I'm really a serious wizard.

Chapter 151 Facing Cyrus VII

A compassionate chosen one?
What a mess!
A hush fell over the lounge. Silas was shocked, his face draining of color, completely unprepared for this answer.

"impossible!"

That's a "chosen one of mercy," a uniquely wicked species that only appears once every few centuries.

Simply mentioning a child's name can stop them from crying,

If it appears in a certain area, the housing prices in that area will definitely drop.

They are evil, cruel, and cunning, and their ability to deceive, manipulate, and torture others is perverse and brutal.

At that moment, Silas imagined many things, fearing that his growing influence would attract the attention of the "Chosen Ones" and lead to their secret targeting.

Calm down. According to the Vatican's intelligence, the chosen one who was born just half a month ago suddenly disappeared without a trace, but now he has actually appeared in the capital. This could very well be my chance.
Yes, an opportunity to be promoted to Archbishop of the White Robes!

Even if this was done by a merciful god, so what? It only slightly tarnished my reputation. Once I catch this guy in full view of the public, I will surely gain the support of the people.

Thinking of this, Silas felt relieved, wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, and resumed his arrogant posture.

Even if God's chosen one is incredibly capable, it's impossible for him to openly infiltrate the courtroom and enter this lounge, fooling him like a grandson.

"Your Excellency, do you know the name of that merciful chosen one?"

Silas said again, almost instinctively.

Ron shook his head, indicating that this was all he knew.

He then took the opportunity to say goodbye, and with Silas's consent, he pulled Wilson toward the door.

As for upholding justice and taking this opportunity to kill Silas, Ron didn't even consider it.

First, I have a dependent child in my family.

Secondly, he wasn't so arrogant as to settle things with his opponent in the heart of the courtroom, as that would cost him his life.

But just then, Ron suddenly stopped in his tracks, realizing that Wilson was looking at him with a knowing look.

It was as if she was saying, "Mom won't let me go with that strange old man."

Ron felt helpless, so he leaned close to his ear and whispered in his natural voice:
"it's me."

Just those two words were enough to make the handsome, burly Wilson hold his breath and widen his eyes slightly.

He will never forget that voice.

It was a shadow that had haunted him since childhood, and a nightmare that he could never shake off.

It's him!

That's someone else's child!
Ron's miserable life began the moment he arrived at Dawn Lane.

He couldn't compete with his opponent in academics, and he was even worse in the field of magic. Despite being two years younger than him, this annoying guy became a mage apprentice at an extremely fast pace and graduated from a low-end magic academy.

Wilson is a man of principle and would never accept help from his "sworn enemy"!

“I was sent by Mr. Victor.”

Upon hearing his father's name, Wilson's eyes instantly cleared, and he obediently followed behind Ron.

"and many more!"

At this moment, Silas, who had been worried about the "chosen one of mercy," suddenly called out to the two of them.

The old man in the gray robe felt a chill and turned to look at the chief judge.

To be honest, Ron's plan wasn't without flaws and oversights.

For example, the origin of the fake identity, the traces of submitting articles to the newspaper, and the coincidental provision of information.

The boy only hoped that Silas would focus his attention on "the Chosen One of Compassion".

You should be glad you didn't try to lie to me!

"otherwise."

The chief judge, who was in charge of the court, gave a cold laugh, vividly illustrating what it means to turn one's back on someone.

With that, he waved his hand, as if shooing away flies, to drive Ron and Wilson out of the lounge.

Two tiny insects aren't worth all the trouble he's going to do.

The key now is to figure out the identity of that "compassionate chosen one".

The tense atmosphere in the lounge eased slightly, and Ron stepped out of the room.

The long corridor inside the courtroom was empty, with exquisite murals painted in ink on the walls, and every few meters there would be a symbol of crossed swords.

It's best to leave this dangerous place as soon as possible.
With this thought in mind, Ron quickened his pace unconsciously.

The echoing footsteps resonated sharply in the silent corridor. Fortunately, the journey went smoothly; Ron and his companion encountered no significant obstacles—or rather, they didn't run into a single member of the Inquisition.

