Chapter 227: Twenty-fifth Episode: Chapter 5 (1/2)
Chapter 227: Twenty-fifth Episode: Chapter 5
Translator: EndlessFantasy TranslationEditor: EndlessFantasy Translation
It was the 5th day of the 7th month in the Year 801 of the Church's Calander. It was O'Neil Andrew Morisette's first visit to the Kingdom of Italia, his first visit to the Holy City of Rome. In this ancient kingdom and this deeply religious city, Andrew's family elders were held in legendarily high regards. Even before the Titan prince departed for his trip, merchants around the cities and villages of the Kingdom of Italia fervently sold little booklets detailing O'Neil's great exploits.
Reading about those vivid stories, the citizens of the country had no trouble believing that O'Neil Andrew Morisette had all of the characteristics and virtues of a warrior and a saint. Even though he suffered some setbacks when he was younger, his fearless spirit remained unbent, and his incredible tenacity and fighting spirits were recognized all over the world. When he was doing battle with the world, he defeated invaders and rebels alike with a great brilliance. He led the God-chosen warriors to conquer the entire Great Plains of Anatolia, thus reclaiming the land that was the birth origin of the Religion of Light, which had been under the rule of other religions for the past seven centuries…
”Long live St. O' Neil Andrew Morisette!” he truly deserved the praises given to him.
In O'Neil's eyes, Italia was undoubtedly a prosperous and leisurely nation. The fields that were scattered all around the courtyards and vineyards showed a dazzling display of colors under the sunlight. The red-bricked houses proudly show off its cultural heritage, and the beautiful little houses half made of wood, found scattered around the city and the villages, produced a sort of picturesque disorder. This was Italia: a Kingdom of Fields and Gardens; rolling open fields, rich in culture, and full of churches steeped in history.
Whether one was at the countryside or in the middle of one of its beautiful bustling cities, there would surely be a visible spire punctuating the skies wherever one looked, be it that of some ancient temples, or the newer churches, or even the traditional Roman churches. It was as though all of Italia's architectural wisdom was accumulated together just to worship the God of Light.
That's right, it was worship! Oscar felt this was one of the ways that Italia's citizens expressed their devotions to this divine land. Whether one wandered off to a richer or a poorer part of the country, its churches remained beautiful and elegant. The churchmen and clergymen, though large in number, were all meticulously cared for by its people. No wonder the Manuel royal family would secretly curse these churchmen as bloodsuckers. If such a bunch of people like them, who could not distinguish between right from wrong and only knew how to congregate at one's doorstep, stretched out their hands and demand for money, probably even the most pious of believers would also feel frustrated.
Italia's Manuel royal family sent a palace chief to lead a huge welcome delegation. Ever since the Titan Prince crossed the border into Italia, everyone along his journey treated him as they would an emperor. In fact… all the monarchs in Westland more or less treated O'Neil Andrew Morisette as if he was a coronated king. This had nothing to do with his Empress wife, rather, it was his strength that determined it all.
Think about it, other than the vast territory which rightfully belonged to the center part of the Empire at the south of Titan, Andrew's family elders, in reality, controlled the traditional feudal fiefdoms of Narcissus County, the entire Great Plains of Anatolia, and including the newly acquired Balgan Peninsula… Oh heavens! With the control over such a vast area of territory much more than any of the sovereign monarchies, who would dare question whether O'Neil Andrew Morisette was a true Emperor?
The 5th day of the 7th month, the date of the Titan Prince's visit. The Italia Royal Family made an exception and announced that day as a public holiday. Whether it was to celebrate the arrival of a hero or to celebrate the defeat of the people of another religion, the Holy Roman City was aroar with cheers usually only seen during carnival celebrations.
Every road in the city, both large and small, was packed with spectators who had rushed over to watch the ritual. The city buildings were decorated with strips of ribbon, and the Manuel royal household, who were known for their pleasure in luxury, made sure that the Palace and Caeser Square were decorated extravagantly. Every member of the Manuel Royal Household was on the move, with His Majesty the King in the lead to welcome the Titan Prince. The members of both the royal family and the important ministers of the court arranged themselves into lines on either side of the steps of the country's palace. The throne was placed at the end of Caeser Square. As long as the Titan prince and his party crossed the triumphal arch, they would be able to catch sight of the highest ruler of Italia.
