Chapter 545: Humans Are Truly Too Terrible

In the guest room on the east side of Prince Prince Kelin Manor, the light of the magic crystal lamp replaced the fire of the fireplace, leaving warm orange light on the wallpaper with printed patterns.

The air here was dry and warm, filled with a faint fragrance of lavender.

Ailin, who had just finished taking a bath, sat on the edge of the bed, wiping her wet silver long hair with a towel, humming a light and melodious tune in her mouth.

That was a song she heard at the banquet in Gladstone Castle, giving her a feeling of strolling in a sea of flowers, using it to describe her mood at this moment couldn't be more suitable.

Compared to the days in Twilight City, life in Thunder City was too happy.

Especially this time when she came back, she found that the people here had actually come up with a "liquid soap" blended from palm oil and olive oil, and her hair carried a floral fragrance after washing.

And the most critical thing is...

This is Prince Prince Prince Kelin's home.

Thinking of this, Ailin's cheeks became hotter and hotter, uncontrollably burying her nose tip into the bath towel she held in her hand, as if that was someone's chest...

"Your Highness."

The one who interrupted Ailin's thoughts was Teresa's voice.

Before Ailin could hide the bath towel behind her back with a red face, she saw Teresa, who had already taken off her armor, kneeling on the thick cashmere carpet.

"I have sinned, please punish me."

"Teresa? What are you doing..." Ailin looked at her loyal guard in surprise, her emerald-green eyes full of confusion, the bath towel held in her hand gently placed on her knees.

Teresa lowered her head and continued.

"Just now at the entrance of the manor, the royal carriage was not naturally damaged, it was me... who deliberately destroyed it in order to create an opportunity for you."

Finally saying this difficult-to-speak sentence, Teresa didn't raise her head, her eyes staring straight at the complicated patterns on the carpet, as if she wanted to see a hole in it.

It was fortunate that she didn't raise her head, otherwise Ailin would have definitely found a crack in the floor to crawl into before her. That fair face was instantly covered with crimson, just like a ripe apple.

Op, opportunity?!

What kind of opportunity...

Time flowed second by second, the swinging of the pendulum of the wall clock became the only sound in the room.

About five minutes later, Teresa finally heard a sigh of relief from the front that was held to the limit.

Before she could come back to her senses, Ailin stood up from the bed, walked forward, and reached out to help her up.

"Teresa, you are my loyal subordinate, I know you did this for my own good... but don't do it next time."

"Yes, Your Highness..."

Seriously repenting for her rash behavior for three seconds, Teresa slowly raised her head in shame, but saw that there was no blame in those emerald-green eyes, but instead a trace of faint secret joy hidden.

Teresa couldn't help but be slightly stunned.

So...

Should she do it next time or not?

She suddenly felt a bit uncertain.

Clearly, the tacit understanding between Ailin and Teresa was ultimately not as good as the Demon King and his cat.

And Ailin didn't explain, after helping Teresa up, she walked to the window with her hands behind her back, stepping on the soft cashmere carpet.

With her back to Teresa, who was still in a daze, she raised her right hand to gently brush the hair beside her ear, saying in a light and firm voice.

"Moreover, I believe in Prince Prince Prince Kelin's character. Even if we are under the same roof as Miss Yaya, Prince Prince Prince Kelin will never do anything across the line, after all..."

She didn't have the heart to say the second half.

Last night, if he really wanted to take advantage of the situation, with her state at that time, she probably wouldn't have been able to refuse at all.

Undoubtedly, he is a true gentleman!

Watching her own Highness's calm look like a "main palace," Teresa couldn't help but sigh in her heart, thinking of the novel she had read before.

Since ancient times, the childhood sweetheart couldn't beat the heaven-sent system, because of that blind confidence.

Trust is a knight's virtue, but blindness is a crisis.

"Your Highness."

Teresa's voice sank a few points, that was the courage she would only take out when analyzing the enemy situation on the battlefield.

"Your trust is admirable, but as your subordinate, I must report to you the information I collected on the way to the city."

Ailin looked at her, blinking blankly.

"Information?"

"Yes, about that Miss Yaya Midia."

Teresa stepped forward, lowering her voice, as if that was some kind of unspeakable military secret.

