Chapter 125 Chapter 125 Now let’s talk about ‘all victories’…
A peregrine falcon with a gray beak and a white neck flew over Ferdinand II. Its shadow briefly fell across the carved white railing next to the king's hand.
The king looked up and said, "Shoot the eagle."
"Shoot that hawk!" the guards shouted. The snipers on the rooftops, noticing his gesture, raised their rifles. A volley of bullets narrowly missed the peregrine falcon's wings; it plowed through the air, soaring upwards, over the rooftop where the snipers were stationed. Behind it, the snipers, slain by the assassins, fell to the ground.
It continued to fly upwards, passing the bustling crowd of onlookers, passing the red-clad gendarmes maintaining order, and passing the gallows that was the focus of everyone's attention; higher up, the bell of the Church of Our Lady tolled for Ferdinand II.
"Dong!" The huge bell shook slowly.
"Boom!" The frightened peregrine falcon suddenly took off into the air, and its wings swept over the cross on the steeple with a whirring sound.
"Bang!"
The white-robed assassin jumped down.
Luigi, shoved against the trapdoor, watched this unfold. The assassin, already braced for sacrifice, suddenly widened his eyes as he saw the assassin emerge from the straw, brush off his white robe, and blend seamlessly into the crowd of spectators. Their clothes, washed three times over and three times, had long since faded. With his head lowered, the hooded assassin blended effortlessly into the crowd, heading straight for the execution platform like a shark's dorsal fin emerging from the waves.
"Bang!"
The executioner's glove tightened around Luigi's neck. A night before, Luigi would have thought he was doomed. But now, his eyes lit up, his heart pounding against his chest.
"Bang!"
The assassin pushed through the crowd blocking his way. The red-clad gendarmes finally noticed his approach, but it was too late; just as they reached out to push the restless man back into the crowd, the assassin had already completely emerged from the crowd, his hidden blade drawn!
The sharp sound of unsheathed metal was wrapped in the heavy tinkling of bells. Two gendarmes fell to the ground. The executioner was grasping the lever, trying to open the trapdoor beneath Luigi's feet. The gendarmes on either side finally noticed the sharp knife emerging from the crowd and gathered around with their bayonets raised. Seeing Luigi's life hanging by a thread, the layers of bayonets flashed with the cold light of dawn, closing in on the lone assassin.
But Elio was faster than any of them.
In just a few short steps, the assassin leaped onto the steps, stepped onto the blade array, and leaped into the air! The gleaming blade array trembled beneath him like beautiful, hard white feathers; the assassin's white robe soared in the air like the tail of a falcon. Amidst the heavy ringing of bells, the uproar of the crowd, and the scolding of the gendarmes, Luigi, witnessing this scene, was practically stunned and gaped in surprise: he had just learned that the assassins had come to rescue him, but at this moment, he discovered that it was the Mentor himself who came to save him!
The flying knife shot out from Elio's arms.
The rope around Luigi's head snapped, and he fell through the trapdoor that the executioner had just opened, nearly falling to the ground. The assassin, kicking up a cloud of dust, quickly climbed to his feet, rubbing his neck with lingering fear, then frantically untied the noose; he expected the gendarmes to follow him.
But they didn't. Even after the assassins who had been waiting on both sides grabbed him and ran away, no military police had time to free up their time to chase Luigi.
"Catch the assassin!" ordered Ferdinand II.
The guards shouted, "Catch the assassin!"
The bells continued to ring. On the scaffold, Elio drew his sword and, with a single, flowing stroke, struck down the "feathers" charging toward him. The golden light shone, dazzling the red-clad gendarmes, who were unable to resist. Had they known Elio was skillfully incorporating lightning strikes into his attacks, they might have found a reason to confront their cruel king.
If they still have a chance to find an excuse.
But now, Ferdinand II, standing up from the balcony—he tightly grasped the carved railing, staring at the assassin who calmly walked down from the execution platform—probably would not let anyone go. He saw from afar that the damned assassin actually sheathed his sword and pushed away the gendarmes who blocked his way with his hands. And they actually dodged and even dropped their guns and knives powerlessly, as if they were unable to move at all!
That was his army of thousands, but they were completely defeated by that little white invasion!
The crowd roared. Compared to the noise they made while waiting for the execution, the noise they made now was truly boiling and boiling; the bells still rang without fail, and only then did Ferdinand II realize what he had never really wanted to "realize" before, that is, the bells were ringing for him.
The death knell tolls for his dynasty.
From afar, a glance seemed to pierce the air beneath the eagle-brimmed hood. Like an arrow piercing the sky, Ferdinand II stumbled back. "Guards!" he cried. Layers of guards had already surrounded him, but even as they did so—they prioritized protecting the king from the lone assassin—the white-robed assassin had already stepped down from the scaffold and rejoined the crowd.
Like a drop of water in the scorching sun, Elio evaporated into thin air.
