My summons are weird

The bloody smell of Civita has not dissipated. On the street, black spots are clearly visible in the grooves of the bluestone that have not been washed clean by the water.

Batch after batch of nobles and their families were executed by the silent black owls.

Diweik didn't show these people face. He was not in a good mood recently, and watching the execution from a distance became part of his decompression.

Diweik didn't quite understand why these nobles had the illusion that they could kill themselves by attracting the yeti. Could it be that they already lacked a baseline assessment of Solon's high-level power?

Or they have been in the frontier all year round, far away from the capital, making their brains like whips on slaves, and they have begun to wear out over time...

Divic dismissed the idea—at least the whip was in use, and the brains of these people were probably moldy.

The black owl reported the number of executed nobles without emotion, and the list they took out casually fell to the ground and unfolded with the wind, just like the long skirts of ladies attending a banquet.

Diweik shook the wine glass, and under his knees, a servant knelt down on the ground, holding up a book for Diweik to read in his spare time.

"Royer, any news?"

Divic interrupted the death roll to ask about a man who had long since disappeared.

"The black owl is searching for traces of him and Shalem."

"There's no need to search for Shalem, what I want is Royer." Divic rubbed his brows, "Tell the Feidina family, I know this matter has nothing to do with them...turn the page."

The servant who stayed in the posture for too long resisted his sore arms and turned the pages of the book tremblingly.

A black owl walked with the wind, and he entered the lord's mansion unimpeded all the way, and he yelled out before he could stop his body.

"Pope Laurent was seriously ill and died early this morning."

The rose-red wine spilled out.

Divic stood up slowly and walked to the black owl who reported the news.

"died?"

"The Theocracy communicated the information to all the large city-states in the territory with the communication circle...I believe that as long as they are not in a barren land, the believers of the Theocracy have already heard the news."

Divic was silent for a while, then laughed loudly: "The Theocracy no longer has Laurent."

"According to etiquette, should we..."

Divic hesitated for a moment, then suppressed his smile: "The new Pope should meet."

"You will continue to be responsible for the follow-up matters of Civita. I hope that when I come back, there will be no damn people left."

"Inform Zenier and the others that they are going to go to the Holy Kingdom with me to offer condolences."

...

...

Royal City of Sligo, the bedroom of King Noel XIII.

Noel XIII, whose privacy was only covered by his loincloths, was holding a knight's long spear and kept stabbing motionless. His sturdy body seemed to have ripples of water under the light cast by the crystal chandelier that the craftsmen spent time and effort to build, warming the air. The yellow light outlines the undulating lines of his arms, and this angle is just right to put his muscular chest in just the right haze.

Four glamorous painters surrounded Noel XIII, set up drawing boards, and drew the "Emperor Breaking the Battle" for him from different angles.

Sligo's becoming a veritable fashion capital is inseparable from Noel himself. He wears different clothes, uses himself as a model, draws different portraits, and exhibits them in the bedroom. The beautiful woman writing the pen discusses life...

Noel did not refer to painters as mistresses. He always believed that the ambiguous title of "mistress" was needed only for sneaking.

"Yes, I put them to sleep." Facing the nobles' questions, Noel said so, and threw out the Four Great Kingdoms... No, it was a statement that all the races in the entire Mera continent were amazed by.

"I slept, and then I gave them a new identity, a new job, and I admitted it openly... Then this is not an affair. The gods can learn from it, and some people who call themselves gentlemen have enjoyed their cuteness body, after experiencing the wonderful joy, they forgot all the promises to each other, and used the 'shameful' prevarication... In comparison, I seem to be nobler than them?"

This is just the tip of the iceberg of Noel's hobbies, which are always expensive.

The speed at which he spends money is a headache for the nobles of Sligo, but he can always bring new income to Sligo in strange ways, and once again enters the closed loop of spending money like water...

The hand holding the gun was sore, Noel let go of the spear, and the buzzing sound of metal echoed in the empty bedroom. He walked towards one of the painters without thinking, and leaned against the bed with his arms around her.

"Your Majesty, Laurent has passed away."

No one knew how this person appeared in the empty palace, they were silent and silent.

Noel seemed to think that the weather was too hot, so he thoughtfully cooled the painter down—he didn't care that the Silent One was behind him, and it would be nice for someone to appreciate his majesty and sing about it.

The Silent Ones did not repeat.

Noel's movements slowed down, and he turned his head slowly, his eyes full of doubt and shock.

After staring at each other silently, Noel sat on the edge of the bed, looking out of the bedroom, speechless for a long time.

"when?"

"This morning."

"Disease?"

"It is believed, yes," replied the Silent One. "There is no need for Theocracy to lie about this. No one wants him to leave."

Noel lowered his head, and his voice was a little depressed: "Go get ready, and head to the Pope City tonight."

After the Silent Man left, Noel kept that posture motionless, and the painters didn't dare to disturb him.

After a long time, he said tremblingly, "I'm in a bad mood, you guys go back..."

In the cold palace, Noel looked at the sunlight coming in, and murmured: "The glorious era... is over."

...

...

In the Earl of the Beasts of Cordzon, the young Ravennis IV enjoyed waves of cheers and cheers accompanied by two "monsters" who looked like beasts and had scars all over their bodies.

These noisy voices did not belong to Ravennis, but to the two alien slaves who were fighting in the Colosseum.

Forbidden demons, no weapons, two naked alien slaves punched to the flesh, and every time they made a move, the human race onlookers on the scene burst into deafening applause, and those holding lottery tickets were even more red-eyed. With the fighting skills waving fists.

Ravennis, who was only twenty years old this year, had struggled to quell several disputes among the nobles in the country. After realizing that in order to stabilize his position, he must be obeyed by the absolute force at the border of the empire, so he came to the Earl of the Evil Beast without hesitation.

Facing the emperor who was protected by only a few shadow guards, many nobles in the Earl of Evil Beasts were amazed and admired his extraordinary courage.

The two evil beast counts led Ravennis into the Colosseum. Ravennis did not feel uncomfortable, but said as usual: "The intensity of the confrontation is still low. Although punching to the flesh is exciting, it can't make the audience more excited. .”

The two Earls of Evil Beasts looked at each other, and when they were about to ask their subordinates to modify the rules, the Shadow Guard came to Ravennis and whispered.

Ravennis was stunned for a moment, and then sneered: "The troublesome guy is finally dead...Let's go, let's send him off for the last time."

There will be more later (it will be relative to the underworld, so stay up late and wait cautiously). This chapter should actually be published after last night's chapter, but when I wrote it at the time, I generally found that it didn't fit the atmosphere of the previous chapter.

I can't stand it anymore, I fell asleep