"Hng hng ah ah ah ah——"
The sudden loud shout startled the crows resting by the branches, almost causing them to fall from the trees.
Horn’s once kind and peaceful face suddenly turned ferocious, his nostrils constantly twitching, arms extended, his entire body shaking and convulsing.
Foaming at the mouth, Horn drew an infinity sign in the air with his head, his hands sometimes spreading like an eagle, and sometimes crossing over his chest.
"Yee yee yee yee yee——"
"Woo woo woo woo woo——"
Horn’s legs crossed, and his hands twisted together like pretzels, while he let out a nearly continuous long howl, drowning out the fervent discussions.
With the practice of the knight’s breathing technique and the enhancement of extraordinary abilities, Horn’s ability to embody the Holy Father reached unprecedented heights.
He could not only pose in even more bizarre positions with his flexible body trained by the breathing technique, but also continuously adjust his breathing to make the shrill cries from his mouth even more prolonged.
Under the enhancement of one segment of the breathing technique, the effect of embodying the Holy Father improved so much.
Imagine the extent of his performance once he achieved the strength of three segments of the breathing technique!
Sure enough, the strange and horrific atmosphere now was much stronger than before.
"The Holy Father has descended, worship the Holy Father!"
With the synchronized cries of Busak and Jeska, the villagers of Red Mill Village all knelt down.
When Horn shouted, they raised their hands high and piously pressed their foreheads to the ground.
When Horn convulsed, they straightened up, letting out corresponding cries.
The refugees outside the Gulag Monastery opened their eyes wide, unable to understand what was happening.
They stared at the frantically convulsing Horn under the moonlight, those mysterious actions, those piercing cries, seeming to bear what should not be borne.
Surrounding Horn in the middle, the Pope’s Guards’ faces showed fanaticism, undulating like waves with Horn’s voice.
Under the moonlight, the Holy Mark on Horn’s neck seemed to glow brightly.
Could it be... the real Holy Father?
The refugees began to fear, it didn’t seem like acting.
"Sincerely thank Saint Father Baine, for bestowing upon me body and spirit, hail merciful Saint Master, joyfully cleanse me of my sins."
At some point, amidst the hymn of the Pope’s Guards, the rest of the refugees began singing together, many even weakened at the knees and followed to kneel.
"Madness, madness!" Tommy’s fearful cries were so piercing amidst the hymn.
Initially, it was those belonging to the Holy Ten Households of the Pope’s Guard singing reflexively, and as the crowd effect fermented, most people sang along.
As the chorus reached its climax, Horn, rolling his eyes and twitching at the corners of his mouth, suddenly returned to calm and peacefulness.
The hymn slowly ceased, and everyone’s eyes focused on Horn, as if the preceding dance and hymn had draped him with a gossamer of divinity and fear.
"I am the Holy Father!"
Horn’s erect body suddenly hunched, squeezing two nasolabial folds onto his face, he felt his nonexistent beard, eyes looking skywards.
Beneath his gaze, the refugees kneeled, silent like lambs.
Only Tommy and others stood rigidly, so abruptly.
Horn would rather risk being exposed, directly embodying the Holy Father, while Tommy simply tore away the last fig leaf.
He pointed his short sword at Horn, "You think, with a dance and some incomprehensible shouts, people would believe you’re the Holy Father?"
Tommy’s words elicited no response, merely echoing across the empty hillside.
Everything was silent, the voice steeped in fear even seemed slightly off-tune.
There was no expression on Horn’s face, still not looking at the crowd, but rather gazing upward at an angle, still wearing a benevolent expression.
"Rekado, are you here?"
"Holy Father, your devout believer is here."
Though not knowing why the Holy Father called him, Rekado hurriedly mimicked Kosse’s actions, pushing his hands on the ground and sliding forward over a meter on his knees.
"Rekado, you have listened to the gospel many times yet refuse to repent, such indulgence of men and women, and disturbing the moral order, is forbidden by the commandments!"
This time, the Holy Father did not have his previous kindness, but an imposing and awe-inspiring dignity.
The voice was not loud, but to Rekado, it was like a bell tolling in the evening, solidifying his blood, making the world before him blur.
How could he forget, the Holy Father naturally knows all things in the world, each time he thought he could deceive everyone.
But the Holy Father knew everything.
Fear turned into nausea; he wanted to kneel again, but his entire body collapsed to the ground.
"Holy Father, Holy Father, I know my wrongs, I know my wrongs," Rekado sobbed, trembling all over.
Horn paid him no mind, instead casting his gaze to the sky, "Has Doyle of the Ruilan Family arrived?"
