"Lorenzo... Lorenzo de’ dici. I do not partake in disputes within the Church, but I know a bit here and there. So say that even in his seclusion, Lorenzo de’ dici continues to interfere with the Evangelical Church, albeit in secret."
Shermans spoke suddenly, staring fixedly at Lorenzo, his eyes seeming to be frozen.
"You saw it just now, that power nad Yanar, and such a power originates from ’Revelation’. During the Golden Era, Lorenzo de’ dici held almost everything in his grasp. Even Dean Lawrence was his puppet. Do you think he could possibly be unaware of ’Revelation’?"
The cold rain choked him; he coughed painfully, his breath faltering.
"Let’s talk after we leave this place."
"Silence! Let finish!"
Shermans burst into outrage but weakened imdiately, muttering continuously.
"He must have read ’Revelation’, that book of miracles, of forbidden knowledge, from which erged Demon Hunters as powerful as you, not to ntion discovering a way to ’immortality’."
Lorenzo was about to pull his steed, but upon hearing this, his hand paused unconsciously.
"There are nurous speculations within the Evangelical Church regarding the latter years of Lorenzo de’ dici, the most credible being his struggle against Dean Lawrence... or rather, against everyone in the Evangelical Church.
Lawrence was under the control of Lorenzo de’ dici, but as Lorenzo de’ dici aged, his grip on the Evangelical Church gradually weakened, until he could no longer hold power. Lorenzo de’ dici departed thus, yet he was unwilling and sought a way to immortality.
Led by Lawrence, those people naturally did not wish to see his resurgence, no matter how minuscule the possibility, so they covertly attacked one another."
Shermans took several gasping breaths, as if he would faint in the next second.
"But an aging lion is still a lion; no one dared to truly anger him, maintaining this long deadlock until soone suspected Lorenzo de’ dici had found a way to immortality and began advancing his plan."
"What plan?" Lorenzo asked anxiously.
"I don’t know; I don’t even know if it indeed exists or if it succeeded... Who knows? That great fire on the Night of the Holy Arrival destroyed everything; even Lorenzo de’ dici perished that night. It’s a mystery now."
Lorenzo was on the cusp of touching the truth, but stuck at the edge, unable to delve further.
"Co! Get up!"
There is no ti to contemplate these; Lorenzo didn’t know how long Yage could hold on, so he supported Shermans, helping him onto the steed.
Lorenzo then mounted the horse himself, signaling Shermans, yet Shermans hesitated to ride, rely drooping his head, seemingly lifeless.
"The Evangelical Church, the Evangelical Church has too many forbidden secrets, Lorenzo. From the mont history began to turn, it had appeared upon the world, battling demons throughout these millennia."
"But where did the Evangelical Church begin? Like what’s recorded in the ’Gospel’? A group of fearless people went north to the Ice Sea and brought back knowledge that changed the world... But where did this knowledge co from? Tracing its origins, it should have a starting point!"
"Shouldn’t this be your question?"
Lorenzo shouted, angrily whipping Shermans’ horse to make it run.
Two lonely figures galloped across the erald fields under the rain, cold raindrops tap-tapping on Shermans’ face. He was terribly exhausted, yet forcefully stayed awake, refusing to close his eyes.
"Lorenzo Hols!"
He shouted loudly, his withered hand clenching the reins.
"What the hell are you trying to do!"
Lorenzo shouted angrily; they had succeeded. If they just kept running, they could escape the Demon Hunters’ pursuit, but Shermans then slowly grinned, leisurely asking.
"Got any smoke?"
Lorenzo was stunned, feeling sothing oddly familiar, yet indescribable.
The old man was drenched by the rain, yet still smiled at himself.
"I rember you said that tobacco is a desire and believers should curb their craving for such things." Lorenzo had heard his sermons.
"About to die anyway. I was devout all my life; God wouldn’t mind these."
Lorenzo fell silent, he took out a cigarette and lit it for Shermans, but the rain was too heavy, the wind too strong, the fire flickered several tis before barely burning.
Shermans raised his hand, shielding the cigarette to prevent the rain from extinguishing it. He puffed on it awkwardly, inhaling forcefully and coughing painfully, issuing low painful moans.
"Don’t you smoke?"
"First ti ever! But this thing feels bad to inhale. Yet why do you people like it so much?"
Shermans asked, biting the cigarette, feeling the spicy taste in his throat, sowhat puzzled.
"Would be better if there’s alcohol."
He continued saying, having lived piously all his life, yet at this final mont indulged wickedly.
"Shermans..." Lorenzo whispered his na.
"Glad, at life’s end, it was you I t, Lorenzo Hols, not so Miguel, or Sainy Loter."
Shermans said, then gave Lorenzo a strong smile, a truly terrible-looking grin.
"Shermans, we still have a chance to escape..."
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