Chapter 153 King's Game "Jiang Nuoer is not a bad child..."

Seventeen gilded carriages rolled through the gates of Vania, the dust kicked up by their wheels mingling with the banners bearing seven different coats of arms.

As the morning prayer bells rang, the gates of the main temple of the holy city slowly opened in the misty light, welcoming the young men and women from all over the world.

This marks the 372nd year of the Holy Light Church's rule over the continent, and also the 100th anniversary of the signing of the Covenant of Varian.

One hundred years ago, the "Moon Goddess," one of the seven major tribes of the Eastern Continent, rebelled.

The Fifth Pope led the Holy Knights in a bloody massacre of rebellious city-states under the pretext of "purification by holy light," ultimately forcing the nations to sign the Treaty of Varian.

Each country is required to send one of its royal children to the Holy City during each pope's term of office to receive instruction from the pope until they prove their pure bloodline and devout faith.

Now, under the reign of the Sixth Pope Sirius, the Holy City has welcomed hostages from the new Seventeen Kingdoms.

The carriage stopped in the square outside the main hall. Thorfinn, from the North, was the first to jump off, his barbarian scimitar striking the horse's back with a dull thud.

In this silent holy city, this is tantamount to an open provocation.

Princess Rafina from the South behind him immediately covered her nose: "A country bumpkin is a country bumpkin."

Rafina scoffed disdainfully, then used a handkerchief embroidered with gold thread to dust off the hem of her silk skirt, as if it had been stained.

"you!"

Thorfinn was easily angered and was about to have a good argument with this impolite little princess when a messenger appeared at the front of the carriage.

The hostages disembarked one after another, their expressions varied, but upon seeing the envoy, they all straightened their backs and dared not act rashly again. The Pope's impression of them was related to their countries, and they all understood the mission they had come for.

Only the youngest of the hostages.

Jiang Nuoer was dressed in an ill-fitting milky-white robe, with the collar hanging loosely. He almost tripped over the trailing robe when he got off the carriage. His timid and hesitant appearance was nothing like that of a prince from a noble family; he seemed more like someone deliberately sent to fill a quota.

Even the messenger couldn't help but glance at him a few more times, and then at the flag on the carriage, which was a "gift" from Ethergard.

The envoy snorted coldly at Jiang Nuoer, then turned and pointed ahead, flicking his sleeves, to show them the way, since Aethergard dared to be so perfunctory.

Jiang Nuoer followed the group with small, bewildered steps, and soon the group arrived at the bottom of the steps in front of the main hall.

The dozens of steps made the palace at the top seem even more imposing. Jiang Nuoer pouted slightly in protest, but still had no choice but to resign herself to her fate and carefully climb up, lifting her robe.

A boy wearing armor with a griffin emblem suddenly bumped into him; it was Raymond, the second son of the Duchy of the West.

Raymond deliberately stepped on Jiang Nuoer's robe, watching him stagger and almost fall, a cold smile curling at the corner of his mouth: "Can't Aethergard even afford to send a decent hostage? Or... is your royal bloodline inherently so lowly?"

Gleeful glances came from all around. The Western Frontier and Gard had been at odds for years, especially since Gard's eldest prince had recently seized several territories in the Western Frontier, further worsening the relationship between the two countries.

But Jiang Nuoer didn't understand any of this. He just lowered his head, clutching his robe, trying to pull the clothes out from under Raymond's boots.

"I wonder where this little bastard came from, thinking that receiving the Pope's instruction will turn him into a phoenix?"

"No...no..."

Raymond laughed wildly, his insults like sharp blades. Jiang Nuoer's trembling eyelashes welled up with tears as she helplessly and softly defended herself.

"I'm your younger brother... Yao's younger brother..."

Yao, the valiant and warlike eldest prince of Aethergard, was renowned for his conquests and expansion of territory.

Completely different from this timid and cowardly little prince.

“Your Highness Raymond,” a cool voice suddenly rang out, “the Pope is still waiting for us.”

Yue Liya stood beside Jiang Nuoer at some point. She was a descendant of the "Moon Goddess" from years ago. The Church gave the Moon Goddess a new opportunity, thus saving her entire race from extermination.

She wore a crescent-colored long dress, with a pearl hairpin in her hair. The seventeen-year-old girl had a calm look in her eyes and was the oldest among them.

Raymond snorted and followed the group, not even bothering the envoy. He wanted to see what kind of good end this surviving traitor's daughter would have with such lowly blood.

"Thanks..."

"My name is Yue Liya, what's your name?"

"Jiangnuoer..."

Her voice, still tinged with tears, sounded soft and sweet, reminding Yue Liya of her youngest sister.

Some people worship the Papacy as a god, while others see it as a den of demons.

Yue Liya's arrival here was not of her own choosing; she was the eldest child in her family, and if she hadn't come, it would have been the turn of her younger siblings to leave their homes.

Judging from Jiang Nuoer's appearance, she doesn't seem to realize what she's about to face.

If I remember correctly, in this life, the King and Queen of Germany are deeply in love, and they only have one prince, Yao. As for Jiang Nuoer...

“Aethergard is trying to fool the Pope with other bloodlines, but if he finds out, you will die.”

