The Reversed Hierophant

Long tables were moved to the open space in front of the court. Black-robed monks led the court members out in a procession and stood behind the tables. This was an unprecedented feat, openly revealing the entire court trial process to the lowly people, as if they were someone to be respected. Did the trial still need to listen to their opinions?

But no one dared to question at this moment. They stood silently in their places. Everywhere they looked was filled with people.

The Chief Judge, supported by two monks on either side, was trembling slightly. He seemed a little weak in the legs. He held a piece of parchment in his hand and tried his best to shout, “…In accordance with the wishes of the vast majority of the people of Florence, the Grand Tribunal, adhering to the principles of fairness, justice, and openness, will conduct a trial here against the Lords of the Papal States headed by Lord Lauren Russo for the crimes of premeditation to commit murder on the Pope, slaughtering civilians, and so on. Now, the witnesses will present their testimony.”

Every word the Judge said was repeated verbatim by the monk standing beside him, and his words were passed from one person after another all the way to the end of the street.

Unlike Miracle Square, the main base of the Papal Court, which had a large number of copper pipes buried underneath for sound amplification, the Grand Tribunal has never been favored, like a neglected child. The building hadn’t been repaired for many years, and of course, a good thing such as sound amplification equipment hadn’t been installed yet. So now they could only rely on the most primitive method of transmitting information.

After shouting the words that the Pope’s deacon had asked him to say, the Judge couldn’t help but feel a little confused. The witness testimony had just ended, why did they have to do it again? But this was His Holiness’s request, he dared not disobey. The deacon even gave him a piece of parchment, asking him to read it word for word. The Judge had to say that he felt like his professionalism had been insulted.

But at the same time, he dared not disobey.

The old man clutched the parchment in his hand, and the sweat from his palm moistened the scribbled words on it. He recognized that the handwriting belonged to His Excellency Portia, the Secretary-General of the Papal Palace.

He didn’t want to delve into what the implications were. He just relied on his years of survival experience and sensitively sensed that today’s trial would mostly likely lead to an unexpected outcome – one that had been planned by the hands of certain people.

The witnesses also noticed the repetition of the process. They exchanged puzzled and uneasy glances with each other, realizing that there must be some problems involved. But before they could think further, the black-robed monks who had been prepared came up with the Holy Book and urged them to take the oath.

They could only take the oath again while full of confusion.

While they were taking the oath, the defendants, who were surrounded and protected by the security personnel, —this was necessary, otherwise they would have been torn to pieces by the angry mob the moment they stepped out of the Tribunal—also noticed the abnormality. Quentin turned his head to say something to them, but before he could speak, he was stopped by the monks and bailiffs who were closely watching them.

Unlike in the courtroom where they were allowed to speak freely, now Raphael didn’t need them to say anything except to plead guilty.

“For the sixty-eight crimes committed by Lauren Russo and others, including attempting to assassinate the Pope, slaughtering civilians, and bribing public officials, please have the witnesses present their testimony.” The Judge said loudly.

The witnesses who had previously spoken fluently in the courtroom now hesitated.

Under the watchful eyes of everyone, every word they said was faithfully conveyed to everyone’s ears. The entire Florence was listening to their words, which made them feel instinctively wary. Some even decided to keep their mouths shut as tightly as a clam.

The Pope, who was seated in an armchair on the side, saw that they wanted to change their minds at the last minute and sneered. He turned his head to Ferrante behind him and said softly, “Remind that lady what she wants.”

Ferrante retreated from behind and moved stealthily through the crowd, finally standing in front of the crowd directly opposite the witness stand. He didn’t even open his mouth, and his eyes met those of the female lord directly and frankly.

The woman wearing a wide-brimmed hat and a veil met Ferrante’s gaze in the crowd.

There was no need for Ferrante to speak, nor did he need to do anything. The perceptive woman had already realized what he was about to say.

The woman’s expression, hidden beneath the veil, changed several times. Finally, she seemed to have finally made up her mind. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward: “I, Lucrezia Bianchi, hereby swear that everything I say is true.”

“On the 18th of March…”

She once again recounted word for word what had happened, from the secret meeting to what everyone had done afterward. The details were so chilling that it made people shudder. Every conversation, every glance, and every action from each person was perfectly repeated from her excellent memory. The monks followed suit, passing her words on to all directions, and people’s expressions gradually changed as she calmly narrated.