Not far away, the refugees who had been kneeling quickly made way, exposing Doyle, trembling continuously on the ground, to everyone.
"Doyle, the devil’s mission is to steal, rob, and deceive. Stealing from one’s own kin is an even worse sin!"
Horn shouted sternly, and everyone’s eyes were fixed on Doyle.
Doyle’s complexion was as pale as bone, his whole body shaking like a sieve.
A middle-aged farmer shouted in disbelief, lunging at him.
"I was wondering who stole the money I hid, turns out it was you, you bastard!"
"Don’t hit me, I’ve realized my mistake."
"That was your sister’s dowry, and you still stole it?"
"So what if I stole it, don’t I need to get married too? You just want to keep me around for your old age!"
Ignoring the tussle between the father and son, Horn continued to look skyward, "Has Dora of the Chick Family arrived?"
"Dora, you slander your friends in secret, is this what a believer should do?"
"Oune, you secretly used your sweaty hands to soil another’s Falan baguette..."
"Murig, you led another’s sheep back to your own pen, that is undoubtedly theft..."
In the silent night, Horn, based on information collected by the Child Soldiers, identified seven or eight people’s misdeeds and secrets.
Each person named turned pale, kneeling and continuously confessing with tears streaming down.
Among them were both members of the Pope Guard and refugees, but none were wrongly accused.
Whenever someone knelt, the remaining others displayed more panic and reverence on their faces.
The wind grew stronger, even causing the bell in the bell tower to wobble with a faint ringing sound.
In the night sky, the bell’s sound, the sound of confession, and the wind’s cry mixed with Horn’s awe-inspiring and aged hoarse voice into one.
The lingering notes of the hymn remained melodious, the piercing and mysterious shouting reverberated in the ears; though the world before them was the same, when Horn stood there, everything seemed different.
Tommy was perplexed, he stared at Horn who seemed to stand there with infinite majesty, utterly confused.
To think that the secrets and sins Horn revealed were often committed in extremely private circumstances, sometimes only the offender was present, and yet they could be known?
Looking at Horn’s eyes, which were majestic and aloof, a feeling of unprecedented fear pressed on Tommy’s heart.
Could it be the Holy Father has truly descended?
Was my earlier speculation all wrong?
Cold sweat dripped down from Tommy’s forehead as the thugs and Armed Farmers guarding him bowed their heads and gradually retreated.
"Tommy, do you know your sin?" The aged and hoarse voice sounded again.
This voice wasn’t loud, yet to Tommy’s ears, it was like a thunderbolt, causing his knees to buckle involuntarily as he knelt.
"I had long warned you, Horn is the true son of Miseria, my true grandson. With him, all difficulties will pass, yet you all refused to listen!
Horn is my only eye in the mortal realm, able to see all things. Showing disrespect to him is showing disrespect to me!
Tommy, you isolated the Pope’s Palace from inside and out, forged papal decrees, and even assaulted the faithful, yet you refuse to admit your various crimes!
Horn was willing to be lenient with you, but you countered with a false treaty, causing people to distrust each other. Do you know your sin?"
Tommy’s throat was dry, he wanted to speak, but could utter nothing, only able to constantly tremble with a dismal face.
"Even if humanity forgets, and history is altered, I will show no mercy."
"My words end here, farewell to heaven—"
As soon as these words were spoken, the previously incredibly majestic Horn suddenly collapsed, startling the nearby people to rush forward to support him.
Yet the Master Saint Grandson Pope continued to twitch for a good while before returning to normal.
With the support of the crowd, Horn stood up with a bitter smile, "The Holy Father’s might is something my mere mortal body finds hard to bear."
Rubbing the muscle on his calf, Horn secretly warned himself, not to perform high-difficulty stunts just for show effects in the future, as it had caused cramps.
Countless people buried their heads into the ground, gazing at Horn with extreme fanaticism.
Those who were previously loud in doubt were lying prone on the ground, not daring to move a muscle.
"Earlier, the crimes committed were due to the ignorance of the Holy Father’s watchfulness, thus I shall redeem and baptize you, but it can only absolve worldly sins."
Disregarding the "sinners" who were left disheartened by the last sentence, Horn looked at the confused Tommy, "As for Archbishop Tommy, alas, why make things come to this way?
Rest assured, the blame lies solely with the main culprit, not the others. Tommy is to receive forty lashes, enter the prison for penance, and be stripped of the title of Cardinal, yet retain his position as Metropolitan Bishop of Thousand River Valley, while the position of Cardinal is to be granted to Priest Kosse!"