The print media was immediately in an uproar.
Headlines like "The 'Cannonball King' Suffers a Series of Attacks" and "For Whom the Bell Tolls" immediately spread everywhere and reached the hands of those who loved to mock Ferdinand II (of course, there were many of them); reports like "Swiss Guard 'Assassin' Rescued" and "Milano Survives the Gallows" also immediately made those who cared about the matter excited...
But more attention is paid to the miracle on December 12th, when the white-robed assassin rescued "Milano" from the gallows.
"'The white robes are shunned by the host,'" Giotto read from the newspaper in his hand. "Listen, Elio! They're practically treating you like a god!"
The assassin who had been called did not stir at all, lying peacefully on the sofa. His face was covered with newspaper, as if he had not heard anything. But when Giotto tried to pull the newspaper away, Elio quickly grabbed it and started to pull it with Giotto, his face flushed.
Giotto, after all, had no intention of pulling the newspaper away (he already had one in his hand), and soon withdrew his hand with a laugh. Elio could no longer pretend and had to sit up, but he still covered his face with his hands and remained silent.
"I wish I could be there," Giotto said, gathering up his newspaper and mercifully sparing his visibly embarrassed friend, "to see the face of Ferdinand II with my own eyes!"
"I wish we'd never see that face again," Elio put down his hand, his face still a little red. "It's a pity there were so many royal guards surrounding him at the time."
"Don't rush, Elio! You've already dealt him a heavy blow," Giotto said. "After this, I'm afraid his supporters will never again be able to confidently claim that his 'kingship' is a gift from God."
Elio smiled. By then, the red had faded from his face. The newspaper slid to his knees. Of all the speculations about the "White Assassin," at least one was correct: he was handsome and in the prime of his life. Though he was already past thirty, he only had a few cute laugh lines around his eyes. Even if he was in his early twenties, I'm afraid some people would still believe him.
"Soon, all of Europe will stop spouting nonsense about 'the divine right of kings,'" the seemingly young Assassin Mentor said confidently. "Italy is ready."
Giotto stared at him intently. Sunlight streamed in from the window behind him, illuminating the golden dust in the air. Through all this, the gazes of the Sicilian Assassin Mentor and the Vongola leader met in mid-air, practically sparking.
But then, Giotto suddenly burst into laughter.
"You know, Elio," Giotto said regretfully in the assassin's puzzled eyes, "if you couldn't bear this, I really could not help but kiss your face just now!"
"…I'm so glad you held back."
But Giotto shook his head. He raised an eyebrow, pointed the pen he held casually in his hand in Elio's direction, and said jokingly, "When everything is won, you must never refuse me again!"
"It's too early to talk about 'all victories' now, Giotto." Elio crossed his legs. "Especially about our 'Cannonball King'. I haven't told you yet."
Giotto immediately became serious, "What do you mean?"
It was Luigi who told Elio this. Elio had originally intended to let him have a good rest, but Luigi insisted on seeing his mentor immediately, which puzzled Elio, who had just come down from the execution platform. However, when Luigi told him what obstacles had prevented the failed assassination, Elio immediately understood.
He understood why all the assassins had failed.
"He was wearing a suit of… well, Giotto, Ferdinand II had a suit of armor made by the Mayans," Elio said. "It was invulnerable to swords and bullets. I'm afraid that's why no assassination attempt on him has been successful."
Giotto looked at Elio carefully. "Are you telling the truth?"
"That's absolutely true," Elio said. "But don't worry too much, Giotto. We will find a way to kill him."
As he said this, Elio gently turned the ring on his finger. This seemed to have become a small habit of his recently.
"Well," said Giotto, "then I'm afraid we'll have to ask Daemon to find a time when the king can be naked."
As for Spedo, who was lurking in the Bourbon army and always pretending to be loyal to the king, Elio didn't know what he felt when he heard Giotto's order. All he knew was that in 1859, Spedo finally found such an opportunity for him.
Caserta, Royal Palace.
The king, long ill, remained as stubborn as he had been in his youth. He refused to be examined by foreign doctors, and would only see his own physician, who had worked for him for many years. Elio and Spedo had to work hard to gain the brief moment the king had to wait for the doctor to enter.
"If you fail again this time," Spedo whispered through gritted teeth, "we'll really be finished!"
Elio said nothing more. He simply nodded to Spedo. Then, the legendary assassin mentor sneaked into the king's chambers.
-----------------------
The author has something to say: If you are interested, you can watch the trailers for Assassin's Creed 1 and Brotherhood. They are available on Bilibili. They are so cool... Anyway, because they are so cool, there is some artistic processing here. I admit my mistake first (sliding kneel.jpg). It can be understood that Oreo quickly escaped from the battle by electrocuting the weapons in their hands/numbing them with electricity.
And that "Maya armor" is the one Edward Kenway wears in Black Flag.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
