In the house with a slightly dim light, Maximo looked at the manuscripts spread on the table. Because of the scattered chaos, some of them could be connected, but more could only see the writer's meaning from those words.

"A pious soul can cleanse himself, while a depraved and filthy soul can pollute everything around him..." Maximo whispered a sentence on a manuscript, "Only by constantly asking yourself and having awe can we avoid the arrogance and conceit that is open to the arrogant and arrogant because of arrogance."

Maximo put down the manuscript and picked up another piece of paper. This time he was a little surprised to see another remark.

"The Florentines expelled the tyrants who enslaved them and established Florence that belonged to everyone, a feat that had never been done before. From that day on, no one had to worry about punishment for disrespect to the lord, and every decent and upright Florentine could bravely stand up and declare that they could contribute their wisdom to the city, which had never appeared before and could not be imagined. In order to safeguard this right, the Florentines had the obligation to defend the city from being violated by enemies such as Metic, or any other attempt to change it."

Maximo looked at the manuscript and thought that these things might be useful. Although he couldn't explain why, he still carefully collected these documents.

Savonalola was obviously very in a hurry when he was taken away, and those who took him away were only interested in him. As for the things he wrote, it seems to be insignificant to those people as long as they master this person.

Mahimo walked to the bed. He had long known that Savonalola's life was simple and even poor, but looking at the dry hardwood bed, he could not help but reach out and press it.

Then his hand touched something hard under the pillow.

When he lifted the pillow, he saw a book with a wooden cover. The book was not big and the sheepskin covered on the corners was already torn, and it was obvious that it had been a few years.

Maximo gently opened the book, and what surprised him was that it was not a manuscript, but a diary.

The handwriting in many places above is already blurred, but the traces of time left by different eras can still be seen from the words and sentences. Even some of the words and sentences look very childish, just like the self-confession of the young boy in the early years.

"It's such a terrible thing. I think I'm probably poisoned or cursed. Whenever I see her, my heart will pound, my blood seems to be heating up, and I think I'm sick because I'm sweating constantly, and then I'll become stuttering."

Looking at the page that was flipped casually, Maximo was slightly stunned. He did not expect to see such content. This made him suddenly feel that the monastery who was always pure but so far away in his impression suddenly became a little colorful.

Maximo kept flipping through the diary. What surprised him was that in the diary he saw the boy, young man, and some private matters that others probably would never know.

"I saw that man drinking constantly, while his family was begging, and this man was completely degenerate. He had no property but refused to take on the responsibility of being a husband and father. He gave all his savings to those lush but unkind prostitutes, and after receiving a brief pleasure from them, he was indignant about his own predicament."

"I was shocked by what I saw today. I saw a clergy who had been deeply admired before coming out of the home of a notorious woman. The smell of alcohol and the smell of women could be smelled even when he stood so far. What is infuriating is that no one came forward to express his indignation for such a blatant act of blasphemy. This makes people doubt that the whole church seems to be smoky, and such a fall is already insignificant here."

Maximo turned page by page, but was slowly attracted by the contents of the diary because of his curiosity.

A soft sound came from outside the door, because he was too focused, Maximo didn't even see anyone walking in.

"We are going to meet the Florentines."

The bishop standing at the door said coldly that he was not hostile to this guy who won the favor of the pope by being a drummer.

There are many such people, but there are too few who can really stay. After all, not everyone is as good as Cardinal Montelo, who can make a fortune by flattering and flattering. Even Montelo's bishop has already changed new people.

"This book is quite interesting," Maximo said, putting the diary into his small bag. "Are we going to meet that new ruling?"

"Yes, we need to know the attitude of the Florentines toward the Holy See." The bishop inspected the room and frowned. "This room makes me feel uncomfortable. I think that Savonalola must have left something evil here, and maybe the house should be demolished."

"It's time to demolish it," Maximo turned around and looked at the room. "Since the master is no longer here, it's really meaningless to stay in this house."

Maximo walked out and paused slightly when he closed the door.

Although it was a door closed, Mahimo felt that he was signing Savonalola's death sentence with his own hands.

The square in front of the Florence City Hall is very lively.

Countless people are running around busy, as if everyone is shouldering an extraordinary mission.

The expressions on people's faces are also completely different. Some people pretend to be happy, while others look gloomy, but more people's faces are confused and restless.

It has been two days since those "angry" broke into the Monastery of St. Mark and forced Savonalola away.

During these two days, the Florentines spent this unusual excitement.

Some people saw danger, others saw opportunities. As Savonalola's accomplices were eliminated one after another, many people began to think about the vacant positions in the municipal government.

The Sazi family has now become the most powerful group in the city. Several Sazi controlled important positions in Florence, from the commander of the city defense force to the financial officer, the surname Sazi can be seen everywhere, and the new consul in Florence is Gulvio Sazi, the head of the Sazi family.

There seemed to be a commotion in the square. Sachi easily saw the team passing through the square from the window on the second floor, causing countless pairs of eyes to watch.

"The Pope sent someone here." Although he had already received the news, he was still a little uncomfortable when he saw those people.

