Following the Tiber River down, near the southwest of the Roman city, the Tiber River suddenly widened, and the scenery on the other side of the river could have been clearly seen as the distance became blurred.

Here, the Tiber River has a not-so-large turn. A spindle-shaped island in the heart of the river temporarily divided the Tiber River into two tributaries, and then merged again at the other end of the island and continued to roll downstream.

This small island is called Tiber Island. Although the island is not large in size, there is a very famous building, the place where Saint Gulfra sleeps.

In the history of Rome, there are no shortage of saints who were martyred for faith. There are many stories from St. Paul, the earliest to countless sages who sacrificed their lives to spread doctrine. In fact, some are exciting, some are fascinating, while others are melancholy and helpless.

Among these early martyrs, Saint Gulfra was considered a very alternative person.

This man was almost useless in the first half of his life, and he was even a wandering young man who was living a life of life and was even less at ease after becoming a monk, so he quickly couldn't stand the hard life in the monastery, escaped from the monastery in the name of preaching, and then relied on a beautiful face to seduce wealthy ladies everywhere.

Such a person could not have anything to do with becoming a respectable saint, but this is how many wonderful things happened.

When he was almost 40 years old, the idle monk suddenly became a different person as if he had a great enlightenment. He abandoned his debauchery, cut off his ties with all women, and then began to practice devoutly and listen to God's will. Ten years later, he suddenly claimed to have received God's revelation after praying, and then he decided to build a monastery on the small island in the heart of the Tiber River.

And at that time he vowed that the monastery must have been raised by him, and he was unwilling to accept any large donations.

His wish is obviously not so realistic. After all, such a monastery cannot be built on his own squandered property and his little fundraising. But Gulfra seemed to be possessed and really began to prepare funds everywhere to build this monastery that was never likely to be built to others.

Gulfra spent the second half of his life completely in almost complete suffering. Many people asked to help him, but he refused them all, and he was unable to build this monastery until his death.

By the time he died, the monastery had only built a foundation that seemed to be indefinitely present.

But he was respected by people. He was buried in the center of the foundation of this unbuilt monastery. A tombstone was erected to express his memorial to him. Many people regard him as a proof of God's salvation of a living fallen man. Because of this, he was named a saint more than a century after Gulfra's death.

As for the monastery on Tiber Island, some people were willing to invest in continuing to build it, but this suggestion was not agreed in the end. This is because the church believes that the unfinished monastery seems to be more truly showing that Saint Gulfra's goal is still unfulfilled throughout his life, but he can eventually be buried here and still be given the meaning of God's forgiveness and glory.

However, at the other end of the island not too far from the San Gulfra's sleeping place, another monastery was built to commemorate the return of the prodigal son.

The terrain of Tiber Island is higher than the northern end of the Sleeping Land of St. Gulfra, and the southern end of the monastery can be vaguely seen from the door of the monastery, but because the terrain is low, other things cannot be seen.

After a few days of cold weather, the city of Rome was in a continuous rainy and rainy sky, and the sun was so gray that it was impossible to see. Standing at the door of the monastery, a stream of cold wind poured into the collar of clothes. No one was willing to go out at this time.

Some land on Tiber Island belongs to monasteries. Some vegetables are grown in the fields to serve the daily lives of the small monks, and the rest will be sold on the market.

Every day, people would row boats from the city to the island to take care of the land, and then transport the vegetables to the city market to sell. Except for the monks in the monastery, there was no one else on the island.

Because it rained, the river surface was a little unstable. Two people who rowed on the island every day shrank their bodies into not-so-thick felt robes, holding the oars and rowing hard. The water surface around them was hit by the vast water curtain, and the rain splashed on their faces looked very cold.

"Who is that?"

A man on the boat suddenly pointed at the level in the distance. His companions looked back and saw through the water curtain that there was a wooden boat about the same size as they were rowing on the river in the distance, heading towards Tiber Island with the waves.

"Who else comes to the island in this kind of ghost weather?" the man I saw before muttered.

"Maybe it's because the anniversary of St. Gulfra is coming soon," his companion drew a cross on his chest. "I hope St. Gulfra will bless you, the city of Rome has been too uneasy these days."

"Yes, something always happens. I hope those damn Frenchmen get out quickly. They have been in Rome for a long time."

While rowing towards the monastery, the two began to curse the French, and soon they were forgotten that they saw a boat on the river.

So they didn't know that the boat was rowing along the shore of the island toward the northern end of the island until it found a suitable place to dock, and the people on the boat jumped into the cold water and dragged the boat to the shore.

The man walked along the slippery mud and walked towards the monastery foundation of the Saint Gulfra sleeping place that would never be built. When he climbed onto the platform of the monastery foundation made of large stones, he saw a figure standing in front of the tombstone of Saint Gulfra in the middle of the foundation.

The man who had just arrived ashore walked through the crisscrossing stone foundations and arrived at a place not far from the man.

"Saint Gulfra has been pursuing dreams that will never be realized all his life," the man who had been waiting slowly turned around. He took off the hood on his head, revealing Crien's face that was extremely similar to Kunto. "So who can tell me what he really pursues?"

