Chapter Seventy-Eight: Vatican

“Nagaz may have some strength, but he’s not cut out to be a leader,” said the head of the Lersenbar clan. As soon as he spoke, a chorus of agreement rose from those gathered below.

“That’s right. Nagaz is honest and sincere, a friend worth having, but making him the chairman of the council is clearly a mistake,” chimed in the leader of the Gangro clan.

“So, what do you suggest we do?” As the head of the Bloodline, Rus was well-versed in all the requisite airs and attitudes, and his manner now was truly convincing.

“This…” The crowd was momentarily stumped.

It was the head of the Smith clan, Rus’s direct relative, who had the authority to speak freely. He stood and declared, “In my opinion, we must not direct our blades at Nagaz during the council election. If we’re not careful, it could end in mutual destruction. I believe none of us wish to lose a friend like Nagaz.”

The election of the Dark Council, so-called, was less a democratic process than a contest of strength—the strongest would ascend to the chairmanship. With Rus, an emperor-class of the Bloodlines, present, claiming first place would be effortless, and any of the thirteen emperor-class members could easily win. Yet they felt this was improper, for they did not wish to lose Nagaz as a friend.

This revealed much about Nagaz’s character; everyone wanted him as an ally.

The group nodded in unison. The head of the Bruch clan stepped forward and asked, “So, what’s the plan?” Now they had reached the crux, and all eyes turned to Smith, who cleared his throat and said, “We can speak with Nagaz before the council election, explain our intentions amicably, and let him know that while we covet the chairmanship, we value his friendship and wish not to disgrace him.”

“Will he understand?” asked a young member of the Bloodline. This was Cain Smith, who had accompanied Bingyan to the French auction. Cain was now the darling of the clan.

“He will understand, so long as we display our strength,” Smith said confidently, eyes narrowed. He knew that if Nagaz was a man of intelligence, he would grasp the message.

The Bloodline’s task was to demonstrate overwhelming strength before Nagaz, to show that they could defeat him and take the chairmanship, but that they chose not to do so publicly, out of respect for their friendship and his dignity.

Smith’s simple explanation clarified the matter for everyone. One by one, sly smiles appeared, and the head of the Malkavi clan laughed wickedly, “We must display our might—the stronger, the better!”

Thus, the meeting settled on a feasible plan, and what remained was its execution.

After discussing, all eyes turned to Bingyan, who lay reclined on the sofa, sipping red wine and lost in contemplation.

At that moment, Bingyan was pondering the matter of the Nine Provinces Divine Dragon Cauldron. He had already obtained five: the First Prisoner Cauldron, the Second Yazi Cauldron, the Third Chaofeng Cauldron, the Fifth Suanni Cauldron, and the Sixth Tourmaline Cauldron. The Fourth Pulao Cauldron remained missing, and the Seventh Bixie Cauldron was at the headquarters of the Church. It meant he could either retrieve the Seventh Cauldron from the Church first and then search for the remaining ones, or bypass the Church and continue his aimless search for the others. It was a dilemma, especially since, according to the Ghost King of Mang Mountain, the spiritual veins of Heaven and Earth had begun to shift, and time was running short…

Forget it, I’ll play the villain once more. Bingyan had already resolved to secretly infiltrate the Church’s headquarters. After all, a true man does not fuss over trifles; what harm is there in being an open scoundrel if it’s for the sake of all living beings? Bingyan sighed.

Suddenly feeling the gaze of the group, he said, “What are you all staring at me for? If you need Nagaz, go find him yourselves. I have more important matters to attend to.”

Hearing this, the Bloodline members found it reasonable, and the course of action was decided.

The next day, Bingyan bid farewell to the Bloodline and set out alone for the headquarters of the Church—the Vatican.

The Vatican is a religious nation, officially called the Vatican City State, with a population of several thousand, fewer than a thousand residents, and an area of only 0.44 square kilometers, about the size of Tiananmen Square. Despite its small population and size, it is the world’s supreme religious sanctuary and is reputed to be the place closest to the gods.

The highest authority in the Vatican resides with the Pope, who is rumored to possess a red shield bearing two crossed keys of Saint Peter and a triple papal crown. With this shield, the Pope can command churches worldwide—his power is truly formidable.

The national emblem of the Vatican, the papal insignia, mirrors the shield held by the Pope: a red field with two crossed keys and a triple Roman papal crown. Historically, red was the color of Catholic churches; the two golden and silver keys were given to Saint Peter by the Lord, symbolizing the transfer of all heavenly and earthly power to him; the triple crown combines the bishop’s miter and earthly crowns. The Roman Pope claims to be the representative of the Lord on earth, and as the head of the Vatican, he holds the highest legislative, judicial, and executive authority, hence the threefold crown.

The current Pope is named Joseph Peter XVI (distinguished from the real-world pope by this name), about sixty years old, a man of accomplishment and unwavering loyalty to God.

Now, the aged Pope was deep in conversation with Cardinal Hessed, with Lan Omans listening nearby.

Sunlight bathed the streets, imbued with religious atmosphere. Though small, the Vatican embodies the saying, “The concentrated is the essence.” It would be hard to find a more authentic religious microcosm anywhere in the world.

