Edge of the Apocalypse
Chapter 561: Past Events

Lucy asked for the stack of paper that she couldn't see out of the door. Her Royal Highness said that there was nothing she could do, so she just happened to study Vera's "graffiti". Alan knew that she was concerned about him and did not point out anything. However, the gazes in the eyes of the two of them were a little more gentle. Seeing this, Adele snorted and left the restaurant on the pretext of practicing her spear.

Everyone dispersed. Beth Cod wanted to go to the academy to see if he could leave behind some assassination skills in the combat skill instruction. Edward, on the other hand, needed to immediately begin the work of forging identities, which required a great deal of manpower, and their fabricated identities had to be widely circulated. Memories are wonderful, and if they are emphasized again and again. Then even if it was just an illusion, it would still become a "fact" in people's memories.

That's what Edward wants when someone investigates their history. If you hear ten people say the same answer, you may be suspicious. But if it was a hundred people, a thousand people would say so. Even if these identities were fake, it would still become a fact.

However, such "truthfulness" required time to ferment. Fortunately, they still had time.

So Father Miro became the only idle person in the restaurant.

Alan patted him on the shoulder and said, "Take a walk to the church."

It wasn't Monday, and it was afternoon, but there were still a few believers in and out of the church. Along the way, Miro had already given Alan a brief report. Now, there were more than ten thousand followers of the Church, some of whom were nobles or officials. This group of people was Miro's main target, and they also made great contributions to the Church. There was no doubt that officials and nobles were much more influential than ordinary people when it came to the spread of the Church.

Moreover, the resources they had donated were crucial to the establishment of the Crusaders. Of course, the power of ordinary people could not be ignored. Miro knew very well that ordinary believers were the foundation of the Church. Without a foundation, the Church would only be on the verge of collapse. So every month, Miro had set aside a few specific days for church activities. On the day of the event, Miro would give a portion of the resources to families living in difficult circumstances in the territory for free, thus creating a glorious image for the Church.

A bright image is important. Along the way, Miro had emphasized this point more than once.

The windows of the cathedral shone brightly, and in the afternoon the bright sunlight fell on the stained glass of the cathedral, reflecting a multicolored halo that painted the cathedral with a sacred colour. Within the church, Jesus' crucifixion stood tall, so that everyone who entered the church could see it at the first possible moment. The statue shows the mercy of God in a vivid way, reminding the church of the spirit of sacrifice and sacrifice.

This is a subtle process, through the dissemination of church personnel, and even church activities, as well as statues, paintings of hints, so that faith can be deeply rooted in the hearts of the people. And mastering the hearts of people was equivalent to mastering the world.

After Miro entered the church, he put on a dignified look, causing Alan to shake his head in his heart. The priest went to the sermon platform and prayed sincerely to the statue before returning to Allen's side.

Alan sat quietly in a row of empty seats, looking up at the statue in front of him, not saying a word for a long time.

It wasn't until Miro coughed that Alan suddenly said, "Father, have you heard Archimedes mention the path of burning blood?"

"What path?" At first, Miro was a little distracted, but suddenly he thought of something and said, "You said the path of burning blood? How do you know the path of burning blood!"

His tone was extremely shocked, and his voice echoed in the huge church, causing several believers and nuns to cast puzzled gazes at him. Miro hurriedly smiled and sat back down in an impeccable position. Then, he lowered his voice and said, "Young Master Allen, you have already opened the path of burning blood?"

Alan narrowed his eyes and said, "Looks like you do know something, but I'm curious. Why haven't you mentioned such an important matter before?"

Miro did not avoid his gaze, but sighed, "Because your father said that he would never allow this fate to appear on his descendants. However, from the looks of it, it seems that he did not succeed."

"Really?"

"Absolutely true!" Miro said confidently.

"Then about Archimedes, there's still the path to burning blood. Is there anything you want to tell me?" Alan's voice was very soft, like the wind blowing from the lake. However, his fingers trembled slightly.