"Although there are only a few words, I heard some wind from some old servants in the manor, and guards in the city. It is said that when this lady first arrived in Thunder City, there was a short rumor about her traveling late at night with Prince Prince Prince Kelin. Even... some people privately called her 'mistress'."

"Mis... tress?"

The smile on Ailin's face froze.

The calmness that had been lingering on her face a second ago, like a soap bubble pricked, instantly dissipated in the summer night wind.

Watching the expression on Ailin's face, a trace of unbearable flashed in Teresa's heart.

Actually, "traveling late at night" was a plot she saw from a novel, and "mistress" was her thought in the dead of night.

However, in order to make Princess Ailin take it seriously, for the glory of the Campbell family, she, as a knight, also went all out!

May Saint Xisi forgive her white lie, she was also forced to do so.

"... Although these messages disappeared as if wiped by an invisible hand, disappearing cleanly, impossible to verify. But Your Highness should understand that in this world, complete 'disappearance' often means that there is some powerful force behind it deliberately covering it up."

Ailin swallowed a mouthful of saliva.

"Could it be brother..."

"Your brother has no reason to do this." Teresa shook her head, continuing in a serious voice, "I am worried that it is Miss Yaya's unspeakable conspiracy... she deliberately erased her traces in order to paralyze your vigilance!"

It's a pity that Miss "Yaya" isn't here, otherwise she would definitely jump up excitedly to express "That's right, that's exactly what I planned!"

The idiot of the Partridge family doesn't have so many thoughts, she probably belongs to the kind who, even if someone wrote a strategy against the Demon King for her, she would be too lazy to read it because it's too long, and take it to little Luo Yan to help her analyze.

Facing Teresa's pressing step by step, Ailin's fingers tightly twisted the skirt, her voice gradually becoming somewhat trembling.

"Then... then they..."

"Maybe something has already happened!"

"Something happened?!"

"Like a scandal or something."

"... What is a scandal? Is it drinking tea together? Or..."

She couldn't say the words behind, but that instantly flushed face had already explained everything. The previous certainty was gone, replaced by the panic of seven up and eight down.

Teresa, who was the culprit, had no self-awareness, following Ailin, who kept retreating, from the window to the fireplace, the light of the magic crystal lamp illuminating her firm side face.

"Your Highness, the above is the information I heard, and the following is my analysis. If you don't want to hear it, please pretend I didn't say it... I won't mention it again in the future."

That was clearly not the momentum of wanting to stop, watching Teresa's face that "would suffocate if she didn't finish speaking," the kind-hearted Miss Ailin swallowed a mouthful of saliva, her right hand clutching the collar in front of her chest, restraining her wildly beating heart, ready to bear the blow.

"Then... you say it."

Teresa's face was happy, then she restrained her joy, and continued seriously.

"Miss Midia from the Shengcheng, traveled alone from her hometown to this distant land. This touching sincerity, if it were any man, I'm afraid he would have fallen. To tell you the truth... if I were a man, I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to resist this deep affection."

Ailin: "...?"

Without paying attention to the Highness who had fallen into a daze, Teresa put her hands on Ailin's shoulders, preventing her from continuing to escape, and her tone also became unprecedentedly serious.

"Your Highness. Although I don't have experience in that area, based on my knowledge and insight into the battlefield situation, I think you are currently at a disadvantage. This is not me being alarmist, if we cannot take out the courage to break through the enemy line in one go, I'm afraid defeat is only a matter of time!"

"Def, defeat is..."

"It means your castle has someone else's flag planted on it!"

"Then, what should I do?"

"Launch an attack immediately!"

Attack?

What else can be done?

Could it be...

Ailin's heart was beating violently, hitting her chest cavity.

That romantic night flashed through her mind again, the hot heat flow rushing inside and outside the city walls, rolling all her fatigue and hesitation into the vortex.

If she had to go further, it could only be... that kind of thing.

Just as her thoughts flew to the top of the castle, she hurriedly retreated two steps, breaking free from the hand resting on her shoulder like an electric shock, not daring to look at Teresa's eyes full of encouragement.

"Att... attack? This kind of thing... is too shameless..."

At least...

That kind of thing can't be initiated by herself, right?

Anyway, it has to be in a room full of incense, both of them slightly drunk, approaching each other slowly under the guidance of candlelight... if it were like that, she wouldn't be unable to take the initiative reluctantly.

