Chapter 482 - 103: Preaching
Murphy left the Holy Hall Pharmacy.
His figure transformed into a streak of dark gold light, arriving outside the side hall where Elizabeth handled official business.
No announcement was necessary. The heavy doors to the hall opened silently before him.
Inside the hall, Elizabeth sat behind a wide desk, reviewing a thick stack of documents.
Hearing the sound, she looked up. When she saw it was Murphy, a soft light immediately filled her eyes.
"My Lord?" she asked, setting down her quill and rising to her feet.
"Summon a council of the Cardinals," Murphy said, his voice calm but carrying an authority that could not be questioned. "Now. All of them."
Elizabeth didn’t hesitate in the slightest. She didn’t even ask why, simply nodding. "Yes, My Lord."
She immediately turned to the Secretary standing at attention nearby. "Relay my order: convene an emergency meeting of the Cardinals at once. All Cardinals in the Holy City are to be at the Cardinal Hall within half an hour."
"As you command, Holy Throne!" The Secretary bowed, accepted the order, and swiftly departed to relay it.
...
「Half an hour later, in the Cardinal Hall.」
High-backed chairs were lined up next to a long, heavy oak table.
One by one, eight figures filed into the solemn hall.
The first to arrive were three relatively young Cardinals. They were representatives of the new generation, having been promoted for their ability, contributions, or alignment with the new policies Elizabeth had instituted.
Dressed in the standard deep red robes of a Cardinal, they wore solemn expressions and exchanged cautious glances. They silently took their seats on one side of the long table, their backs ramrod straight, their gazes fixed forward.
Five older men entered next.
Leading them was none other than Adrian. The monocle perched on his nose reflected the light from the crystal chandelier, obscuring his eyes.
Half a step behind him was Ambrosius. The other three were also familiar faces—Old Faction Cardinals who had weathered the politics of the Church Court for decades. Although the tide of new policies had diminished their influence, their lingering authority remained.
These five Old Faction Cardinals took their seats on the opposite side of the long table, their movements slow and deliberate.
However, after everyone was seated, the Pope’s chair remained conspicuously empty.
And Holy Sword Murphy, who should have been accompanying the Pope, was also nowhere in sight.
The grandfather clock in the corner ticked with crisp regularity, marking the passing of every second.
The very air seemed to congeal.
The three new-generation Cardinals maintained their upright posture, their gazes fixed downward and their breathing deliberately shallow. They refused to glance at the empty seat at the head of the table, much less make eye contact with any of their senior colleagues across from them.
They kept all their emotions and thoughts tightly contained beneath a calm facade.
Across from them, Adrian removed his monocle and began methodically polishing it with a silk handkerchief. He then replaced it and turned his gaze to the intricate religious frescoes on the ceiling, as if admiring the art.
Ambrosius’s eyelids were slightly lowered, his gaunt fingers tracing seemingly random patterns on the smooth tabletop as if studying the wood grain.
As for the other three Old Faction Cardinals, one picked up his cup of tea—long since prepared and now lukewarm—and took a small sip, apparently unconcerned by the temperature.
Another produced a small book of scripture from his robes and began to murmur prayers, as if using the opportunity for his daily devotions.
The last simply closed his eyes, as if resting.
No one spoke up to ask.
No one showed any obvious impatience.
The only sounds in the entire Cardinal Hall were the ticking of the clock, the occasional soft rustle of a page being turned, and the nearly inaudible sound of breathing.
The eyes of the Old Faction Cardinals might have concealed deep-seated impatience, doubt, or even a hint of displeasure at being made to wait.
But their faces remained impassive, showing the calm of men who had weathered countless storms.
The young, New Faction Cardinals might have been filled with confusion, tension, and speculation about what was to come, but all they displayed was absolute obedience and patience.
The minutes ticked by, one by one.
The light outside the windows shifted, and the hall gradually grew dim.
At last, the heavy, carved wooden doors of the hall swung open.
Murphy entered first, his stride steady and his expression neutral.
Elizabeth followed half a step behind him, dressed in the moon-white standard robes of the Pope and wearing a delicate Silver Crown. Her expression was equally calm.
The pair walked straight to the head of the long table.
Elizabeth took her seat in the Pope’s chair, and Murphy sat in the seat beside her.
"Sorry to keep you all waiting." Murphy’s gaze swept across the eight Cardinals on both sides of the table. His voice was level, shattering the prolonged, dead silence of the hall.
"Not at all, Your Excellency, you’re too kind," Adrian replied almost instantly, a perfectly measured, respectful smile on his face. "You and the Holy Throne attend to countless matters of great importance. You must have been handling something urgent. It is our duty to wait."
"Indeed," Ambrosius added with a slight bow, his voice steady and deferential. "To be summoned so urgently by the Holy Throne and Your Excellency must mean there are vital matters to discuss. It is only right that we should wait."
"We wouldn’t dream of considering it a long wait, Your Excellency," one of the New Faction Cardinals hurriedly added.
"Waiting is nothing if it means we can help alleviate the burdens of the Holy Throne and Your Excellency," another Old Faction Cardinal chimed in.
For a moment, the table was filled with a chorus of humble, understanding, and uncomplaining agreement, as if that long, tedious wait had been a tremendous honor.
However, Murphy’s expression suddenly darkened.
His gaze flashed like lightning across every Cardinal who had spoken, and his voice turned abruptly cold. "So, this is how you speak!"