A few Red Tiger knights who had rushed over from the war zones cleared the way ahead of the magnificent carriage carrying the Head of the Family. The knights were clad in ancient armor, in their hands, they wielded similarly simple, yet unusually sharp weaponry. Amidst the great cheers of the crowd, they passed through the triumphal arc, just like the Roman warriors who once conquered the entire Westland.
Historically, the people of Titan admitted that this race was entirely of the ancient Roman descent. They did not have any different views from the Italians in terms of the ancestry. The Narcissus Knights had always been regarded as descendants of the Roman warriors. Generations ago, Andrew's elders had even personally gone to Italia to look for the origins of their clan. Of course, the result was tainted by the embellished version of history from others. It had always been the foreign policy of Italia's leaders to forge blood relations with its stronger neighbors, having nothing to do with the civilization of the nations stereotyped in history.
From his window, Oscar looked out at the scenes unfolding before him with great wonder. He and his wife exchanged glances speechlessly; regardless of how much they had anticipated it, they were nevertheless unprepared for the enthusiasm of the people of Italia, as if they were saints who had just saved the world.
However… we all know that O'Neil Andrew Morisette was never a self-assuming man. He knew that he could not be on par with the saints! The unusually-enthusiastic reception before him was merely hype-generated by the Vatican as well as a display put up by the Royal Household of Italia. The Vatican needed the Titan Prince's plundered territories and gold, whereas the Manuel Royal Family needed strong neighbors to make a guarantee against violating one another… in other words, this was business! It is just that simple.
The year 791, if anyone still remembered, was the year in which the commander of the Liszt Front of the Narcissus Knights, Lieutenant General Virgil Blaze, was the first to cross under the triumphal arch. And now, O'Neil Andrew Morisette and his knights were similar. Together, they witnessed the glory of the holy city of Rome, or perhaps one could say, the acknowledgment of allegiance of a certain meaning.
After passing under the Hordon triumphal arch, a great Roman Colosseum towered over the boulevard on the right, and the largest church in the traditional Catholic world, St. Roflus Cathedral, towered on the left. At the end of Caeser Square, stood Italia's National Palace and the looming silhouette of Caeser Palace under the glorious sunlight.
The guards opened the awning of the carriage of His Imperial Highness the prince, and O'Neil Andrew Morisette held his wife and stood up. Once they passed the triumphal arc, they smiled and waved gently at the crowd on their left. The Roman citizens reacted to Saint Andrew's arrival with the most exalted of cheers and a sky raining flowers. The crowd wrestled their ways to the center of the street, and the Italian soldiers on either side of the street kept pushing forward with their shields. The atmosphere at the scene was intense; it seemed as if it would soon get out of control.
The beautiful open carriage stopped in front of the Caeser Palace, and the senile king of Italia, His Majesty King Manuel XIII, walked out onto the palace's pavement along with his Queen. Both parties proceeded to greet each other according to royal protocol. When they had more or less exchanged enough pleasantries, O'Neil then introduced his entourage to the king of Italia. The king of Italia returned the gesture by introducing each of his sons and daughters to the Titan prince.
Teodoro Manuel and Her Royal Highness Princess Caro Arsia were both old friends of O'Neil, especially the latter. Not many people were aware that Her Royal Highness Princess Caro Arsia maintained a close correspondence with the Titan Prince by virtue of exchanging letters. This was fairly frequent when His Imperial Highness Prince was studying at Sparjoxin and only stopped after Oscar was imprisoned by the Deiss.
The Head of the Andrew Family especially took note of Caro Arsia who was beautiful, elegant and had already matured into a great lady. Although the memories of the younger days were, to one's surprise, no longer vivid, the lingering embrace and kiss they shared at the edge of Swan Lake were like a past in heaven.
”Still doing okay?” Oscar asked.
”All good!” the Princess of Italia replied with a smile.
This time it was Caro Arsia's turn to ask, ”And you?”
”Still the same!” O'Neil replied while kissing her the back of her hand.
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”If you are good, so am I…” Andrew's mistress suddenly appeared in between them. Perhaps both parties thought that they had hidden their feelings quite fittingly, but Sasha, or anyone else who used their heads would be able to tell otherwise.
