I'm really a serious wizard.

Chapter 226 Learning a Foreign Language

Inside the colorful garden with its dome.

It was late at night, but warm, colorful sunlight still streamed down from the dome, dispelling all the darkness in the garden.

"The Chosen One of the Holy Light is of great significance to the Vatican, but his origins are unknown, and he has not received any orthodox training from the Vatican. I refuse to accept him as one of us!"

"Bormon Campbell, you son of a bitch! He's a chosen one, there hasn't been one like him in hundreds of years, and you're turning him away?"

"Bullshit! How do you know he's not a spy for another faction?!"

A series of noisy sounds came from the garden, and the few people who were arguing with each other seemed to have split into two factions.

They argued so fiercely that neither would give in, causing Coster, who was also a white-robed archbishop among these people, to lean back in disgust.

Vulgar and crude, obsessed with profit, utterly devoid of any semblance of perfection.
As the thought flashed through his mind, he subconsciously looked at Cyrus VII, who sat at the head of the table, holding a scepter.

Tonight's cardinal meeting was initiated by this supreme leader of the Vatican.

Its content is about how to deal with the two chosen ones of the Holy Light who appear in the capital at the same time.

One of them was a confidant of the Stardust Society's leader, while the other was an unknown hermit.

dong dong dong-

"Quiet!"

At this moment, Cyrus VII, who was at the head of the group, tapped the floor with the bottom of his scepter. After the entire garden fell into extreme silence, he glanced at the eight archbishops who had rushed back for the "Eternal Day".

"Bishop Tina didn't return?"

"Your Holiness, Tina asked me to pass on a message to you: there seems to be something unusual in the coastal diocese under her jurisdiction, and she cannot easily return to report for duty."

Among the many people dressed in white, a burly man with a square-like build spoke loudly.

Upon hearing this, Cyrus VII nodded, believing the words of the Orthodox bishop.

He took a deep breath and said in a hoarse voice:
"Ladies and gentlemen, the Vatican is now at a critical juncture, facing life and death."

"I believe that you have all felt, to some extent, that the order created by the Gods is collapsing, and that perversion and crime in the Kingdom of Oran are rising exponentially."

"Moral and ethical boundaries have been crossed, and chaos and disorder are eroding reality."

"And among us, there are also those who cannot hold fast to dogma."

"All of this points to the fact that there is a problem with the God."

At this point, Cyrus VII, ignoring the astonished looks from the audience as if they were looking at a madman, continued:

"He may have fallen into a deep sleep, or he may be unable to sustain the burden of the entire world..."

"Then shouldn't we need God's Chosen one even more now?"

At this moment, Coster raised his hand and spoke.

As soon as he finished speaking, the meeting fell silent.

However, before he could continue speaking, he was immediately met with opposition from most people. Even the two groups that had just been arguing and cursing each other suddenly joined forces.

"No, this matter needs to be considered more carefully."

"That's right, Coster, your idea is too radical!"

"Whether God's choice is true or not is still unknown. His Holiness the Pope only said that it looks like it, but has not yet confirmed it."

"What if he's an imposter, a sorcerer practicing holy light?"

"Without the divine decree of the God, he must be an imposter!"

As the discussion intensified, the cardinals seemed to have reached some consensus on the issue of God's choice.

Coster could see it, and he could feel it.

Behind the fervor of these people, it seems, lies some shared understanding, a consensus reached.

They spouted righteousness and morality, but the excitement and anticipation that perhaps even they themselves were unaware of reminded Koster of someone.

That was the Grand Inquisitor, Silas, who died in the line of duty, his head severed by a single sword stroke.

"Quiet!" At this moment, Cyrus VII tapped the floor with his scepter once again.

In an instant, the entire garden fell silent once more, and all eyes were fixed on the old man sitting at the head of the table.

Upon seeing this, Cyrus said in a deep voice:
"Everyone, the Eternal Day Festival is just one day away, and on that day I will communicate with the God to confirm the identity of the chosen one."

"Alright, that concludes the meeting."

-

In the simple, not-so-spacious guest room, Ron opened his eyes after finishing his meditation, sitting cross-legged on the bed.

Alone in the enemy's camp, he had to remain vigilant at all times.

Especially given that Cyrus's attitude toward this chosen one was unknown.

Hmm, based on the information we have now, the existence of the Chosen One should be a bad thing for Cyrus...

A pope dedicated to reforming the gods and attempting to change the upright position to the reversed one should not, under any circumstances, cause trouble at this time...

Are people who do bad things born promiscuous?

Tuk-tuk-tuk——

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

Ron's heart tightened, and he quickly jumped off the bed, gripping the "Sword of Victory and Oath" tightly under his robe.

Ron also altered the appearance of the sword, replacing the scabbard with a mismatched white-gold color, and also disguised the hilt and handle accordingly.

He stepped forward, placed his hand on the doorknob, and asked in a strong, aged voice:
"who is it?"

"My lord, I am a nun from the Holy Church. I have come late at night to ask you some questions, specifically about ancient languages..."

?

Late at night, nun, is it possible for a single old man to come to your room to learn ancient Chinese?
Do you all in the Vatican like to study at midnight?

Ron's lips twitched; it wasn't that he had dirty thoughts.
Instead, it was the last time I studied a foreign language in a private suite late at night...

Tuk-tuk-tuk——

There was another knock on the door, and the nun's voice outside gradually changed from cold and aloof to sweet and charming.

"Sir, please open the door! I've really come to ask you some questions."

Yes, you were indeed asking a question, but whether it was serious or not is hard to say...

Ron muttered to himself, unlocked the door, pressed the handle, and opened the door.

A delicate fragrance wafted through the air, and in the quiet corridor late at night, a pretty brown-haired woman smiled faintly.

Although she wasn't as beautiful as the other ladies Ron knew, she had a great figure, was incredibly hot, and possessed a unique charm that Ron had never seen before.

So sexy...

Ron felt that she was more like a mistress of a powerful man or a streetwalker than a nun.

No, perhaps it's worse...

Ron had heard that in remote areas of the capital, some nobles or wealthy merchants kept beautiful female slaves.

Each ball allows them to connect with other nobles, merchants, and other powerful and influential people, fostering relationships and building camaraderie.

"Sir~"

Seeing Ron standing there dumbfounded, the voluptuous nun chuckled and made as if to throw herself into his arms.

But just then, the nun saw the light.

She saw endless radiance, her past life, and her long-deceased grandmother waving to her.

The knife the nun had concealed under her sleeve fell to the ground with a series of crisp sounds.

(End of this chapter)