"In the first half of his life, he was like a tyrant, yet in the latter half, he was revered as a saint."

Shermans nodded, finding Salicardo's words apt to describe Cardinal Medici, "Like a blood-stained marauder, his actions in old age might have been acts of atonement."

"After the Night of the Holy Arrival, we needed a new leader. Two people were considered by everyone: the newly rising Miguel and the aging Cardinal Medici. In fact, everyone leaned towards Cardinal Medici, hoping this old lion could turn the tides and lead us back to that golden era,

but at that time, we discovered that Cardinal Medici was already dead. He died on the Night of the Holy Arrival, silently."

Shermans spoke slowly.

"No one really noticed these things. In his later years, he was withdrawn, dismissing all his servants and barely socialized, served only by a priest who also died."

"We examined the rotting corpse and speculated that Cardinal Medici died on the Night of the Holy Arrival. The turmoil of that night wasn't limited to Saint Nalos Cathedral."

"This...this wasn't the death he deserved."

Salicardo lamented, that such a prominent figure ended up dying so quietly, in a secluded place, his decaying body only discovered when someone finally went looking for him.

"We didn't have time to investigate the cause of his death further. With no competition left, Cardinal Miguel was almost set to become the new Pope, but then Sainy Loter appeared."

Shermans' voice trembled slightly. It was Sainy Loter who pushed them to this dire situation.

"Was he the final victor?" Salicardo remembered the name, the now Pope's name.

"Sainy Loter, he suddenly appeared, holding a letter of appointment left by the former Pope... It was actually useless; every Pope is elected by the Cardinals, but with his appearance, everything seemed to change as if premeditated. Cardinals who originally stood with us suddenly turned to him.

The entire state of affairs became chaotic. His votes were tied with Miguel's. We urgently investigated his background, but the result was strange."

Shermans' eyes were filled with an unspeakable confusion, even today he couldn't understand these events.

"Sainy Loter appeared out of nowhere, and none of us knew there was such a person around the old Pope. Even the priests who survived the Night of the Holy Arrival hadn't seen him, yet the materials he provided clearly documented his entire life... like... like some Divine Power orchestrated all this, suddenly inserting a non-existent man into the world and paving everything for him."

He couldn't understand, and neither could Cardinal Miguel. It was as if everything was predetermined.

"And then came the things I told you about, Sainy Loter's votes increased steadily. We didn't want to lose just like that. To bring back the glory of the Evangelical Church, we even decided to resort to those filthy means."

Shermans paused, then continued after taking a deep breath.

"About Anthony, Anthony was ours, he was our hidden piece placed within the Holy Hall Knight Order. Initially, we planned to use him to kill Sainy Loter. Everything seemed to go smoothly, and he didn't reveal even a hint of betrayal until the mission began."

"We thought that night would be our beginning, but who would have thought it to be the end. The Holy Hall Knight Order had our list of names. They were supposed to attack Saint Nalos Cathedral but appeared before us instead. We were completely unprepared, blood flooded the place."

It was a nightmare of a night.

"We nearly faced total annihilation, only a few managed to escape Seven Hills overnight, and after that, Sainy Loter directly ascended to Pope, and all other Cardinals obeyed him."

This was the cause and effect of this group of exiles. Salicardo was one of their sponsors, attempting to counterattack against the new Pope.

"Anthony is a sly one. Though he looks cold and rigid, he's adept at scheming. If the new Pope sent him, he definitely harbors no good intentions."

Salicardo nodded, remaining silent, lost in thought for a long time before finally speaking slowly.

"Is there more? Any other secrets related to you?"

In his recurring nightmares, Salicardo repeatedly dreamed of those terrifying events, but while others might fear, this business giant found new longing in the constant terror, a mystery seemed to pull him, constantly tugging at him.

Shermans shook his head, refusing.

"Secrets are also a kind of asset; you already know enough."

"So I need a better offer to learn more, right?" Salicardo, smiling, keenly sensed something.

"Name your price, Cardinal Shermans. Surely, this is what Miguel wants you to do, right? Besides the knowledge in your minds, you have nothing. You need money, manpower, you need so many things. After all, slogans alone won't reclaim the Seven Hills."

Salicardo's gaze was like that of a jackal. He accepted and financed them not out of kindness but for the secrets, and once he fully mined those secrets, the exiles would lose their usefulness. Shermans knew this but was powerless.

These exiles had been pushed to the edge by the ruthless new Pope; otherwise, these noble figures wouldn't bow down to Salicardo.

"Some secrets are forbidden, not for me alone to decide." Shermans said. Compared to Salicardo's might, he was like a dying tree.

"I'm actually tired."

Shermans sighed, glancing at his robe, vivid as blood.

"I wanted to withdraw right after the Night of the Holy Arrival. I wasn't interested in power struggles then, and back then, I could understand why Cardinal Medici chose to let go of power."

"What about now? If that's how you say you felt, shouldn't you submit to the new Pope?"

Salicardo looked at the troubled Shermans. The guy was indeed very old, his skin wrinkling like an ancient tree.

"No, that's the bottom line. I can accept all this, but I can't accept that new Pope," Shermans replied. "I'm a Cardinal, no matter how you judge the Evangelical Church's rights or wrongs, I remain a part of it, unlike that new Pope."

Shermans opened his mouth as if to say something, but hesitated and swallowed back those words, refusing to disclose that crucial secret.

"At the very least, I want to die with dignity, not live on with someone's pity."

He spoke again, his voice carrying the fatigue of a foreigner.

Salicardo looked at him, and Shermans gazed towards the end of the night, in the direction of the Seven Hills, for an instant, it seemed he could see through all of the old man's life.

"You are different from Miguel, that guy just wants to be Pope, but you just want to die, right?" Salicardo said.

"Every Cardinal should be buried in the Seven Hills, united with the other divines, not die in a foreign land."

Shermans said stubbornly, but this seemingly laughable stubbornness was this old man's last stand.

"I am different from them. I still believe in that ancient divinity and am willing to dedicate my life to defend it. My alignment with Miguel is nothing more than a seemingly shared stance."

"I don't care who the Pope is, I only hope that the divinity I believe in doesn't become corrupted."

Shermans held steadfast faith; even descended to such a state, he refused to shed his red robe, representing his faith, not power and status.

"Then why can't the Pope be Sainy Loter?" Salicardo asked.

"Because he is a heretic."

Shermans answered with anger, like the clang of iron.

"Sainy Loter is a heretic!"

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