CHAPTER 146: CHAPTER 144 LORD, PLEASE FORGIVE ME

Imperial Calendar, November 5th, 1444.

Holy Seat City.

The fishy sea breeze fluttered the silken curtains, with the air infused with the scent of peppers and flowers, and interspersed with distant chanting and bell ringing.

Pope Johnny VIII stood barefoot on the carpet, dressed in a wide robe with large sleeves of snow-white sleepwear, leaning against the window sill gazing into the blue-gray haze at the sea and sky.

His limbs were slender and long, yet his head and torso appeared stout, like a poor snowman with four sticks inserted into a snowball.

The sea breeze swept in, causing him to lose his balance a bit, and he took a step back, immediately supported by the attendant behind him.

"Thank you, Xie Li." Turning around, supporting himself on the shoulders of the attendant priest, Johnny VIII staggered to the dressing table and sat down.

Even such a short walk made Johnny VIII somewhat breathless.

Who would have thought that this seemingly frail old man is the most powerful person in the entire Empire?

A Silent Girl of Xilan with wheat-colored skin stepped forward, picked up powder and paint, and began to do makeup for the Pope.

"You don’t actually need to attend today’s council meeting." Xie Li whispered softly behind Johnny VIII.

"If that were the case, the apostle of that devil would say blasphemous curses, and I will not allow him to desecrate our Holy Hall again."

Johnny VIII leaned on the chair back, stroking the velvet armrest: "That sharp-tongued little villain, even saying his name would desecrate my tongue."

"Grandiva is using these meetings to sap your energy." Xie Li dipped a fiery-patterned cherry into purplish-blue wine and placed that small glass of wine into Johnny VIII’s hand.

Johnny VIII raised the glass and drank it in one go, spat out the cherry pit, closed his eyes, waited for a while, and then his formerly ashen face regained some rosiness.

"So, are they discussing matters regarding the ’Saint’s Grandson’ this time?"

"Yes." Xie Li took a stack of meeting agendas from the table beside him and placed them in front of Johnny VIII.

Johnny VIII pulled the paper very close to read slowly.

"Your Majesty, isn’t the Church’s reaction to this Saint’s Grandson somewhat excessive?" With careful consideration, Xie Li voiced his thoughts, "Currently, there’s a craze for catching short-haired people rising in the Armored Wood Province, leading many normal Armed Farmers and even merchant citizens to be forced into bankruptcy by the lords."

"Do you think I don’t know?" Johnny VIII tossed the agenda list aside, "Saint’s Grandson, humph, how is this different from Grandiva’s rhetoric of angels reincarnating? It’s just that Grandiva has collaboration with the Falan people and the Falan Royal Family.

Regarding the Thousand River Valley affair, why did Grandiva reconcile with us, if not for being frightened by that foolish farmer? The more afraid he is, the bigger we have to make the commotion.

He’s been trapped by his earlier stance to severely punish, there’s no way he could reverse to say they’re relaxing the capture of short-haired ones, he’s caught roasting over the fire."

Besides, there was another reason why Johnny VIII continued to fan the flames; he could sense that the supreme presence seemed to have taken notice of the "Saint’s Grandson."

This filled him with terror, for even Grandiva, who claimed to be the angel reincarnate, couldn’t attract His attention.

Only all Popes knew—He really watches over the world.

Yet He does not interfere in anything.

Only during the papal succession, when donning the holy crown, can one feel a trace of His presence.

This was also why he was certain Grandiva was a fraud, for he did not evoke any reaction from Him.

Had Grandiva caught His attention even slightly, Johnny VIII would never have promoted him into the Red Cardinal Group.

Surrendering to pressure and temptation was Johnny VIII’s greatest regret.

Facing the aftermath of the Windmill Land War, if not for support from the Falan priests, he feared he’d become the first Pope to bankrupt the Holy Seat City.

But if he could have foreseen today’s situation, he’d have endured disgrace to keep Grandiva from stepping into this sacred city.

Johnny VIII caressed his bloated waist and abdomen, pressing down to realize the indent would almost not recover.

Grandiva guessed correctly; he didn’t have much time left.

"Thousand River Valley remains one of our Northern Church’s most stable sources of wealth, capturing short-haired people must not affect the normal operations there, give orders to stabilize the grain prices."

Xie Li immediately pulled out a quill pen and began writing the Pope’s decree on paper.

Through centuries of management, the native Reflanders people of Thousand River Valley [Empire’s official designation] have gradually retreated into the mountains while the fertile plains remain under the Church’s control.

Johnny VIII relied on Thousand River Valley for large-scale benefit exchanges to snatch the papal position back from the Falan people.

Among the four counties on the plains, Hotam County alone has 1.2 million people, which can bring tens of bishop dean positions and hundreds of cathedral priest positions to the Church.

The Church’s annual income from Hotam County reaches 100,000 gold pounds!

The aide powdered Pope Johnny VIII’s age-spotted face with lead-infused makeup powder from a box.

"This year’s summer tax from Thousand River Valley hasn’t been paid yet, and those damned Reflanders are clamoring for rebellion." Picking up the decree, Johnny VIII coughed, "Although I don’t appreciate Constans’ approach in handling Juanuo, his decisiveness did buy us considerable time...Xie Li, fetch my clothes."

"What if the Thousand River Valley people really rise in rebellion?" Xie Li fetched the Holy Robe from a nearby clothes rack.

With exquisite stitches, the complex designs and inscriptions dazzled the eyes, while incense from the censer beneath saturated every fiber of the garment.

"Juanuo is dead, the only thing to worry about now is that little girl."

The Pope stood up, allowing the attendants to approach and fix his attire, as he calmly declared, "With our Charles here, she can at most capture a few Mountain Counties, as long as the four plains counties are not lost, there will not be much damage."

"Will the summer tax from Thousand River Valley still be collected?"

"Likely not possible, maybe half this year, and for the next three years, even if we want to collect, it probably won’t be possible."

"Especially at this time..." Xie Li sighed softly.

Johnny VIII remained silent, knowing full well that the collapse of the Innocent Dam happened because of his reconstruction project.

Those damned nobles and priests colluded with the messengers he dispatched, failing to properly rebuild the Innocent Dam, thus leading to the current unrest in Thousand River Valley.

Regarding this matter, Grandiva really hadn’t done anything.

This wouldn’t have affected the overall situation, yet the old King Leia supporting Johnny VIII suffered a stroke, and until the new king ascends, the Leia people’s attention is focused on the potential civil war.

Until stability returns to the political sphere of the Leia Kingdom, the support received from the Leia Region will greatly diminish.

Continuing on like this, it’s really possible to hand back the papal position to the Falan people, even the Emperor’s position, vacant for thirty years, might also be returned to the Falan.

Johnny VIII labored all his life, seemingly headed back to square one.

"Could it really be that the Lord favors the Falan people?" Johnny VIII’s words bore an undertone of sorrow.

"Your Majesty, you mustn’t think this way." Xie Li was shocked, gently patting Johnny VIII’s back, "If the Lord favored the Falan people, why let you become Pope to correct things?"

"Xie Li, you have a promising future." Feeling a bit emotional, Johnny VIII held onto his shoulder, "You’ll surely attain a Cardinal’s position, but that decree might not come from my hands."

Xie Li supported Johnny VIII firmly: "You shouldn’t say things like that."

"I only have three years left, or perhaps two years." Johnny VIII gazed through the window, his view seemingly piercing through the walls and mountains, landing on the Royal Capital of the Leia Kingdom—Changge City.

"Lord, forgive me, I am compelled to gamble, am I not?"