“Toler, give this to that person.”
“Yes, sir.”
Toler took the pill without saying a word.
He stepped over the bridge of villagers who were still lying on the ground, their backs against their shields.
He reached the wooden plank, stretched out his hand, grabbed the boy's mouth, and put the pill in.
Then he immediately knew to hide himself.
He didn't strive for even a glimmer of Ning Cuo's glory, but faithfully served as a foil to his lord's brilliance.
And Ning Cuo, like a mystic, kept making the sign of the cross on his chest.
He muttered:
“Merciful God, I bring hope to the world in your name, may you have mercy, may you show your glory.”
Jeanne d'Arc, who was closest, could hear this naturally.
She tilted her head in confusion, looking at Ning Cuo, who was still chanting with his eyes closed.
She immediately judged that the previous religious people were not skilled enough.
They didn't have access to such high-level theological knowledge.
Only Ning Cuo and Toler knew in their hearts.
Where did he learn theology? He hadn't even read the Bible.
It was all a bluff.
He was simply putting a holy cloak over his treatment.
The pill came from the omnipotent store, a simple exchange.
If it wasn't for the sake of winning over Jeanne d'Arc's heart,
Ning Cuo would never have used such precious points to exchange for such an expensive medicine.
As Ning Cuo continued to pray, the scene, which had been noisy, seemed to become holy as well.
The village headman, Maguire, stretched his neck, hope glimmering in his eyes again.
He had thought that the lord was just making an example of the boy.
Although he felt a thousand regrets in his heart, for the sake of the village, he could only sacrifice his own child and let Ning Cuo do as he pleased.
If he could survive, it would be good fortune; if he didn't, he could only blame himself for being useless.
Maguire might even have to stand there, shedding tears of gratitude.
On the other hand, Okay, who had just been woken up, looked at the scene with a look of terror on his face.
That's right, Ning Cuo was on the side of the church.
The pope's power was so great now, in large part because the missionaries under him were all-rounders.
They all knew a bit of everything, and they wore a religious cloak.
For ordinary minor illnesses, they had a set of standard solutions.
Could it be that he could really cure it?
This was a terminal illness!
Okay's eyes trembled as he watched Ning Cuo, who was still chanting something.
He was already thinking about how to escape.
“In the name of God, I pronounce that you shall be reborn.”
Estimating that the medicine's effects should have taken hold, Ning Cuo opened his eyes.
In the sunlight, he looked otherworldly.
“Lord, your lamb also looks forward to your divine power.”
Even though Jeanne d'Arc's voice was weak, and even though she had never heard such words, she learned from the words muttered by the occasional missionaries who came here.
She hoped that her future would help this lord, and that God's gaze would be more focused on this place.
“Sir, the demon has been eliminated from him, and the disease has been cured.”
Toler reached out and touched the boy lying on the plank.
The body that had been curled up relaxed, warming under the sun, and the boy actually fell asleep.
He didn't know if he was simply carefree or what.
Although he knew that his lord definitely had some special means.
But Toler hadn't expected the effect to be so good.
He had been secretly calculating in his heart how to find an excuse to silence all these people if the treatment didn't work.
Ning Cuo's brilliance could not be allowed to be tarnished in the slightest.
“God's miracle has been revealed, he just needs a good sleep, and some nutrition afterwards, and he will be fine.”
Although his heart ached for the medicine he had exchanged for.
But if you're going to play the part, play it all the way.
Ning Cuo raised one hand, imitating the posture of Jesus' descent, and lifted it up.
Seeing Ning Cuo's actions.
Maguire excitedly knelt down again, banging his head against the floor.
At this moment, he had become a fanatic.
It was no longer out of fear of power, but out of faith emanating from his inner heart.
The other villagers were the same, their kneeling posture more devout.
They all pressed their heads against the floor.
Even those who were carrying shields and had been trampled, now had no resentment at all, but felt honored.
Their backs had been stepped on by such a noble lord.
Perhaps they would also receive some of God's glory, and their days would be better.
“No... this is impossible, this is impossible.”
Okay clutched his head, unable to believe what he saw.
It was like a terminally ill person suddenly had a cure given to him by someone on the street, and was immediately cured.
Who would believe that?
“I have cured the illness, I am the lord here, and you have committed such a crime on my territory.”
“The facts have proven that you are a useless quack, so I sentence you to death, to be hanged, in the name of God.”
He had gone through all this trouble just to find a good reason to kill this fat man openly.
Although he could have simply given the order, with this man as a foil.
Ning Cuo could not only win the beauty, but also gain the loyalty of an entire village.
He wouldn't need to send people to supervise their work in the future, these people would be eager to make their hoes spark.
They would show the great Lord Ning Cuo what it meant to be a noble mule person.
“Yes, sir!”
Toler understood immediately and walked over quickly.
With an iron hand, he grabbed Okay, and in front of everyone, twisted his head back.
There was a crisp crack, the sound of his hyoid bone breaking.
There were no unnecessary movements in the process, but the head that was twisted back clearly showed that the body's owner had gone to the other side.
In the fearful eyes of several slaves.
Toler threw Okay's body away like garbage.
He looked around sharply.
Ning Cuo's orders were absolute, if he said he was to be hanged, then Okay would definitely die.
But now, if they were to take this man to the gallows in Rome.
How would it show the glory of his lord?
Therefore, he, the great knight, could only do it himself, considering this fat man lucky.
Ning Cuo nodded in satisfaction, as if he had thought of something.
He looked at the girl in his arms.
“I just came here, from Rome, and brought with me a new winemaking technique.”
“Since this village doesn't allow you to exist, then you'll follow me.”
Faced with Ning Cuo's olive branch, Jeanne d'Arc's instinctive reaction was to refuse.
It wasn't because of anything else, but because of fear.
She was an unlucky person, and her appetite was several times that of an adult male.
She thought that Ning Cuo didn't know yet, and if he did, he would definitely dislike her.
In a poor farmer's family in Rome.
A girl who couldn't work well but could eat several times more than an ordinary adult male.
It was completely normal to be seen as a disaster.
Long-term oppression had made Jeanne d'Arc sensitive.
She was afraid that the hero who had saved her would dislike her because of her flaws.