Milo raised his head and looked at the statue of the church. "Speaking of which, it was the second time I saw Archimedes. I remember that year, after a frightened night in the storm, I found the ceiling of my poor chapel collapsing the next day …"

As he spoke, Miro felt as if the air around him was getting wet, just like that heart-wrenching morning. When he arrived at the church and looked at the water on the ground and the fallen statue of Jesus, Miro's heart felt like a knife. He could even calculate exactly how much it would cost to repair the ceiling, the statue and clean up the stagnant water. Of course, if this was a well-known church, it wouldn't be a big problem to raise money from believers. Those lovely people are always happy to give generously, but damn it, it's just a church in a shabby town.

Most importantly, the town's followers were far from devout. Thus, the priest could foresee that he would have to spend the little money he had accumulated with great difficulty. This was an extremely painful thing for him. It was like watching his beloved marry another man. If the priest had someone he liked.

However, the church could not let him go. After all, this was where he lived. And without a church, how could he fool the old things in town? Although they could not be called devout, they were still able to deceive them sometimes. No, they were giving away some of their belongings.

Therefore, Father Miro still took out all his savings. He walked out of the church and tried to call the damned carpenter over to the town, but the priest saw him as soon as he left the church. Archimedes, the mountain-sized man, was lying in a small garden outside the church covered in blood, which had dyed the crimson flowers and plants damaged by the wind and rain.

Father Miro's face was pale, and he really wanted to kick this drunkard out of the church, a man who loved credit, had no taste, and always brought a lot of trouble. But considering Archimedes is not dead, if he wakes up and finds himself treated like that. If he was angry, he would probably take off his head, so Father Miro could only curse and drag the man covered in blood into the church.

Archimedes woke up after noon. The first thing the priest did when he woke up was to tell him how much potion and gauze he had used. Most importantly, these items were all for money! The priest never gave in on the subject of money, and Archimedes would not lose a penny even if he wanted to kill him. In his words, money was as sacred as divine grace!

"Damn it, Milo. I have a headache right now. Can you please don't count it? No matter how much it is, I'll pay you back." Archimedes said, covering his forehead. This rough man was always so careless that he had forgotten that he still owed the priest wine last time.

Miro's face was as dark as the rain. In the end, he definitely wouldn't be able to squeeze out a few copper coins from Archimedes, so he gave up the great plan of asking him to pay off some of his debts first. Instead, he asked, "What are you doing? You look so miserable, you almost got killed?"

"Indeed, I thought I was going to die this time." Archimedes grinned, his bearded face seemingly heartless and heartless.

Miro said viciously, "It's rare to see a man like you almost killed by someone. I can't help but want to see this great man."

Archimedes' smile disappeared from his face. "Trust me, friend. He's not as kind as I am. You definitely don't want to see him. My brother isn't a good man. He usually dies wherever he appears. A lot of people die!"

Miro's expression was as if he had swallowed a rotten egg and said, "You actually have brothers, the Almighty God of Heaven, benevolent you, how could you allow such a calamity to happen?"

"Hey, don't make me sound like a god of plague!" Archimedes wanted to raise his hand in protest, but with a move like this, the bandage was immediately dyed red by the priest's foot-restraining bandaging technique. "But maybe you're right, we're like unfortunate people who will bring disaster. But I didn't expect that guy to come. Damn it, the path to burning blood is still open."

"What path?" The priest's ears twitched as he asked.

Archimedes waved his hand and said, "Don't ask if there are any. Do you have any wine, Milo?"

"Do you want to die? Bastard, it took me a long time to get you back. If you want to die, I'll pay you back."

"Cut the crap, I know you have wine. Bastard, I already smell the wine. Bring the wine, or I'll tear down the church!" Archimedes said with a rogue look.

"You bastard, sooner or later you'll go to hell," Miro said, trembling with anger.

Archimedes said disapprovingly, "I'm already in hell, you idiot."

Archimedes reluctantly took out a bottle of vodka from his collection as if he had forgotten about his injuries. He popped the cork with his thumb and sighed, "It's not much, but it's good to have it on the ground. Where did you get it, Milo?"

"Cut the crap. This bottle of wine costs you 1,000 yuan for a sip!" Miro shrieked because he saw that his collection was a quarter missing and soon two thirds was left.

Archimedes is a big drinker.

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