Just as Ailin's thoughts completely flew out of the nine heavens, Teresa had already gone to the side of the suitcase with a smile, and when she came back, there was a wooden box wrapped in velvet in her hand.

She solemnly handed the wooden box to Ailin, looking at the latter who was blank, and said.

"Your Highness, this is something Lady Andongni left with me. She said that sooner or later you would use it, and when that time comes, make sure to hand this decisive weapon to you."

Lady Andongni?

Ailin was stunned.

Based on her impression of that gentle and virtuous lady, she seemed to have never had any involvement with those mysterious atmospheres.

Is it a magic device?

Or a magic scroll that amplifies charm...

With a mood intertwined with anxiety and expectation, Ailin subconsciously reached out, gently picking open the golden buckle with her trembling fingertips.

The box lid popped open.

No magic glow, no brilliance of gems.

Lying on the black velvet lining, it seemed to be just a mass of thin fabric that felt like it would float away at any time... uh, fabric?

If she didn't look carefully, Ailin even suspected that it was the scraps left over from making clothes.

The semi-transparent black gauze nightgown was so light it could even be blown away by her breathing, the exquisite lace patterns like mandalas blooming in the night, the fabric less than shame, revealing a boldness and silver-lust that made people suffocate.

Ailin stared fixedly at the fabric in the box, her emerald-green pupils trembling like an earthquake, her brain almost stopped thinking in an instant.

This is definitely not proper clothing! What is the difference between wearing this stuff and not wearing it?

No—

This kind of looming design is simply more blasphemous than not wearing it!

Ailin just imagined what it would look like on her, and her cheeks turned into boiling magma, wishing she could bury her face in the fireplace to cool down.

"Wearing it... and you win." Ailin's breathing became rapid, her brain had reached the edge of hypoxia, reaching out and taking the clothes out.

Teresa gave her another encouraging look.

"That's right! For the future of the Campbell family, please change your clothes!"

It's a pity—

Teresa still overestimated Ailin's bravery in that regard, and the sense of shame finally pierced the high wall called reason.

Her face instantly turned red, almost bleeding, and the white smoke radiating around her made it unclear whether it was evaporated sweat or the air wave being boiled.

Wearing this kind of thing to see Prince Prince Kelin...

The her in the fantasy was already standing at the door, seeing the face behind the door change from stunned to obsessed, and finally the two went to the clouds and rain of the Ten Thousand Swords Mountain.

"Woo..."

Ailin, whose brain was completely overloaded, let out a short cry of sorrow, her head tilted back, and her body fell backward softly.

"Your Highness?!"

Teresa was quick-eyed and fast-handed, rushing forward in one step, and before Ailin's back of the head hit the ground, she grabbed her slender and soft waist.

At the same time, in the master bedroom upstairs, Vivienne, who was happily eating potato chips, suddenly froze her movements, jumping up from the bed with a start.

Just at that moment, she felt Ailin's heartbeat frequency break through the limit, and the extreme shame and excitement almost burned her brain.

"What's the situation?!"

Could it be that a certain white-haired vixen has already become so shameless that she started showing off under Vivienne-sama's nose?

Truly unreasonable!

Vivienne's brain was ringing with alarm bells, her scarlet eyes revealing a fierce light, throwing away the unfinished potato chips, and sitting back on the bed with her legs crossed.

"Don't even think about succeeding! Wah-yah-yah-yah..."

Reasonably speaking, even if the Sire has a certain degree of dominance over the familiar, it is not an easy thing to hard-top the Diamond-tier big shot with the strength of a Platinum-tier transcendent.

However, it was a coincidence that Ailin was emptied of her blood bar under Teresa's repeated attacks, and let the Prince Prince Kelin family's vampire find a seam to drill into.

Almost in an instant, Vivienne's eyes became clear, but immediately after, she was scared to death by the breath blowing toward her face.

Damn it—

What the hell?!

What entered Vivienne's eyes was not a ghost, but Teresa's face.

I saw that female knight who was usually serious, now full of red face, heavy breathing, a pair of eyes staring fixedly at herself, the distance between the two was so close that their nose tips were almost touching.

Vivienne instinctively wanted to dodge, but a powerful arm wrapped around her waist. This was not her body after all, and the strength of the Diamond-tier couldn't be exerted at all.

