The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 297 Ch.296 Mary
Just like the relationships within Holy Cross.

The monastery is far away from the Inquisition, but adjacent to the Church.

It is a townhouse, consisting of long and short single-story buildings. It occupies a large area and is surrounded by black painted iron fences three or four people high. From a distance, it looks like a black forest of guns rising from the ground.

There is a silver cross hanging every few steps. On the inside of the "Gun Forest" is a high wall made of gray earth, and on the outside are plants with slender, curly leaves and red leaves.

Green vines clung tightly to the walls and iron railings, filling the gaps between them.

Roland saw some women wearing black scarves, black belts around their waists, holding rosaries or wooden crosses in their hands, pacing silently in the manor like ghosts.

Holy Cross of Divine Majesty.

The surroundings were desolate and silent.

No businessman would open a store here, and no sane citizen would come here to cause trouble.

A few ragged men were sitting in the corner, staring at the carriages coming and going with lifeless eyes.

Those gorgeous and strange flowers and vines seemed to be sucking their souls.

The women turned a blind eye to this.

They seemed to be carved from the same mold. They walked so steadily that you couldn't even see the movement of their legs under their robes. They kept muttering something with their heads down, waiting for the miracle of a mute speaking.

There is no majesty of the Inquisition here that makes people look at it with fear; nor is it as glorious and holy as the church. The hymns surrounding the dome allow every believer to spend very little money to experience the baptism of the soul as if the true God is touching the head.

The monastery is like an old ship from the last century, which is reluctant to sink even though its deck is creaking. After being exposed to the cold sunlight, cold flowers bloom in the cracks.

"Here we are."

Shandel said.

She looked past the iron railings, across the sand and lawn, and the low houses extending backwards, all the way to the main hall.

That was where she had stayed.

"What should I do?" Roland asked in a low voice.

"You are mute. I brought you here in the hope that you could listen to the whispers of the Father in this undefiled place, receive the mercy of the cleansing fire, and burn the evil thoughts and filth in your body." Xiandel leaned back, as if he could already feel the invisible power coming towards him from the buildings.

"Don't talk until I take you to Helen Menzie."

'Girl Collins' held her chin and tapped it gently, just like a girl who never left the house but absorbed sorrow from books. She lowered her brows and looked sickly at everything she didn't care about on the street.

"This is far too risky, Shandel."

"Are you afraid?"

Roland shook his head slightly: "This has nothing to do with you - whether it's a secret society or a real sect. Xiandel, this has nothing to do with you... You don't have to take risks with me."

Shandel is different from Rose.

She didn't like Roland always saying things like that.

"I can guarantee that you won't find any words in the book that can solve your doubts - some books are banned not only because they describe alien species."

"For knowledge and experience about secret societies and associations, we must consult someone who has done this before."

"Roland, as you said, but do you have any other ideas?"

"certainly."

"Like a giant bat."
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How do you say that word?
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Greed knows no bounds…

"You're pushing it too far?"
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Enid and Fernandez have taken good care of me. I can't ask an Inquisitor to teach me how to start an illegal sect or secret society, can I?
"I think she would be happy to give you some advice after hearing this, and maybe even want to participate."
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Do not make jokes.

The carriage was getting closer.

"It's a pity that the memory Su Yue left me does not contain any knowledge about religion and social organizations."

"Otherwise you don't have to take any chances with this soup."
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Miss Nina has left me too much.

"Oh, it's a good thing you think so..."

"I'll try to compare the memories she left me with and see if I can give you some useful advice."

"Be careful, Roland." "I feel like this is very dangerous..."

"It's very dangerous."

No need to use a wrench.

When the carriage stopped not far from the monastery, Roland could 'see' that it was very dangerous.

Whether it was the "Great Whirlpool" in Bristol, or the church and the Court of Inquisition in London, Roland had never seen a building or manor shrouded in such a huge ceremony.

Flames burned in his eyes.

Almost touching the bright day.

This complex of buildings…

Live in flames.

"What are you looking at?"

Shandel got off the carriage and found that Roland was looking up at the main building without blinking his eyes.

"nothing."

"Terrible power..."

"Do you remember the 'Whitehall' that purified you?"
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of course.

Under the church.

He had been led by Bishop Kratov and had his name written in blood on a golden book - but there, or where he was recuperating, that 'egg' wrapped in strands of gold... none of these were as radical and violent as the ceremony before him.

It was hard for him to imagine what the nuns who lived there endured every day.

"Maybe it's a ritual to nourish the skin and prolong life."
-
You're right, maybe it's a ritual that will allow them to live for 20,000 years.

"…You're so unlovable."
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I am nervous and cute now.

Apparently, Shandel Kratov's face - lake blue eyes and iconic gray hair - is enough to speak for itself.

She and Roland walked side by side through the strange flowers and vines. When they arrived at the door, the nun guarding the door almost jumped up from her chair - a short, stout woman like a wooden block, with wrinkles on her face like a wall hit by a sledgehammer.

A few missing teeth and a flat nose can make people pay more attention to the nostrils rather than the eyes during conversation.

"K-Clover——"

She still has an accent, but the stutter is not natural.

"It's 'Kratov', Mary."

Shandel corrected gently, looking at her belly that looked like a flea full of blood: "You've gained weight again. The air in London is full of yeast, isn't it?"

The woman in the black headscarf smiled flatteringly, but Roland noticed the fear in her eyes that could hardly be concealed.

"I..." She didn't know whether to thank him or talk about her own life.

Because the memory of the past always warned her:

No matter how you answer, the result is unspeakable pain.

She actually trembled a few times in front of Roland and started to shake: "...I, I beg you, please, forgive me..."

Shandel covered his lips in surprise, took a step back, and looked around: "I'm sorry, Mary, why are you doing this--"

Mary became even more frightened.

She was almost twice as old as Shandel, but at this moment, like a baby in swaddling clothes who couldn't control herself, tears flowed from the corners of her eyes reflexively: "I miss you..."

She knelt down in public under the gaze of a few people.

With his head lowered, he reverently picked up the soil that Shandel had just stepped on.

Kissed it.

(End of this chapter)