"What will a playboy pursue? Money, wine, beautiful women?" The people who came to the island also took off the scarf that was worn on their faces to cover the cold, but he was wearing a pair of masks on his face. If Nashan saw this person, he could recognize that this person was the masked man who kidnapped Joanna when he attacked Marino Palace.

"It took St. Gulfra to know what he was going to explore, and then he could abandon everything he had been obsessed with before and serve God with all his heart and strength. Then the forty years before this was a test for God to him. In fact, everyone was going through this test, but after they could truly withstand it like St. Gulfra, they finally understood the meaning." Crien said with a little emotion, and he reached out to caress the extremely cold tombstone in the rain, and then looked at the masked man, "What's the matter with you coming to me?"

"I'm here to warn you," the masked man took a step forward, and a stern light shone in his eye hole. "You did too much. This is Rome, not Sicily, but you dare to kill people here, and the Archbishop of Frankfurt is the one who killed. Don't you know how much trouble this will cause us?"

Crien looked at the man with a bright look, and his palm gently patted the tombstone, then turned around to face the other person: "So they asked you to come?"

"Yes, it was the 'old men' who asked me to come," the masked man walked a few steps before to Crien. "We know you have always cared about the death of your brother Kunto, but you must remember that this is not Sicily, and your stupid brother is not worth remembering for him. You know that he doesn't know many things, he doesn't even know who he is doing for, so he dies in a mess. Is it worth it?"

"He is my brother," Crien clenched his fist and smashed it hard on the tombstone. The splashed water droplets jumped into the masked man's eye. "I know what you have done in Palermo. Maybe Alfonso, the Bishop of Palermo, doesn't understand you, but I know how greedy you are. You are just a group of guys without any loyalty, more disgusting than those who lend money to usury, otherwise you wouldn't betray Kunto."

"We didn't betray your brother, it was because he was accidentally. It was only his own stupidity," the masked man showed anger in his eyes. He walked up two steps again, staring at Crien's eyes with his eyes behind his eyes. "Listen, Kunto is dead, and the 'old men' are not ready to pursue the things you did in Sicily, so let's just forget about these things, but if you are not honest in Rome but kill people everywhere to cause trouble, then don't blame us for being ruthless. You should know that the French are not having a good life now, and they can't help you, and as far as we know you are just doing things for Orleans, do you think Charlie's people will help you so easily?"

"I know what to do," Clarion said without any objection. "But I still want to say that you are becoming more and more sad now. I heard that a group of you attacked Joanna, not only did you not get a penny, but they even killed many people by the other party. Even you showed that you were left behind by Joanna's people, right?"

The masked man looked at Crien silently. He blinked his eyes after he looked down upon and said in a voice that was suppressed and angry, "If you want to sarcasm, just sarcasm, but if you were there, you would know what happened. You must know that I have never encountered such a thing, and I have never seen anyone who can use sabre so skillfully. I mean, even on the ground, that person's sabre is so good."

"It seems you have met an opponent," Crien frowned. "I know the man who protects Joanna and is very familiar with him. Or it is because of him that I have to leave Sicily, but I didn't expect that when he found such capable subordinates. I heard that they were using muskets at a very close distance without igniting the medicine twist in advance. How could this be possible?"

"Is this impossible? But many of my people were suddenly hit by the muskets that emerged from them. We were so close to them, but we didn't see them pointing medicine, otherwise we wouldn't have lost so many people at once."

"But it is said that Joanna was still stolen," Crien's gaze gradually became stern. "But tell me you didn't actually get any benefits?"

"Are you saying I was hiding that money from others?" The masked man asked back dissatisfiedly. Seeing Clarion's expression of 'that', a sneer came from behind the mask. "Listen, no matter how greedy I am, I won't do this, because I know the power of the 'old men', and I know that they can't let those guys who want to embezzle. Not that no one has done this before, we all know the consequences. Many such people have drowned in the Tiber River, so I won't do that kind of stupid thing."

"Was Joanna bluffing?" Crien asked in confusion. "Her money wasn't actually lost? But why did she do this?"

"How could I know? But I have seen her and I can't see that that woman is so smart." The masked man said disapprovingly. "My man did find a large amount of money and a box full of money, but the Sicilian suddenly showed up with his man."

"You mean that Gombre?" Crien asked strangely. "He appeared later, didn't he protect Joanna before?"

"Of course not, otherwise my people might not have time to rush into the Marino Palace. His men didn't look very powerful, but my people made them beat so badly," the masked man couldn't help but touch his wrist as he said. He still remembered the saber in the hand of the weird Bohemian, and his wrist still hurts faintly. "Except for the Bohemian."

The masked man's words made Crien look curious on his face.

Since leaving Sicily, he originally thought that he would never have any interaction with the young man named Alexander, but he never expected to meet again in Rome.

Palermo's setbacks were not only a failure for Crien, but also made him angry and painful.

He had to abandon his family and escape from the island, but when he saw Alexander in Rome, he unexpectedly discovered that the young man who had brought him into such a situation had become the lord of Naples.

But now, in addition to hatred, he had new doubts in his heart.

If the money Joanna claims to have lost is true, if it does not fall into the hands of the person in front of her, then who will it fall into?
Chapter completed!