And as the mories gradually beca clearer in his mind, information about the "Temple Knights" slowly revealed itself in Leon's thoughts.
His family was not just a simple mafia family, but a special family with a long heritage.
Furthermore, a very, very long ti ago, their family belonged to the special organization called the "Knights Templar," and were even important mbers within it.
However, during a terrible disaster, the entire Church's supernatural system collapsed systematically, but under the protection of a group of people, his family ancestors managed to escape.
"Lord... please forgive my impudence, I shall forever believe in You!" Leon prayed.
It seed he had triggered his grandfather's token and been granted the power of a knight.
In his mories, knights served as one of the Church's main combat forces against heresy, and their power was naturally extrely powerful!
Even the most basic apprentice knights could resist ordinary swords and weapons, and now he had been directly promoted to the "formal knight" rank, possessing combat capabilities belonging to the knight class!
The most typical examples included physical recovery, skin hardening—while enhanced physical attributes were secondary, the most important thing was that a special "stigma" had appeared in his palm!
This was the Iris Light Seal. In Leon's mory, he clearly recognized that this stigma was the true reason he could return reborn!
It would authenticate the soul, and after the soul was truly confird, it would summon the "Lily Holy Flas" to guide his rebirth!
The pure white iris blood in his palm, the white light shining from it, the power revealed, and the sacred radiance ignited—all had confird his identity.
Leon clenched his fists tightly. The power within his body told him that all of this was real, not false!
He had truly transford from the last surviving mber of a mafia family into a secret guardian, an adherent of doctrine, and a steadfast protector of the future.
Leon knelt on the ground and began his prayer:
"Glorious Trinity,
Lord of Hosts, Forger of Shield and Sword!
As Psalm 91 proclaims:
Your na is a fortress for all generations, Your kingdom a crucible of tempering.
Please guide toward the path of radiant splendor!"
This was how knights should pray. In his mind, there existed such prayer rituals.
Leon couldn't see that as he chanted these words, his body was shimring under a hazy white light.
It was as if bathed in Holy Light, or as if blessed by heaven—regardless, he had indeed beco countless tis more devout than his forr self.
...
And such light also appeared in the eyes of the behind-the-scenes observer.
Angerboda Scott was the warden of Rikers Island Prison.
Of course, in every sense, he was also the uncrowned king of the prison.
After all, all authority in this prison was in his hands. The funding for this ten-thousand-inmate prison, various procurent rights, a series of extraterritorial rights, including dealings with various gangs or production by prison enterprises—all were part of his power.
Precisely because of this, Angerboda's control over the entire prison had reached a very pathological level!
These powers in his hands were clearly tangible Franklins, so of course he had to pay attention.
Thus, just minutes after the guards scread about a "ghost," he had already received the news.
He sat behind his desk, squinting at three terrified police officers, "You're saying that mafia mber who died in the square yesterday ca back to life? Right before your eyes?"
"Yes, sir! He was clearly dead all night, his blood practically drained, but he actually ca alive and could even speak!" the guard said loudly. "You can check the surveillance! We're not lying!"
Angerboda raised his hand, "Play the footage!"
The surveillance footage was pulled up on the computer before him, the square's surveillance recording retrieved at that mont and quickly fast-forwarded to the recent ti period.
Then, under the square's dim yellow lights, he saw Leon, who had lain as a "corpse" in the square for nearly a day, and the three guards carrying him.
As the guards moved, the surveillance video gradually shifted perspective, from inside the square to the square's edge.
Then, the three guards seed to encounter sothing unusual, suddenly screaming in alarm!
They dropped the "corpse," left the surveillance video's limits, and that corpse slowly stood up seconds later.
He stood there doing who knows what, but Angerboda could see the white light emanating from his body and the entire process of his translucent form slowly repairing itself within the glow!
The warden imdiately stood up, eyes fixed intently on this scene, feeling nothing but absurdity and strangeness.
No wonder the three guards ran so fast. Even if he were there, suddenly witnessing such a scene, running would be his first choice too!
But as the man in the footage moved, he soon disappeared from the cara, shattering the warden's desire to continue observing.
"Go, find him!" Angerboda said loudly. He could sense that this man must hold great secrets, and regardless, the man was his prisoner—he had special control over him.
Now, before the secret here spread, he had to use this ti to first get this man under his control.
Though he didn't know exactly what had happened to the man, it must be so mysterious encounter or certain special mystical objects.
In that instant, greed had already seized his mind. As warden, everything in this prison belonged to him, and this man was no exception.
If he could truly capture him, uncover the secret of this man's return from death...
This would be a wonderful opportunity!
A deep fanaticism appeared on Angerboda's face. Perhaps he could leap from this damned warden position to beco a truly major figure in this city.
Not like now, where despite being the esteed warden, he even had to fear certain gang mbers within the prison!
"Sir, this..." The guards had no desire for this, so their first thoughts turned to the various widely circulated "rumors" in this country.
Like various ghost stories, biological experints, and such. They also knew from movies the grueso deaths of those who actively sought out the mysterious, so of course they were unwilling to go.
But Angerboda had already stood up, "Execute the order! The gates are sealed now; he can't go anywhere. Go find him first!"
The guards had no choice but to agree for now.
However, the warden didn't expect that Leon wasn't trying to escape the prison or hide sowhere within it as they assud. Instead, he was very calmly walking toward the office building where they were.
Leon clearly rembered that during that terrible manhunt, all family mbers besides himself had been shot dead by police under the pretext of "resisting arrest."
Only he remained, escaping with the package his father gave him.
In fact, family matters had little to do with Leon. Ten years ago, after his brother's death, he had almost detached from the family, working and living alone in New York. He didn't participate in the business and had no contact with the family.
No wonder Borat Jones called him a "nice guy"—he was like a pure white lotus in a mafia family, almost untouched by any bloodshed.
But Leon hadn't planned to escape. Instead, he took the package, changed his identity, ca to this prison, found the traitor, and carried out the execution.
According to his initial plan, he would also die in the prison, so of course he hadn't prepared to take those things with him.
Although it was the family's greatest secret, with the family gone, the secret naturally lost its aning.
But now, everything was different.
He was no longer the last mber of the Rancocci family, the final executioner, but the inheritor of the Temple Knights, a mber of the Brotherhood!
He was no longer alone but had a new organization called the "Brotherhood," which was especially important for Italian mafia that valued "family" relationships!
Therefore, he needed to uphold the duty his family had guarded for centuries—to retrieve his package, retrieve the box inside it, and continue protecting it.
This ti, his heart was filled with hope.
After all, God's radiance had descended, the power of the Temple Knights had returned—so could the day of the Brotherhood's reconstruction be far behind?
"I will rebuild the family, I will restore the Lord's glory, I will... protect all of this!"
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