He puffed up his chest and shouted loudly,
"You liar! Usurping the na of God! Spokesperson of the Devil!"
As his words fell, no one knew who shut up first, but within monts, the noise in the hall steadily quieted down, and the priests beca suddenly silent, staring at the unbelievable scene.
This priest had slapped the Emperor in front of thousands of people?!
Not only that, but he also verbally insulted the Emperor loudly, calling him the Devil’s spokesperson.
The hall abruptly fell silent. Although among the priests, it was not uncommon to insult the Emperor, it was only verbal, and no one would physically attack the Emperor. Several servants watching from a distance were instantly stunned by the scene. How dare he do such a thing to the ruler of the Empire?
Veldor watched dumbfoundedly. He realized that this priest was the one who proclaid the Prophecy of the Savior.
The priest had left an impression on him with his fervent defense previously, and now, with his fierce action, that impression beca indelible.
Constantine VI was dazed by the slap. He knew very well what that "miracle" was and had intentionally allowed the disgruntled priests to vent, but he had never anticipated that soone would hit him and give him a slap.
The priest turned around, faced the Great Shepherd Danschel, and pointed at the Emperor,
"Great Shepherd, condemn him, he has lied! He has lied in the na of God!"
Great Shepherd Danschel watched the scene, puzzled, his elderly face suddenly paled, and he opened his mouth, not knowing what to say.
The Emperor finally snapped back to reality, shaking with anger, and he ordered the guards,
"Seize him! Seize him! Seize this damned creature!"
The guards finally ca to their senses and rushed to the throne, pinning the priest to the ground in two or three moves, then dragging him out of the hall.
The priest struggled desperately, repeatedly demanding the Shepherd to condemn the Emperor while continually spitting at the Emperor as he was dragged away.
"A farce, a farce!"
Constantine VI muttered resentfully after the priest had left the hall.
The Queen stood frozen in place, taking a long ti to recover, and called for a Maid to bring a handkerchief to wipe the spit off the Emperor.
As the atmosphere in the hall gradually cald, the Emperor took the opportunity to declare the end of today’s Great Council, but by the ti most of the priests had left, Veldor was still sowhat dazedly sitting in his original seat.
"Has he gone mad?"
Veldor murmured,
"As the Angels bear witness, I think he might have gone mad."
Beside him, the Bishop spoke, his voice still carrying a hint of astonishnt.
Veldor breathed heavily, his aged body stirred up, the young priest’s actions had greatly shocked him.
Life is short, not worth sacrificing for a great cause.
That’s what he thought, and that’s what he did, and so, during the Great Council, he cast mostly abstention votes.
However, the young priest’s actions, for so reason, shook his long-held values.
It was like, an elderly man disillusioned with life, seeing a passionate youth, fearlessly sticking to the truth, opposing the powerful.
"What is his na, what is his na?"
Veldor repeated several tis, the Dwarf’s lengthy beard trembling,
"I want to find him, I want to find him."
He felt an urge to find the priest, continually surging within him.
The Bishop exclaid,
"You want to find him? God! Why do you want to find him?"
Why he wanted to find him, Veldor couldn’t clearly say, but he felt that he had to find him.
Blood surged, Veldor trembled and stood up from his seat, a compelling force making his old fra creak slightly.
This creak, so extraordinary, as if aged gears strained to turn.
..............
"Your Majesty! Blessedly anointed Emperor! All is well now; we triumphed greatly; after the Great Council ends, everything will be as calm as settled olive oil..."
Great Shepherd Danschel was patiently consoling the Emperor of the Empire, speaking while his old arms trembled.
He had seen just how much humiliation Constantine VI had endured.
This humiliation, placed on an Emperor, was more heart-wrenching than ten defeats combined.
Constantine VI looked sinister, silent at the mont, while a Maid continuously wiped his swollen face with an ice cloth, showing that the young priest had hit hard.
"That damned creature, Lord of the world, curse him! May he die a terrible death!"
The Grand Steward cursed the priest who had publicly slapped the Emperor, his castrato voice shrieking.
Great Shepherd Danschel tried to soothe the Emperor’s anger and once again emphasized victory,
"Your Majesty, we have won. The most critical issue was passed, and under the Lord’s witness, we will be granted the highest authority to unify the True Religion world. Once we were scattered like grit, but now we can bind together like cord.
Great honor, the crown of victory, will all be in Your Majesty’s hands, with ti, when the Empire regains its strength, even the Gods of the Celestial Kingdom will treat Your Majesty as a distinguished guest."
As he spoke, Great Shepherd Danschel stopped, noticing the Emperor’s facial expression growing angrier and darker shadows accumulated on his face, causing the Shepherd’s lips to tremble uncontrollably.
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