Everyone was stunned by this vile and shameless conspiracy, this cruel and greedy plan. Those living at the bottom of society could have never imagined that someone would commit the heinous crime of assassinating the Pope just to leave Florence, and even putting the lives of more than 40,000 people in Florence on the chopping block— when they made this plan, they didn’t expect that the death toll was ‘merely’ over 7,000 people!

The huge impact of the evil of human nature had robbed most people of their ability to think. They could only glare angrily at those people, clench their fists, and wait for an outlet.

And this outlet didn’t take long to come.

“Gentlemen, do you have any rebuttal or additions to the witness’s statement?” the Judge turned to the defendants and asked.

The lords led by old Russo remained silent.

“Do you have any objections to the above charges, including intention to assassinate the Pope, the massacre of civilians, violations of Florence’s current commercial law, and bribery of public officials, a total of sixty-eight charges?” the Judge asked again.

This time, the expressions on the lords’ faces disappeared, and they stood upright like white plaster statues on the defendant’s bench.

The Judge picked up the gavel, “I declare the court adjourned temporarily, pending the vote of the judges and special jury members on sentencing.”

As the gavel fell, the black-robed monks simultaneously shook the copper bells in their hands and shouted loudly, “Court is adjourned!”

A buzz of discussion arose, and the people waiting in the surrounding squares and streets shouted loudly, “Hang them!”

“Hang them!”

“Off with their heads!”

“Burn them to death!”

All sorts of punishments that had appeared in human history appeared all at once. If there was a scholar specializing in this field at this moment, he could even find some obscure punishments from ancient Babylon thousands of years ago from these collective ideas, and then compile them into a book titled “History of the Development of Torture in the World.”

This kind of call also put immense pressure on the judges. Their discussion didn’t last long. In fact, with every word they said, it felt like the crowd was about to rush in and drag them out to announce the verdict. So the originally lengthy idle chat was compressed into an incredible fifteen minutes. Everyone unanimously voted for the death penalty. The only question was how to carry out the execution.

This was no small matter. From the shouts of the people present, it could be seen that an overly lenient punishment would not satisfy them. On the other hand, if they really wanted to implement cruel and bloody methods—such as ‘dismemberment,’ as some erudite genius had shouted out—it would be a bit too inhumane and detrimental to the reputation of the Holy City of Florence.

This trial would surely be faithfully recorded in history, and the final punishment undoubtedly needed to be carefully considered.

But they didn’t have any more time.

The Chief Judge was still thinking about this question till the very last second as he walked up to the podium, hoping that someone could give him a hint. He looked expectantly at the young Pope beside him, but the other party kept his head down and looked at the book in his hand, firmly refusing to meet his gaze.

Oh God.

The Judge cried out painfully in his heart, if possible, you guys might as well carry out the execution yourselves!

He walked up to the podium, knocked on the gavel, wiped the sweat from his face, and said, “After serious discussion, this court now makes the following judgment: Lauren Russo, Alessandro Piero, Simone Quentin, Clement Luranco, and Materazzi Dune were found guilty of intention to assassinate the Pope, slaughtering civilians, violating Florence’s current commercial law, and bribing public officials, a total of sixty-eight crimes. In accordance with the laws of Florence, all titles will be immediately stripped, all noble treatments are revoked, the title of lord is abolished, and the death penalty will be executed immediately. Please agree, Your Holiness.”

The Judge bowed to the Pope. In the brief silence that followed, he felt the sweat on his back had already soaked his thick judicial robe, and all the nerves in his body was stiff with tension.

He admitted that he had played a little trick at the last moment, such as deliberately omitting the manner of execution, and throwing this difficult problem to others. As for who would eventually take over this hot potato, he didn’t care. He just wanted to get off this stage as soon as possible.

Raphael looked at the head wearing the silver wig with a half-smile, and under the watchful eyes of everyone, he replied, “I agree.”

As soon as he finished speaking, there was a thunderous roar of cheers from the square, but soon, the question that had been blurred by the Judge was thrown out again.

“Hang them!”

“Behead them! Burn them at the stake!”

Shouts rose one after another towards the court, and Raphael looked at the Judge again and said softly, “Your Honor, the people are waiting for the specific punishment.”

He wouldn’t allow anyone to play tricks in front of him.

The Pope’s gentle but firm tone completely shattered the last bit of hope in the Judge’s heart.

Translator’s Note

This chapter will be split into two parts since its twice as long as usual chapters.

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