to discuss,” Terrace said confidently.
“Elder Terrace, you are correct.” Grelio’s face turned serious. “A new dark war has begun!”
Upon hearing this, the elderly monks’ expressions changed dramatically.
Simon looked pained. “Must such tragedies happen again in this world?”
“Despicable dark creatures-they seek to create more sin,” Stanley said sorrowfully as he made the sign of the cross on his chest.
“Your Majesty, do you need our help?” Terrace asked calmly.
“Yes,” Grelio nodded. “The Dark Alliance has come with unprecedented ferocity and strength. Even Cedric has fallen.”
The elderly monks were shocked-Cedric had fallen? He was second only to the pope in strength!
“The Royal National Church Knights and Anchorite have also fallen,” Grelio added sorrowfully.
The elderly monks were once again stunned and deeply saddened.