"Your Highness!"

Watching Princess Ailin who was suddenly struggling, Teresa exclaimed, and was brought down to the carpet by Ailin, who was trying her best to fall backward.

The two were stacked together, Vivienne's brain was about to crash, especially a shameless black lace nightgown happened to fall in front of her eyes.

No!

Vivienne's chastity must never be lost here!

"Jee—!"

A loud scream exploded in Vivienne's bedroom, hearing the movement from upstairs, Teresa subconsciously raised her head.

And at this time, the connection between the Sire and the familiar finally broke, and those red-tinted eyes were once again dyed with emerald-green confusion.

What happened?

Just as Ailin was confused, in the bedroom upstairs, Vivienne, who was scared, had already shrunk to the corner of the bed.

I saw her holding her knees tightly with both hands, her little face pale, her chest rising and falling violently, as if she had just crawled out of the dungeon of the Shengcheng.

So...

Is this the bond between the lord and the knight in the human world?

She had only seen it in Haineiweite's novels before, and even felt it was nonsense at the time, not expecting reality to be more exaggerated than the novel.

Vivienne stretched out her trembling little hand, wiped the cold sweat seeping from her forehead, her red pupils in the earthquake full of horror.

"Humans... are truly too terrible..."

The night in Thunder City was thick, and the Shengcheng thousands of kilometers away had just welcomed the bell sound before nightfall.

In the private prayer room of Saint Clement Cathedral, it was so quiet that one could even hear the sound of the candle flames burning.

The afterglow of the setting sun passed through the towering stained glass, turning into beams of light that illuminated the milky-white marble statue.

Countless tiny dust particles danced around the few light pillars that were about to disappear, looking like mortals trying to grasp something in the torrent of history.

Laike Gregory, the old man revered by the world as "Gregory IX," was sitting alone on the long bench in front of the statue.

At this moment, he was holding two letters in his hand.

The one in his left hand was from the distant Twilight Saint Saint Xingsheng, signed by Tribunal Chief Ximenes, the words between the lines overflowing with fanaticism for the Holy Grace and the eagerness to claim credit.

In Ximenes's letter, it was mentioned that under the protection of the Holy Light, under the thunderous means of the Tribunal, the chaos entrenched in the Twilight Saint Saint Xingsheng had turned into ashes and dissipated.

The new "Holy Light Council" had already become the most loyal hunting dog of the Church, biting tightly onto those heretical elements trying to touch the divine power.

The Tribunal planned to end the holy action against the Twilight Saint Saint Xingsheng before autumn came, and hand over the local governance to the Holy Light Council.

A trace of mockery flashed in the old man's turbid eyes. Based on his understanding of Ximenes, if the situation over there was really as smooth as he said, the Tribunal Chief would never have left so hastily.

Ending before the harvest...

It meant that there would probably be no harvest this year, and the local production work was probably a mess, and the Tribunal could only dump the pot before people really started to starve.

That Holy Light Council was probably the one to take the pot. It was just a pity for the people there, who still had to suffer in hunger for another year.

But fortunately, the same kind of chaos corrosion rarely erupts on the same piece of land in a short period of time.

Gregory IX sighed lightly, mourned for the people in the famine for two seconds, and then moved his gaze to the letter in his right hand.

That was a petition letter from the capital of the Ryan Kingdom, written by Bishop Claude of Roland City.

He cried about the barrenness of the diocese, the people of the Holy Light couldn't afford bread, and the priests couldn't even scrape together the gold coins to repair the church roof. And all the responsibility lay with the Campbell Principality downstream of the Running River, where the Duke was pushing for blasphemous reforms, using fake paper to cheat the gold and silver in their hands.

【Only begging for the mercy of the Shengcheng, to allocate funds, to appease the restless believers...】

Gregory IX finished reading the letter in his hand silently, and in the end, didn't even sigh, just shook his head lightly.

He slowly raised his head, his gaze passing over the two letters, casting toward the setting sun that was about to sink below the horizon outside the window, a trace of sadness rising in his heart.

Five hundred years ago, was this sun also shining on the territory of the Os Empire like this?

At that time, the Saint Xisi Church was so glorious!

The Empire's army was strong, and wherever the eyes reached, they were the road network of the Empire!

