547: Chapter 548 Winter Difficulty

This winter in Europa was longer and colder than ever before.

A bone-chilling north wind howled across the English Channel, freezing the entire continent into a massive block of ice. The River Thames had long since frozen over, and one could even drive a carriage across the River Seine.

However, what brought more despair to the monarchs of the Western nations than the bitter cold was the economic noose coming from the East.

The great ming treasure note, a slip of paper once regarded as a symbol of wealth, had now become a sword hanging over their heads. With the Ming Dynasty's reduction in coal export quotas and the intensification of their "cultural invasion," the social order of the European nations was on the brink of collapse.

Rome, Vatican City.

This former center of theocracy now appeared unusually desolate. The square was no longer filled with devout pilgrims, but instead with throngs of ragged, gaunt rioters. They held high banners, cursing not only the weather but also the incompetent church.

"God has abandoned us!"

"We need coal! We need bread!"

"To hell with their great ming treasure note! Give us back our gold!"

Pope Gregory XI stood on the balcony of St. Peter's Basilica, watching the seething crowd below; his murky old eyes were filled with malice and fear.

Once upon a time, a single word from him could make kings kneel and Empires tremble.

But now, that distant Ming Emperor, with just a few black ships and a few slips of paper, had trampled the dignity of the Holy See underfoot. Even those illiterate farmers were now constantly saying "Confucius says," which was intolerable to him, who considered himself the spokesperson for God.

"Your Majesty, secret letters from the King of France and the King of England have arrived again."

A Cardinal hurried in, looking flustered. "They say their treasuries are empty. The Ming bank refuses to exchange any more great ming treasure note unless... unless we agree to build Confucian temples next to our churches and require our clergy to pass a Chinese language exam."

"Absurd! Blasphemy!"

Gregory XI angrily slammed his scepter onto the ground, producing a dull thud. "This is an attempt to completely erase the glory of the Lord! This is an attempt to sever our roots!"

He turned abruptly, staring intently at the Cardinal, his voice hoarse and crazed. "We cannot wait any longer. That Eastern tyrant wants to rule the world using the methods of a Mortal, then we shall strike back using the power of God!"

"Your Majesty, do you mean..." The Cardinal's face turned pale instantly, as if he had thought of something extremely terrifying. "That legend... but that is a forbidden taboo!"

"What taboos are left now?"

Gregory XI sneered, his eyes flashing with a near-hysterical madness. "If we don't do this, we won't even make it to next spring before we freeze to death or get strung up on lampposts by those rioters who believe in the 'New Learning'!"

"Follow me."

...

Deep beneath Vatican City, at the end of a little-known secret passage.

This was a chamber that had been sealed for centuries, and the air was filled with the scent of decay and blood. The walls were covered in strange, twisted runes; they were not Latin, but rather resembled some kind of evil babble from the ancient past.

In the center of the chamber was a massive altar, covered in dark red, dried bloodstains.

Gregory XI brought a dozen trusted Cardinals here. Behind them were hundreds of "heretics" forcibly escorted in by guards—in reality, most were homeless vagrants or commoners who had stolen a loaf of bread.

"For the glory of the Lord, offer up your humble lives."

The Pope waved his hand expressionlessly.

"No! Spare us!"

"I am a devout believer! Why are you killing me!"

Piercing screams echoed through the chamber, but were quickly replaced by the sound of blades slicing through throats.

Blood, warm blood, flowed slowly along the grooves of the altar, eventually gathering at a skull totem in the center.

"With blood as the guide, with souls as the sacrifice."

Gregory XI knelt before the altar, hands raised high, chanting the incantation that had been sealed in the deepest part of the forbidden library. This was not a holy hymn to summon angels, but a dark contract to communicate with another dimension.

"Great being, please listen to the summons of your servant!"

"Descend! Cleanse this world of heretics! Grant us the power of vengeance!"

As the incantation was chanted, the temperature in the chamber plummeted, and even the flames of the torches turned a ghastly, sickly green.

"Hum—"

Space began to warp, and a nauseating, fishy stench seeped out from the Void Realm.

The air above the altar seemed to be torn apart by a pair of invisible hands, and a pitch-black rift slowly opened.

"Roar—!!!"

A roar that could not possibly come from human vocal organs emanated from the rift. Immediately after, a massive creature covered in compound eyes and tentacles slowly squeezed out.

It had no physical form, appearing more like a collection of energy composed of black mist and slime, but the terrifying aura it emitted caused all the Cardinals present to collapse to the ground in fear.

"An... Angel?" A Cardinal's teeth chattered; this was completely different from the holy, winged angels he had imagined.

"This is the Angel of Divine Punishment!"

Gregory XI shouted fanatically. Although he knew in his heart that this thing looked like a monster, in the face of despair, as long as it could kill, it was a good angel!

The mass of monsters hovered in the air, countless compound eyes darting around, finally locking onto the corpses on the altar.

"Slurp—"

Several tentacles reached out and instantly pierced the corpses. In the blink of an eye, the hundreds of bodies turned into mummified husks, all their flesh and essence devoured completely.

The monster seemed to burp with satisfaction; its originally vague body became slightly more solid, and it even manifested a pair of tattered, bat-like phantom wings on its back.

It turned its head to look at Gregory XI, transmitting a wave of greedy and chaotic mental fluctuations:

"Sacrifices... more... slaughter..."

Gregory XI was not frightened but delighted. He crawled forward on his knees and kissed the tip of the monster's dangling tentacle.

"Great Envoy of God! As long as you can help us destroy the Eastern army and drive away those heretics, the people of all Europa are yours to feast upon!"

The monster let out a piercing shriek, seemingly having reached some kind of agreement.

A wave of black energy erupted from its body, instantly sweeping over everyone present.

The Cardinals felt their brains go "hum," their original fear vanishing, replaced by a feeling of forcefully injected power, and... an infinite desire for slaughter.

Their eyes turned bloodshot, their muscles bulged, and their fingernails even grew longer.

"A miracle! I can feel the Divine Power!"

Gregory XI stood up, feeling the surging power within him, and a sinister smile appeared on his face.

"Ming Emperor... your doom has arrived."

"Pass the order! Summon all the Crusaders! Regardless of gender or age, arm everyone!"

"Tell them the Envoy of God has descended! As long as they kill the Ming people, they can ascend to Heaven!"

That night, the bells of Vatican City rang out, but they were no longer melodious; they were permeated with a chilling Death Qi.

A storm woven from despair, madness, and evil power from another dimension was about to sweep across the entire Western world.