The Titan Prince and the Princess of Italia were making sheep eyes at each other, particularly Caro Arsia, whose chest and eyes were spewing fire, like an estrus female dragon.
The brief meeting came to an end, and King Manuel XIII escorted the Titan Prince's party to call on the Pope. Although Andrew Morisette did not say anything, in his heart, he harbored plenty of ill feelings towards His Grand Eminence Pope Elamos I. According to protocol, the leader of the Church should have greeted the Titan Prince outside the triumphal arch, before the king. And yet, this pope, born of a certain small noble leader, would only sit on the throne of the Saint Roman Lovran's Cathedral, unwilling to even move his butt.
Baron Sandinand Wollums, who was good in understanding body language, at the moment, suggested to his master, ”We should find an opportunity to give him a good kick in the butt!”
Oscar was not interested in the buttocks of His Grand Eminence the Pope. He was only concerned about the saint's crown that would be forced upon his head.
Regarding the conferring of Saint, the Vatican of Light had an entire set of rules and regulations. The number of people that fulfilled these rules and regulations on earth was but a few. Most of the saints were only conferred this honorary title by the bishop group when the person involved had passed away. However, a living antecedent of a saint was also common. Just like the ruler of the Kingdom of Engels, Charlie the Great personally took part in the eastern crusades. He was the first Head of the Andrew Family who established the Narcissus Knights and expelled the Persians until Church's year 801. History or perhaps human effort had contributed to the remarkable achievements of O'Neil Andrew Morisette. Even though he had committed extremely cruel crimes during his youth, after twenty-one years later, no power in the world today was capable of judging his mistakes, because the religious leader would crown him with a holy name!
”Saint O'Neil Andrew Morisette…” the Titan Prince needed only to mouth that title to feel a surge of excitement beyond description.
”Kick the pope in the buttocks!” This was such a good suggestion! Just as O'Neil had predicted, His Grand Eminence the Pope of the Faran kingdom had set his heart on giving him a hard time. Compared to the warm welcome given to him by Italia's Manuel Royal Household, the Vatican's welcome was pitiful, to the extent that the chairman of the bishop delegation, after personally seeing the decorations put up in the holiest church, chased after the Titan Prince from behind, shouting his apologies.
His Grand Eminence Pope Elamos I made the Titan Prince and the Italia bigwigs that filled the seats wait for a full hour. During that time, he was even invited by Bishop Lileula three times. Although O'Neil had prepared himself to be met with such a sharp rebuff, he nonetheless did not expect the other person to land a slap on his face.
Just as the Titan Prince was about to lose his patience, His Grand Eminence the Pope, who was late, came in at last. In the thousand-people sanctuary, Elamos I welcomed the Head of the Andrew Family with a smirk on his face. Both sides exchanged pleasantries and proceeded to introduce their entourage. Oscar did not bring along any nobodies. He only brought knights and military men. Among those who had an audience with pope were the renowned Commander of the Red Tigers, Murat Bedoya, the Chief of Staff, Laurier Nedgabel, who had four hundred thousand Narcissus knights, the Brigade Commander of the Military Intelligence First Special Combat Brigade, the most well-known offensive unit of the Titan Empire, Luke Citel…
In other words, Oscar had brought a group of 'butchers' to the altar. Even though these generals, who followed him through fire and water, appeared to be heroes on the outside, the truth was that their hands had been tainted by the blood of countless souls, perhaps even holy water would not be able to wash them away.
After a brief exchange of conventional greetings, the scene died down. Oscar could not find any topics. His Grand Eminence Pope Elamos I also did not want to socialize with the crafty people of Titan. Since the Head of the Andrew Family wanted to be a Saint, then let him be! However, this was not because His Grand Eminence the Pope admired O'Neil Andrew Morisette's character and feats. Instead, it was for the name of god and for the gold! Heavens!
Thinking about the gold… the Pope suddenly did not find the situation altogether that intolerable anymore. The sacred conferring ceremony started in the morning. The Vatican had made fairly adequate preparations for it. O'Neil Andrew Morisette's position was as a Prince of Titan, equal to the status of the Imperial Household. Saint Roman Lovran's Cathedral opened all its doors for him. Before the commencement of the ceremony, they even rang the massive bell in set up in the steeple.