And they were strong not only in martial virtue, but also in literary virtue. The nobles of the Senate used the bonds of blood to maintain the alliance with the royal courts of the kingdoms, and the blood of both sides was like growing together!

As for the Church, its influence was even above both.

Every bishop sent from the Shengcheng to every kingdom was the true uncrowned king of the local area, and even the most aggressive monarch had to salute them.

Every priest had to go on a pilgrimage to the Shengcheng at least three times in his life, once in his youth, once in his middle age, and the last time when he was old.

At that time, the Pope only needed to wave his scepter lightly to mobilize millions of brave soldiers from the vast territory of the Os Continent!

The Lizardmen huddled in a corner of the Old Continent, the Orcs and Elves were forced to go far away, and the power of the human race and the Holy Light were unprecedentedly strong.

And the Os Empire condensed all this supreme power!

However—

The beauty of the past has gone forever.

The Empire's gaze gradually crossed the angry waves, casting toward that New Continent full of gold. The Shengcheng was unprecedentedly young, and also unprecedentedly old.

The young officers only had war achievements and colonial wealth in their eyes, they would rather send the young men of the Shengcheng to the front line to fight, and would not look back at their own behind.

In their eyes, the kingdoms of the Old Continent were symbols of poverty and barbarism, and the monarchs there were all a group of barbarians who couldn't be helped up by mud.

The attitude of the Senate was roughly the same.

With the continuous prosperity of trade on the vast ocean, the kingdoms had gradually changed from the main course of the families of the Shengcheng to the cold dishes before the meal.

The gold coins spent by an Empire person in a lifetime couldn't be compared to ten Roden people, and the relationship between the Roden Kingdom and the Empire was still the closest, and the more distant land would only be worse.

They were unable to push the Empire's advanced order on the old soil where conservative forces were deeply rooted, so they simply cast their gaze to the distance beyond the Whirlpool Sea.

This was not only the result of their own interest demands, and the bankruptcy of marriage politics, but also a long-term conspiracy of the nobles of the Shengcheng to check and balance the divine power.

After they successfully emptied the immortal Emperor, they soon turned their gaze to Saint Clement Cathedral. Without anyone's provocation, this was almost an inevitable thing.

Gregory IX knew very well the plans of those families in the Shengcheng, they wanted to let the authority of the Church die with the rotten meat of the Old Continent, so as to recreate a new Empire!

This conspiracy didn't start today, it had been going on for a full five hundred years. In the infighting between the two factions, it even indirectly bred an officer faction representing the commoners.

And the result of this struggle was that the bishop who once guarded one side had already fallen into a jester beside the monarch's dining table.

One of the most typical was Bishop Claude of Roland City!

Gregory IX remembered this name very clearly, and was also helpless that the regional bishop had actually fallen to the point of borrowing money from the Pope on behalf of the secular monarch.

Although secular kings also borrowed money from the Pope before, they were often written by themselves, and then approved by the Pope for the local diocese bishop to allocate funds.

These greedy bugs... I'm afraid they had long ago squandered the gold placed by the Church in various places.

The local institutions still directly controlled by the Church, I'm afraid, only remained in the adventurer guilds in various regions.

However, those institutions were also riddled with holes like the bishops, having long been eroded by local forces, and it was hard to say how many adventurers still remembered that they were servants of the Holy Light.

Just when Gregory IX was alone mourning the afterglow of the sunset, the oak door behind the long bench let out a low groan, breaking the silent silence in the prayer room.

"Pope-sama, are you looking for me?"

Cardinal Bishop Frans Hilfen walked in.

He was the uncle of Kasit Hilfen, possessing rich art appreciation and theological attainments, and was also a transcendent whose strength was unfathomable.

No one knew his depth, because there had been no war around the Shengcheng for a long time, and even if there was, it generally didn't need the bishop of the Cardinal Court to take action.

Most bishops and popes would take their transcendent power into the grave.

Gregory IX didn't speak, just slowly stretched out his withered hand under the sleeve, and handed the two letters over.

Frans respectfully took them, just like receiving red wine handed by another gentleman. He borrowed the light of the candle, first looking at the one from the Twilight Saint Saint Xingsheng.

That was the victory report of Tribunal Chief Ximenes.

