"You mean, we're supposed to storm the Great Cathedral and, in front of tens of thousands of lunatic cultists, rescue a bunch of kids who can't even lift a dagger?!" Aldenan couldn't believe his ears and yelled at Randall, "That's suicide!"

Bulville exhaled a puff of white breath from the bull's nose and roared at Aldenan, "How dare you question the Dragon God's decision?!"

Aldenan brandished his wolf claws and shouted, "Then tell me, how exactly do we complete this suicidal mission?!"

“Shut up!” Carroll squatted down next to Randall, pointing to a simple drawing Pedro had made on the ground with a twig, and said, “Come and listen!”

Pedro pointed to an entrance on the 'map' and said, "This is the prison we're in. Because it's in a remote location and sparsely populated, very few people come here. And we didn't let a single person escape during our attack. So, for a while, I don't think anyone will notice us."

Randall said, "But the prison break will be exposed sooner or later."

“That’s right.” Pedro nodded. “The next changing of the guard is at dawn. If all goes well, we should have less than two hours.”

Carroll frowned and asked, "Two hours? How could so many children be moved in such a short time?"

Pedro moved the branch toward a building on the 'map': "This is the Great Cathedral, this is the Sacred Gallery, and less than two hundred meters to the south is the Confessional, where clergy confess to God. If we take the child away so openly, the guards will definitely find out."

Pedro stopped Aldenan's question with a gesture and suddenly asked, "I'm not sure if you're familiar with the history of the Church?"

“Father, now is not a good time for a history lesson,” Randall said with a wry smile. “It’s almost dawn.”

Pedro waved his hand with a smile: "Patience, patience. There's a famous scandal in church history—prostitutes held power, from the Pope down to the deacons, all keeping mistresses in Tello. Just think, in such a heavily guarded religious place, how did those prostitutes manage to sneak in and have secret rendezvous with clergy?"

Randall's eyes lit up: "You mean?"

“That’s right, it’s the confessional. It has many rooms, good soundproofing, and no one will disturb you. It’s the best place for rendezvous.” Pedro nodded and said, “Bishop Abel once told me that there is a passage leading to the city from there.”

Karin said, "In that case, what are we waiting for? Let's set off now."

Kellogg asked, "There's another question: how do we get close to that confessional?"

Pedro said, "As I said before, today is a pilgrimage, and everyone will be gathered in the Great Cathedral. There shouldn't be too many guards in the Confessional."

Randall finished tidying up his equipment and nodded: "As long as we rescue those children, we can hide them in the safe houses in the city and wait for Lord Cumberland to break through the city, then everyone will be safe."

Watching everyone leave one by one, Aldenan suddenly grabbed Carol and whispered, "Brother, have you ever thought about why the church would imprison those underage children in the penitentiary?"

Carroll was taken aback at first, then his eyes widened, veins bulging on his forehead, and he shoved Aldenan aside, roaring, "Shut up!"

Aldenan shrugged and said nothing more.

The Great Cathedral of Thales, the ceremonial preparation room.

Throat Bone sat in the chair, propped his feet up on the baptismal table, and looked at everything in front of him with amusement.

Seven or eight deacon assistants were surrounding Bishop Jacob, dressing him in the papal sash and robes.

With his head tilted to the side, Gougu said to Mylis, "This scene reminds me of monkeys in a circus."

The old man lowered his eyelids: "A monkey?"

"When the monkey was performing on stage for the first time and saw people putting the most gorgeous clothes on it, the monkey's eyes were filled with excitement and joy."

"As the monkey performed on stage more and more often, the joy it once felt in the face of the gorgeous costume was gone, replaced by endless fear and disgust."

Throat Bone tapped the armrest of the chair lightly with his fingers: "However, unlike the monkey, our new Pope will never have a second chance to take the stage."

Myris turned his gaze to the Holy Cross in the room, without saying a word.

The throat bone turned its head and asked Myris, "I remember you used to be a devout believer."

Mylis did not speak.

“No wonder. After seeing so many secrets of the church, even the most devout believers will doubt their faith.” Throat Bone counted on his fingers as he spoke: “The Inquisition, the torture chamber, the redemption book… and that penitential. God saw his servants commit such evil acts, yet remained unmoved. Either God himself is an evil being, or he never existed at all.”

Myris opened his mouth, his voice hoarse: "My denial of the church does not mean I deny God."

The throat bone smiled: "The end for mystics is endless nothingness."

Mylis paused, then said, "If I remember correctly, Saladin said that."

The smile on his throat bone slowly faded: "He is one of the few people wise enough to see through this world."

Mylis looked at the expression on the throat bone's face and asked curiously, "You want to save him?"

“Yes.” The throat bone nodded slightly: “But first, he must face death.”

“Mr. Cartier, what do you think of my outfit?” Bishop Jacob, wearing the papal robes, excitedly spun around and asked the throat bone for his opinion.

"Fantastic! Both in appearance and demeanor, Lord Jacob, the way you suit this outfit is undeniably perfect!"

While clapping his hands, Throat Bone laughed and said, "The position of Pope was prepared for you by God."

Jacob's face was flushed, and he swayed from side to side as if he were drunk.

Just then, a muffled explosion came from afar, startling him from his ecstasy.

Throat Bone glanced out the window: "It looks like the enemy's offensive is very fierce."

Throat Bone turned to look at Jacob: "I wonder if the garrison can hold out?"

Jacob shook his head, his face pale: "Even that old fellow Brom, with tens of thousands of troops, couldn't stop the enemy's advance. What can those few defenders on the city walls do?"

The man with the throat bowed his head in a pretentious manner: "Your Holiness, you are absolutely right."

Jacob paced back and forth, hesitating, and said, "But, do we really have to use that?"

The man with the throat bone smiled slightly: "Any other methods?"

Jacob frowned.

The man with the throat bone said softly, "My lord, do you wish to become the pope with the shortest reign in history?"

Jacob pursed his lips and gripped the Pope's holy order tightly with both hands.