The sound of the bell washed over the hearts of the people. It passed through the eaves, through the rubble, through the thick walls and the spacious hall. Close to a thousand candles were lit in the church. Aside from the statue of the God of Light, there was not a soul in sight in the vast space, only waves of quiet and hoarse sobbing blended with the sound of the miserable bell.
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Kachev Drakas Ferdinand sat limply on the seat in the Church. The double blow brought on by having his reputation swept away and being a fugitive had completely crushed him mentally and physically. As if this was not enough, his prostitute of a daughter had also abandoned him! His flirtatious Erdogan had already engaged in a passionate romance as soon as she arrived at the Kingdom of Engels. However, ultimately this prostitute with a husband chose to follow a merchant out to sea, leaving behind her young son and her sickly father. Of course… there was still a whole lot of debt.
The Old Duke Ferdinand had not left his sickbed in a long time. Moreover, when he left his sickbed, he would only go to one place. The Church was a place of repentance. This quiet and serene place was a perfect match for a man like him who was already at death's door.
”Pardon me… Forgive me…” the old man repeated over and over again as if that was the only thing he knew how to do.
As the ringing of the prayer bells faded, the fire on the church's altar danced fiercely at the sudden opening of the great doors. A flurry of footsteps could be heard drawing near. The old man was grasping a sword in his hand that had his most beloved pendant while the other hand was tightly clutching the wound on his shoulder. Blood was oozing out from the wound, and the young man turned away in a panic. The cries and sounds of the battle outside the Church were drawing ever closer. He knew that the family bodyguards were no match for the Engels Marine Commando Unit.
”Grandfather! Grandfather! We should leave this place!”
Viscount Minsk Drakas Ferdinand was no longer connected to the glory and honor of the handsome man of those days. Even though he was the flesh and blood of the Titan Empire's Emperor, His Majesty Alpha III, who asked him to have a prostitute-like mother? There were some things had already been decided by the God of Light! Initially, he thought that his fleeing to the Kingdom of Engels could give to him a lifetime of peace, yet the sly Fur Seal, after exploiting Titan's military secrets that the Ferdinand Family knew, turned on him!
O'Neil Andrew Morisette's drafted blacklist of death had already been made a hot topic in public earlier on. The Ferdinand Family had gathered together all the faithful servants and martyrs willing to sacrifice their lives. However… it was all too late!
”Grandfather…” not receiving a response, Minsk tapped at the old man, horror-stricken. Kachev Drakas Ferdinand's frail body inclined to one side and the old man slowly collapsed. The once all-powerful political alligator had already departed a long time ago.
Without paying attention to the throngs of professional military personnel pouring out from all four corners of the Church, or the weapons trained on the vital parts of his body, Minsk Drakas Ferdinand embraced his old grandfather tightly. His grandfather was Titan's Secretary of State, a world-renowned politician, a conspirator and a traitor! And yet, to him, his grandfather was just a kindly old man whose beard he had once pulled out and he had once fooled before.
The soldiers of the Kingdom of Engel surrounding the young man suddenly stepped aside to make way for an important figure. Sir James strode over indifferently, ”According to the orders issued His Majesty the King of my country, I hereby arrest the great criminal, Duke Ferdinand to be handed to Titan Military Intelligence Bureau led by His Imperial Highness Prince O'Neil Andrew Morisette for a public trial…”
Minsk continued to stroke his grandfather's forehead. He did understand a lot, but he knew the sort of ending for having fallen into the hands of the hypocrite, O'Neil Andrew Morisette. Thinking back about the complacency while he was in Dulin, recalling the people in the world who had loved him before and those whom he loved, everything was nothing but a meaningless dream…
The young man reached his hand into his shirt and aggressively pulled out a pistol that was not yet loaded. Swords from all sides hacked at him simultaneously. Blood spilled onto the floor of the Church, spreading rapidly as if it had been granted life. The fiery red of the blood reflected the candlelight, appearing even more striking.
After the person in charge of Fur Seal had verified the death of the targets, he left the scene with flagging interests. His subordinates then beheaded the two culprits according to the old ways. Their heads were placed in a delicate wooden box. Sulfur and potassium nitrate powder were also sprinkled onto them…
The God of Light standing erect in the church should have borne witness to all of this. However, the God did not seem to harbor any dissatisfaction. He evaluated the world with kindly eyes. Evidently, the Almighty Creator had his eyes on another show!