Looking at the near-fanatical rhetoric on the letter paper, Frans's well-trimmed eyebrows raised slightly, and the corners of his mouth hooked into a meaningful arc.

His familiarity with Ximenes was no less than the Pope's, that mad dog from a humble background had a near-pathological obsession with heretics.

High-born nobles often looked down on such wild dogs, these guys often didn't have a stable core, and would do anything to climb up, today they could bite the meat bone thrown by the master, tomorrow they would bite the master's hand.

The so-called "rooting out chaos," in his view, was just a farce carefully embellished to cover up his own incompetence.

And the facts seemed to be exactly the same.

Before even waiting for the first harvest, that group of guys couldn't wait to unilaterally announce victory, and then withdraw decently.

"How do you see Ximenes's letter?" The Pope looked at Frans, asking in a flat and gentle voice.

Frans replied faintly.

"I have no surprise that he stumbled. But based on my understanding of him, he probably wouldn't dare to lie on key issues."

Gregory IX nodded.

He felt the same way.

Actually, it doesn't matter if the Tribunal is gray-faced in the local area, as long as the chaos corrosion disappears from that piece of land.

"He wants a victory. Then give him a victory, it just so happens that Saint Clement Cathedral also needs his triumphal return."

Gregory IX nodded and said.

"I want to leave this matter to you, the Hilfen family has experience in this area."

"It is my greatest honor to serve you."

Frans smiled faintly, as if dusting off the dust on his sleeves, and casually placed this "victory report" on the long bench beside him.

Immediately after, he unfolded the second letter from Bishop Claude of Roland City.

At first, Frans's expression was still calm.

However, as his gaze moved downward, seeing that wild dog who was also from a humble background like Ximenes howling for gold coins without any dignity, he finally couldn't suppress the boiling anger in his chest, and exploded a blasphemous curse in front of the statue of Saint Xisi.

"This despicable clown!"

Gregory IX looked at him deeply, but Frans didn't have any restraint, and in his anger, he crumpled the letter into a ball.

"He actually still has the face to reach out to the Shengcheng for money? I wonder if the leftovers rewarded to him by Xioden aren't enough to fill his greedy mouth!"

In the eyes of the Shengcheng, Bishop Claude of Roland City is a living joke.

More than ten years ago, this man was still a dwarf clown in the Ryan Palace who only knew how to juggle balls and use funny actions to please the king. Just because this guy successfully pleased the King of Ryan, Xioden Devalou, he sat on the throne of the regional bishop under the latter's operation!

Although the secular kingdoms usurping the power of the bishop had appeared as early as five hundred years ago, Claude was undoubtedly the most blasphemous model among them.

This guy is the bishop with the lowest "holy content" in history!

And what made the Church even more annoyed was that this guy's resume didn't have any problems, he was promoted from the priest of the church all the way, just the speed of promotion was a bit fast.

This matter even became a handle for the Senate faction and the officer faction to attack the "crown falling" of the Saint Clement Church.

Or rather, a laughing stock.

Thinking of Claude's old face smeared with rouge powder, Frans felt a burst of physiological nausea, wishing he could burn this letter.

"Your Majesty, that kingdom is beyond saving."

Although the usurpation of episcopal authority by secular kingdoms began as early as five hundred years ago, Claude is undoubtedly the most blasphemous example among them.

"Why does chaos always favor the Ryan Kingdom? Why do those dirty evil spirits always breed on that piece of land? I think the answer is obvious, because that is the most blasphemous place in the Old Continent!"

He pointed outside the colored window of Saint Clement Cathedral, that is the Ryan Kingdom. ===== CHAPTER 546 =====

At the time, this matter even became a handle for the Elder Faction and the Officer Faction to attack the Saint Clementine Holy See for the "falling of the crown."

Or rather, a laughingstock.

Thinking of Claude's old face smeared with rouge and powder, France felt a wave of physiological nausea and wished he could burn this letter.

"Your Majesty, that kingdom is beyond saving."

Having vented his anger, France turned around to look at the Pope who was watching him, his voice permeated with bone-chilling coldness.

"Why does Chaos always favor the Kingdom of Lei? Why do those filthy evil spirits always breed on that land? I think the answer is obvious, because that is the most blasphemous place in the Old Continent!"

He pointed outside the stained-glass windows of the Saint Clementine Cathedral; that was the Kingdom of Lei.