Chapter 413 Cantarella
The only sounds in the dark hallway were thumping heartbeats.
"The elder is waiting for you." The secretary standing outside the door glanced at the examiner who had been waiting for a long ti. He said indifferently, "As etiquette requires, do not speak unless there are questions after reporting. Do not raise your head and look into his eye. Don't have a smart mouth, understood?"
"Understood." The examiner nodded respectfully. His face was a bit pale and he could not breathe as if his collar was too tight.
"This is for your own good." The secretary patted his shoulder and pushed open the door without waiting for his reply. The examiner lowered his head and walked into the silent room.
Dark red curtains hung in the room. The carved holy emblem shone with black tallic light under the dim candle. In the darkness, there was only an old man in a rough robe. He sat on a tal chair. His features were plain and his eyes were closed. He held rosary beads and seed to be praying. The tiny marks on the rosary beads' emblems showed the elder's status.
It was only a re glance but the examiner involuntarily held his breath and knelt down, reverently lowering his head.
It was the Ecclesiastical Order. This order composed of the old creatures of the Sacred City families did not exist in any records. However, they held a mysterious yet powerful influence over the Sacred City for a century. They were born from the elite families of the Sacred City families and had all undergone the intense competition within their families to beco 'beasts' who did not fall for decades in the political world. They were once active in Amnesty Institute, the Bishop Departnt, the Gospel Ministry, and other important institutions. Even the Cardinals could not be isolated from their influence.
Now, they had aged and were willing to be ascetic monks without any status but they were still powerful figures who could change the entire Church with an order. They once had power, money, lust, and all the glory in the world.
What they once had was no longer important now. Instead, they began leading ascetic and crude lives. They spent their days in the dark underground palace to study the scriptures and rarely ventured out. If they ca out from the underground, would they sll like a rotting corpse?
They were like ghosts that hid in the shadows and paced through the human world. They gazed at people with their murky eyes with a chilling aura.
Kneeling before the elder, the examiner respectfully reported his na and institution.
After a long silence, the praying elder opened his eyes. He raised the simple ring on his finger to the examiner's lips.
"Child, I bless thee. You are the hands of God." The voice was deep yet hoarse as if it ca from far away.
In a daze, the examiner kissed the ring. Fear flashed past his reverent expression. The amber ring was carved with the elder's family emblem. It was the Sforza family—an important figure in the Sacred City.
Over the centuries, more than sixteen cardinals had co from that family. There were not many who were qualified to wear this ring. To the examiner's knowledge, there were only a few in this generation, including the elder brother of the current family leader. He was the one who matched the old man's body and voice the most—Ludovic.
But the terrifying thing was…Ludovic had died forty years ago.
So what was sitting before him now? A living corpse? An angry spirit? The examiner did not dare to think any further. He emptied his thoughts and started to report.
Three short minutes later, he lowered his head and did not speak anymore.
Ludovic replied promptly. "Tell your thoughts," he said. "You have interacted with him for fifteen days. What do you feel?"
"It-it is difficult to say." The examiner was sweating. "He is a pure idealistic man and shows signs of self-destruction. Torture is useless because his heart will not die. No matter what we say or threaten, he refuses to say anything useful. This type of person is difficult. We might not receive anything other than lies.
"In addition, he may have already expected this day and made all the preparations. All evidence and traces end with him. It is impossible to continue digging. We cannot find any other clues.
"Now, many people worship him, thinking he is a saint in the darkness but I think he is crazy. In fact…" He paused and lowered his head. "He may already realize that my identity is not so simple."
"Oh?"
The secretary hung his head. "He always takes as a regular clerk but when he speaks, he looks at my collar." He pulled his collar open. The skin on the neck was clearly different. It was the obvious tan line from wearing high-collared uniforms under the sun for many years.
After a pause, Ludovic nodded. "Anything else?"
"I on-once…" The examiner gulped. "There was once a mont when I wanted to kill him but…I did not dare." His pinky finger twitched as he thought back to that murderous mont.
At that ti, the youth behind the long table had raised his head lazily. A tallic glint had appeared in his squinted eyes. Even under the shackles, there had been a bone-numbing coldness. It was like a sword hanging over his head. The coldness did not disappear until fear had flashed past the examiner's eyes. It was then replaced by a mocking smirk.
Hearing this, Ludovic did not comnt. He nodded and said, "I see. You may leave now."
As if freed, the examiner retreated respectfully and quietly closed the door. The secretary entered soon. After closing the door, he stood wordlessly beside Ludovic. He waited until the old man had finished thinking before placing a letter on the table.
"Anglo's ambassador wishes to see you."
"I won't see him." Ludovic scoffed. "There is no one worthy of seeing us in that fallen nation without God's protection. Arthur's descendants will never learn to be humble. Just let them die in arrogance."
The secretary nodded. He tossed the letter into the burner. It quickly turned to dust in the fire.
"Anglo will do all they can to adjust matters these days. Mr. Borja said that many of the Amnesty Institute have been swayed."
"Tell Borja that this matter is highly important and should not be treated lightly. It involves the Sacred City's dignity. If he is not punished, will the Sacred City's laws continue to be effective? I can understand his hardships. I will help him solve this problem. However, I hope that the result will not be disappointing. After all, this is all for the Sacred City."
He reached out and wrote so words on paper. Pressing his ring in the inkpad, he left behind a clear stamp and put the paper inside an envelope. "Give this to 'Cantarella'."
The secretary held the envelope. Hearing that na, his hand trembled as if holding a burning piece of iron.
'Cantarella' was originally the na of a poison. It was odorless white powder that priests gave to their political enemies. So said that it was the combination of cadine and arsenic. The victim would by asphyxiated by a bone-piercing coldness.
But at so ti, it beca the euphemism for the assassins kept by the important families. The assassins who were sent were usually priests, civilians, or even nobles. Like poison, they were single-use consumables. They were difficult to develop but had shocking effects. They rarely ever failed.
The secretary quickly took the letter and left without a sound.
In the silence, Ludovic sat alone. The dim candlelight illuminated his rosary beads. He shut his eyes and prayed quietly.
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