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O'Neil Andrew Morisette knelt down on one knee before the altar. He was not dressed in a uniform that signified the commander of the soldiers. Instead, he had on a ceremonial palace robe befitting the occasion. He wore a red robe made of swansdown. On the back of the robe was cross-weaved with a golden thread, while the collar had the totem of the Andrews woven with silver thread.
”Almighty Creator… Great God of Light!” His Grand Eminence Pope Elamos I who had just completed the mass prayer suddenly stood before the golden image of God and opened his arms. ”Please, listen to the voices of this world. Kneeling before you is your pious disciple, his name is O'Neil Andrew Morisette!”
Following the lead of the pope's opening remarks, the congregants in the thousand-people church began to recite the name of the saint.
”O'Neil Andrew Morisette is your most devoted soldier! Your gospel commanded him to conquer cities and reclaim lands and defeat the evil Pagans! Your Spirit guided him, freeing your believers suffering from slavery and the territories that belong to you!”
”Almighty Creator… Great God of Light…”
The crowd once again followed the lead of His Grand Eminence the Pope and cried out even louder. Elamos I dipped his hand into the holy water in the golden bowl and proceeded to place his palms that were dripping with holy water onto O'Neil Andrew Morisette's forehead, ”Please bless this man! If you grant him a spirit of goodness and love, he will return you with unswervingly loyal to the faith…”
”O'Neil Andrew Morisette!” His Grand Eminence the Pope's palm left the Titan prince. ”Will you take on the blessings bestowed by God and love all living things in the world?”
Having felt the coolness on his forehead and the light before his eyes, O'Neil Andrew Morisette nodded repeatedly, ”Yes, I will!”
”O'Neil Andrew Morisette!” His Grand Eminence the Pope once again used holy water and taped both of the Titan Prince's shoulders. ”Every living thing is equal and the people of God are brothers. Will you uphold God's law and protect God's people with a heart of love, humility, and fairness?”
”Yes, I will!” Oscar vowed loudly. ”I will use my own flesh and blood as a shield, love, and justice as a sword and campaign against the injustices of the world, to uphold the divine law, faith, and all the buildings that are under the basis of this faith.”
”O'Neil Andrew Morisette… Please rise!” Pope Elamos I gestured to the clergymen to the collect the golden bowl filled with holy water. He helped the Titan prince to his feet. According to the rules of the ceremony, the Head of the Andrew Family, who had been baptized with holy water, could already communicate face to face with the gods.
O'Neil approached the altar and placed his palms on the feet of the golden statue of the God of Light, and then to rested his forehead on the back of his hands. Just then, the voice of His Grand Eminence the Pope appeared at his ear.
”O'Neil Andrew Morisette, please tell the Almighty Creator! Will you rid the world of injustice… hatred, bloodshed, and war?”
***************
”I… I don't know!” A gasp of horror traveled out from the vast indoors. The sound of boots stamping on the ground awakened the seemingly-sleeping manor. The soldiers wrapped fully in black cloaks dragged the victim out of the house. They threw the pitiful, blood-covered man out onto the winding corridor of the manor, and then came a period of a violent beating!
”That's enough! That's enough!” a voice could suddenly be heard, only then did the attackers in the winding corridor disperse one after another, leaving only the man who had encountered such a torture lying on the ground, breathless.
Summertime in the south of Faran was hot beyond reason. Any slight movements and one would be dripping with sweat. The attackers who had barged into the manor were sitting and lying around, chewing on a bitter wormwood and taking huge gulps of iced grape wine that had just been retrieved out from the cellar.
The family that owned this manor was very famous. The Faran villagers, both near and far, had heard of them. The average laborers at the lowest rung of society extremely admired the people who were brave enough to issue a challenge against the strong! The Boustead family originated from Titan and was the motivating leader behind the Great Uprising of the Southern Craftsmen in Year 791. Even though the Boustead Family eventually decided to come to a compromise with the ruler, the persecution the Boustead Family suffered then after, again earned a great reputation among these opportunists. Only in Faran, the freedom faction, which supported this family that was met with misfortune, was more than a dozen.