There were not many people here. Aside from tourists drawn by the Vatican’s allure, the streets were mostly populated by devout believers, visiting solely to worship the sacred land in their hearts.

Yet, among the crowd, Bingyan was scheming, wondering when to make his move.

A dark night with a fierce wind, perfect for mischief.

The streets were dim, the crowds less bustling than by day. Bingyan seized the moment, venturing alone to the “shen”-shaped Saint Peter’s Square, facing the ancient Vatican Museum. A smile flickered across his lips, and in the night, he vanished.

Bingyan moved like a specter, sweeping through every corner of the Vatican Museum with meticulous precision. Half an hour passed, and he regretfully found no trace of the Divine Dragon Cauldron.

“If it’s not here, where could it be?” His eyes spun with thought, and he drew the Sixth Tourmaline Cauldron from a spatial rift—how could he have forgotten it? He slapped his forehead; even the wise make mistakes, while the foolish may stumble upon success. He had made such a simple error.

With the guidance of the Sixth Cauldron, the rest was easy. Bingyan soon sensed the presence of the Seventh Bixie Cauldron and left the museum.

The Basilica di San Pietro in Vaticano, also known as Saint Peter’s Basilica, is the central church of Roman Christianity, the pilgrimage site for European Catholics, the papal seat, and the largest church in the world.

Upon arriving at the church’s center, Bingyan was immediately captivated by the Renaissance and Baroque architecture. Saint Peter’s Basilica truly deserved its renown—not only for its authority and the presence of the Pope, but for its unparalleled scale.

Nearly fifty meters high, the central dome offers a panoramic view of Rome; from the ring platform inside the dome, one can look down on the church interior and admire the massive mosaics on the dome’s inner walls. Surrounding the church are priceless murals and sculptures by Michelangelo, Raphael, and others. Magnificent! So magnificent it inspired awe and suffocation.

Bingyan gazed at this splendor, itching to excavate its treasures—how much must they be worth…

Adjusting his perspective, Bingyan scrutinized his surroundings. Ahead stood a giant silver-white cross, adorned with delicate engravings, embodying “love for God, the Virgin Mary, and Saint Peter.” Above was the church’s dome, lined with eleven statues; Jesus Christ stood in the center, flanked by a bell on each side—Greenwich time on the right, Roman time on the left.

He sighed—Saint Peter’s Basilica truly was the world’s foremost church, the center of power and pilgrimage. If the Pope knew an intruder had entered, what expression would he wear? At this thought, Bingyan’s smile took on a wicked edge.

Following the Cauldron’s guidance, Bingyan approached the immense silver-white cross. Up close, its size was overwhelming, making anyone nearby feel insignificant.

Bingyan reached out and touched the silver edge, feeling an inexplicable stirring within. Just as he was about to continue exploring, a noise sounded. He quickly ducked behind the giant cross, which was easily large enough to conceal him.

Soon, a door opened in the wall behind the cross, and three people emerged: two cardinals in red robes accompanying a lavishly dressed elder.

It was the Pope, Hessed, and Lan Omans.

“So there’s a secret door here!” Bingyan was startled, then narrowed his eyes in delight. The seventh Divine Dragon Cauldron must be inside—the Cauldron’s aura was growing stronger.

After the three departed, Bingyan deftly opened the secret door and entered.

What did he see? A splendid hall. So there was a hidden realm within Saint Peter’s Basilica! What was presented to the public was only half the church; this deeper hall was surely the true secret of the Church.

This hidden hall had three grand doors, their destinations unknown to Bingyan, each flanked by a uniquely crafted sculpture, all masterpieces. The three sculptures, joined together, depicted the Virgin cradling her deceased son, expressing both sorrow and obedience to divine will.

Bingyan did not know that these three doors were extraordinary—they were the legendary “Door of Sacrament,” “Door of Good and Evil,” and “Door of Death,” each representing a distinct meaning.

Four spiral bronze columns supported the hall, each as tall as a five-story building. On the semicircular railings at the front, ninety-nine eternal lamps burned, and below lay the papal altar and Saint Peter’s tomb. Only the Pope could stand at this altar, facing the rising sun, and, before the assembled cardinals (who alone could enter this concealed hall), perform mass.

Behind the altar stood a gilded bronze throne, with a radiating glory niche and ivory-adorned wooden chair above it. On the chair’s back, two cherubs held the keys to heaven and the triple crown—this was the papal throne.

Bingyan quickly tore himself from the luxurious decorations and began searching for the Cauldron.

Though “turning the place upside down” might be an exaggeration, it showed Bingyan’s thoroughness—he would rather risk overkill than miss a single corner. Guided by the Cauldron’s aura, the search was easy; soon, Bingyan found the ancient, unadorned cauldron hidden in a crevice.

The Church had always regarded the Divine Dragon Cauldron as a sacred relic and employed various methods to safeguard it. As Bingyan retrieved it, he unwittingly triggered the alarm, and the entire hall was instantly illuminated. Worse still, the blaring sirens sounded relentlessly.

Running his fingers gently over the cauldron’s surface, Bingyan gave a wry smile. The Church was clever—but could they really catch him?