Shermans spoke without any pretense, too lazy to bother with excuses or lies.
"We do plan to do this, but as it's written above, we're still too naive. A bunch of old guys who only know how to pray in the church can't adapt to this vicious outside world."
"Indeed, you're in no position to join this struggle for the 'Revelation,'" Galahad said.
The Exiles have no military power to speak of. Perhaps they have vast wealth, but in the face of steel and cannons, that wealth can offer no protection, let alone oppose the Purification chanism and the new Pope.
"This is also Miguel's intention. Rather than continue consuming our already ager strength, it's better to directly cooperate with you."
"The 'Revelation' won't be shared with you," Galahad stated bluntly.
"That sort of thing doesn't matter anymore. Maybe in your hands, you'll do better with it than we could. Ingwig is the best example, isn't it? Faith is already a thing of the past; you are the masters of the new era," Shermans said calmly, with a calmness that was frightening.
Even the imposing Galahad was dumbfounded, unsure whether these were allies or enemies.
"Don't be surprised, child. I'm different from them. If I must be categorized into a faction, I might be considered part of the Faith Faction. But rather than care about the fate of Demons, I care more about my God, about when that false Pope will be hanged."
Wrapped in aged skin and elderly bones, Shermans' eye sockets were deeply recessed, like deep caves.
"Your Purification chanism knows our intentions, right? In fact, compared to that new Pope, we are more worthy of collaboration. Without the 'Revelation,' all that new Pope can trade are those dirty secrets, isn't that so?"
Every word Shermans spoke was the truth, but it was this very sincere truth that tempted Galahad like a spell.
"We know more than that new Pope. He is rely a false claimant to the throne, while we are the true Cardinals who have witnessed the developnt of the Evangelical Church."
He pointed to his own head, within that old, decaying flesh, containing the knowledge everyone covets.
"Just a small price, Galahad."
Galahad restrained his eager heart, forcing himself to calm down.
"This requires Arthur to make a decision."
"It's okay, I've waited a long ti. Waiting a bit more isn't an issue. If your Purification chanism wants to make deals with both the Evangelical Church and us Exiles at the sa ti, that's fine too."
Though without much desire to compete, Shermans saw through everything clearly.
"We are just a bunch of Exiles struggling to survive, not your adversaries. The newly reford Order's Pope is your true enemy. No matter how it ends, that false claimant will suffer, and that's enough."
"So simple?"
"What else? The mont we got in touch with you, didn't we already put our entire lives in your hands? Isn't that worth trusting?"
Here in Old Dunling, when Shermans exposed himself to the Purification chanism, his life was already in their hands.
Galahad took a deep breath and, after a long silence, took out a file folder and handed it over, then said.
"Those matters, you should discuss with Arthur in person. This ti, I'm mainly here for this."
"What is this?"
"Information given to us by the Mission, or rather, the intelligence from the new Pope. We're not clear about the veracity of this information and need you to confirm it again."
The Exiles and the new Pope are absolute enemies, so much so that they are willing to cooperate with the Purification chanism to kill the new Pope. Galahad believes Shermans wouldn't deceive him.
"Is that so?"
Shermans said as he opened the file folder and poured out several black-and-white photos.
They seed to be taken secretly, and although the angles were strange, you could still discern a man's face among them; he was smoking a cigarette, wandering through every corner of Old Dunling.
Galahad inhaled sharply before exhaling with difficulty and asked,
"Who is he?"
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