This made him increasingly uneasy. When he arrived at the magnificent arched gate of the courthouse, which was ten meters high, Ron suddenly stopped.

Inside the arched gate, there were deacons and rank-and-file saints dressed in light armor, their numbers almost filling the entire hall.

Ron's first reaction was that Silas had sensed something was wrong and was gathering people to chop him into minced meat.

But then he saw the excited and fanatical expressions of the saints and felt something was amiss.

Ron stood on tiptoe and looked in the direction most people were looking, his eyebrows suddenly furrowing.

An elderly man with white hair and beard, and a kind face, was being helped down from a white-robed bishop with white hair and bloodshot eyes by a white-haired bishop.

The carriage roof was gold, the carriage body was gold, the frame was gold, and even the wheels were gold.

Upon seeing this scene, Ron first swallowed hard, inwardly criticizing the carriage owner for his extravagance, before noticing the old man wearing a triple crown and holding a fine gold scepter.

In this world with extraordinary powers, social classes still exist, and are even more rigid.

There are probably only a handful of people in the entire Kingdom of Oran who can afford to use a carriage of this standard.

Even though Ron had never met the Pope, he now knew the old man's identity.

Cyrus VII, the representative of the Holy Light God, lived for a very long time, possessed great power, and was an extremely old silver coin.
This is trouble.

The thought had barely crossed his mind when he saw the crowd filling the hall part to the sides.

Immediately, everyone knelt on one knee, bowed their heads, placed their right hands on their hearts, and praised in unison:

"Homage to you with the radiance of holy light, the supreme Holy Throne."

Such a grand scene should have prompted Ron to express his admiration, but he was in no mood for it at the moment.

Because everyone in the entire hall suddenly knelt down, leaving him standing naked and conspicuous.

Ron lowered his eyes and looked at Wilson, who was kneeling more quickly than anyone else, and he was furious.

Huh? You were being so tough just now.

Aren't you a proud mage who is sworn enemies of the Vatican?
Ron's lips twitched, and he subconsciously wanted to bend down to tie his shoelaces.

But he sadly discovered that the shoes he was wearing had no shoelaces.

Why not kneel?

At that moment, a dignified and holy female voice reached Ron's ears.

He glanced up instinctively and saw the white-haired, blood-eyed archbishop standing beside Cyrus VII staring intently at him.

"Why should I kneel?" Ron retorted confidently, determined to present the facts and reason with the public.

After all, he couldn't just directly provoke him by saying he wasn't afraid, could he?

That old guy's got guts!

Upon hearing this, Saint Lillian's breath hitched, and she clicked her tongue inwardly in amazement, but maintaining the professional demeanor, she still explained in detail:

"This is His Holiness Cyrus VII. According to the rules of the Vatican, he must kneel to show respect to the divine authority."

Hmph, quite the big shot, huh?
Ron inwardly pursed his lips, pondered for a moment, and then said very seriously:

"Madam, you can't say that. According to the Holy Bible, the clergy of the Vatican are merely servants of God, including the Pope himself."

"Do you get me?"

Upon hearing this, a hint of confusion appeared in Saint Lillian's eyes.
That's exactly what the Holy Bible says, but she still didn't understand what Ron meant.

Why can't the servants of the gods make you kneel?

Seeing the white-robed archbishop's confusion, Ron was heartbroken and sighed before offering another hint.

"Madam, may I ask you, how does the Holy Light God address his believers?"

"Did He say, 'I am your Father in heaven'?"

In an instant, the entire hall fell silent.

Hey!
The white-haired, blood-red-pupiled woman cursed inwardly, almost laughing in anger, and retorted with a very grim expression:
"You mean, His Holiness the Pope and I actually have to kowtow to you?!"

Ron hesitated for a moment, then nodded emphatically.

"Uh, right!"

Hearing this, Wilson, who was kneeling on the ground and just wanted to remain a nobody, felt a chill run down his spine.

Brother, shut up! Are you here to save me or to silence me?!
(End of this chapter)