Yue Liya and Jiang Nuoer walked side by side upwards. Glancing at Jiang Nuoer's innocent expression out of the corner of her eye, she couldn't bear to remind her, "If someone tricked you into coming here, explain the situation to the Pope later, and he will let you go."

Xiao Jiangnuoer shook his head, his fluffy curly hair swaying with his movements.

He counted carefully on his fingers: "Yao is the older brother... Jiang Nuoer is the younger brother... Shuo Ri is the father god... Zhu Yue is the mother queen... I'm not kidding..."

...

"But you're too young."

“She’s not young anymore, Jiang Nuoer is ten years old.”

Ten years old... but looks no more than seven or eight, and may not even be mentally developed yet...

...

The dome of the main hall is so high that the patterns on it are not visible.

Twelve pillars of light, formed from the bone powder of believers mixed with holy light, descended from the dome, dividing the seventeen protons into a grid of alternating light and shadow.

The white jade bricks on the ground were so shiny they reflected their tense faces, like seventeen statues about to be sacrificed.

The voice of the silver-masked messenger echoed in the empty hall. He unfurled a scroll of gilded parchment: "To prove the purity of your faith, wear the necklace of holy light immediately."

Two priests in white robes pushed forward a silver cart, on which a golden collar, neatly placed, gleamed faintly.

"Your Highness Thorfinn of the North, step forward."

The messenger held up the parchment book and called out names. The priest picked up the collar with both hands, and tiny needles of light suddenly pierced the surface of the collar, binding Thorfinn's neck and leaving a light red mark. Thorfinn's muscles tensed, and he clenched his molars tightly, not daring to move.

"Next, Prince Raymond of the West, step forward."

...

"Next, Your Highness Asegardjanor, please step forward."

Jiang Nuoer puffed out her cheeks, lifted her robe, and walked forward from the very end of the line.

The edges of his robe still bore large shoe prints left by Raymond, which he had been secretly trying to remove for a long time without success.

He hates Raymond.

The boy's steps were small, or perhaps because he was too far from the Pope, so he walked for quite a while.

Jiang Nuoer didn't understand why the Pope was sitting alone in such a high place.

He couldn't help but look up, but saw nothing. The Pope was wearing a glass mask, looking mysterious.

whispering sound...

The priest's fingers gripped his chin like iron clamps, and the cold collar pressed against his skin with a click.

The collar tightened immediately, and the light needles pierced his flesh. He felt a sharp pain that made his vision go black. He instinctively tried to struggle, but another priest held his shoulders down firmly.

When his vision blurred, he glanced at the Pope again, and the obsidian embedded in the mask where the eyes were seemed to focus on him.

It was dark and gloomy, like a great demon king watching over a small ant, and he was that poor little ant.

it hurts...

Jiang Nuoer was still at an age where she couldn't hide her feelings; her lips pouted in grievance, and her eyes were red and watery.

The Pope tapped his scepter twice lightly.

Upon receiving the signal, the messenger turned around, bowed respectfully to the Pope, and then ruthlessly declared: "Prince Jiangnuoer is to be placed in confinement. The other princes will accompany me to the West Palace to be assigned accommodations."

!

Upon hearing the word "confinement," Jiang Nuoer's pupils contracted, and she froze in terror.

The crowd inside the hall surged outwards like a tide, their footsteps clattering against the stone bricks, but no one dared to turn back to look at him.

He remained alone in the empty hall, like a forgotten offering.

don't want...

Jiang Nuoer chased after the crowd, her plea cut short by the collar, and she tripped over her robe, falling heavily to the cold, hard ground.

But he paid no heed, frantically pulling at the collar, his fingernails peeling and bleeding, filled with fear of confinement.

Don't put me in solitary confinement...

He struggled to his feet and stumbled toward the palace gate, unaware that Sirius on the throne had already risen and was following behind him.

The palace gates closed, raising a fine cloud of dust.

Jiang Nuoer slumped to her knees by the door, her clothes slipping down to reveal her rounded shoulders, and one of her shoes had inadvertently slipped off, her slender, fair ankle faintly visible beneath her robes.

He stared at the last glimmer of light through the crack in the door, tears streaming down his face, sobbing as he curled up into an even smaller ball on the floor.

"I hate Sirius..."

Whom do you hate?

A deep voice rang out, and Jiang Nuoer replied without hesitation, "I hate Sirius! I hate him!"

The childish brat clenched his fists in protest, completely unaware that the person he hated reached behind his neck and loosened the collar around his neck.

"So who do you like?"

"I love my brother! I love Yao!"

"oh?"

"ah?"

Jiang Nuoer finally realized that someone was talking to him. He sat up, leaning on the door frame, and looked up at the person with his legs curled up in front of him, feeling guilty.

He was secretly speaking ill of the Pope in the Pope's palace, and he was worried that the person in front of him would report him.

From his angle, he could barely see the man's belt. After hesitating for a moment, he carefully tugged at the man's trouser leg.

"Are you here to take me to the solitary confinement cell...?"

"I don't hate the Pope...please don't tell him...okay..."

"Jiang Nuoer isn't a bad child..."