Sazi cannot but admit that Savonalola's tit-for-tat confrontation with the Holy See made Florence escape the control of the Holy See in recent years. Although they fell into the Savonalola again, it seemed that they could never get rid of the shackles of thought, at least the Florentines nowadays are somewhat resistant to the Holy See.

However, Sazi knew that this resistance would soon disappear. When they decided to overthrow Savonalola, it meant that he had to abandon his previous policy of being an enemy to the Holy See, otherwise Alexander VI would not mind building the Metic family back to power.

As for the possibility of letting the Metic family return to restore power, neither Savonalora, Sazi and his companions will accept it.

So, the only way is to have a good relationship with the Vatican.

What's more, thinking about the Earl Montina who is now stationed on Kings Mountain, Sazzi felt that this was the only way out.

The squad of the Holy See had disappeared into the dead corner downstairs, and Sazi calmed down a little. He knew that it was not easy to get the Holy See to recognize the legitimacy of the new Florentine government. The greedy Alexander VI would have put forward unacceptable harsh conditions, but now he had no other way.

Alexander sat on a stone. At this time, the sunset that was setting the mountain was red. The fire-like clouds covered the sky above the city below the mountain through the magnificent light, painting the entire Florence with a layer of intoxicating color.

He remembered that because of the pronunciation, Florence was once called Feilencui. Although this name always reminded him of the Emerald City of Oz, now looking at the city bathed in the golden sunset, Alexander couldn't help but sigh softly.

There have been too many legendary figures in this city. They ended the dark history and opened up the era of light. They left their own marks in their own way.

Leonardo da Vinci and Michelangelo, these people are the pride of Florence and the giants of this era.

But for Alexander, what really attracted him in the city now was Savonalora.

According to the agreement between Alexander VI and him, Alexander's army could not enter Florence, but this did not prevent him from deterring those Florentines.

And as far as he knows, this is exactly the intention of Alexander VI. In the negotiations between them, the Florence issue was one of the conditions for negotiations.

Ofulei walked to Alexander, and he brought Alexander a plate of mutton soup.

Alexander never deliberately shared the joys and sorrows with his soldiers. Even when he was marching, he would not refuse if he could have a good meal.

However, he is not greedy for his appetite, so when the conditions are not good, he will eat the same food as the soldiers.

The broth tastes bad, mainly because besides salt, only a little dried ginger powder and a little pitiful sour millet juice are added, which makes the broth smell unpleasant.

Alexander picked up the bread and took a bite. It was a bit hard but it was still edible.

The distance from Pisa to Florence allowed both troops to quickly reach their destination with just a brief marching, and Alexander believed that in this era, there were not many troops who could compare with themselves in terms of marching speed.

"Sir, what do you think they will deal with that Savonalora?" Ofulei asked suddenly, then seemed to notice Alexander's slightly surprised look. The marching captain curled his lips slightly. "A businessman in Pisa mentioned that Savonalora. He said that that person is actually a good person, very pious and honest, at least better than many Florentine nobles."

Alexander nodded as he heard this, looking at the city below the mountain.

"You may be right, Savonalora is a good man, but because of this, his sins may be heavier than others."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand very well," Ofulei was a little confused. The young stonemason who was showing extraordinary talent in the military organization did not understand what Alexander meant. "Isn't it because he is a good man that he should not be subject to such unfair judgment?"

Seeing that the marching captain rarely showed this look, Alexander couldn't help but chuckled.

"Offlei, a good person may not necessarily become a good ruler. Sometimes a person who pursues moral perfection may even do more destructive things, because such people cannot tolerate imperfect things, nor can they tolerate imperfect morality," Alexander said to Offlei seriously, "but the problem is that there are no truly perfect people in this world, including Savonalola himself."

Ofulei was a little puzzled to listen to Alexander's words. He couldn't think of anything wrong with this, but he had the urge to deny it vigorously.

This surprised Ofulei because he wanted to admit what the count said, but he struggled a little in his heart. He found that he had never had the desire to argue with the count so much.

As if feeling the contradiction in Ofulei's heart, Alexander stood up from the stone.

"Believe me, Ofulei, you will want to refute me because I have made a mistake that many people have strongly denied," Alexander patted his shoulder as he walked past the captain of the marching army. "Anyone who wants to pursue moral perfection is actually pursuing his heart to be an existence higher than others, and that is something that only God can touch."

Ofulei's body trembled slightly, and he looked at Alexander's back with some fear.

"And no one who wants to act on behalf of God will end up with any good results." Alexander's voice came slowly, making Ofulei feel horrified.

Machimo sat at the end of the long table, opposite him was the new Florentine consul Sazi. On the left of the long table was a group of Florentine officials, and on the right were the Vatican messengers.

"The trial must be made public," the bishop's voice was firm. Although he noticed that all the Florentines, including Sazi, looked ugly, he left no room for anything. "This is the order of His Majesty the Pope and the will of the Vatican."

"But Master Bishop, what kind of crime are you going to give that person?" Sachi asked with a gloomy expression.

He understood what the purpose of Alexander VI insisted on the public trial. For several years, Savonalola's criticism of him made Alexander VI lose face. In some places, when mentioning Alexander VI's debauchery and the depravity of the Vatican, people simply quoted some sentences from Savonalola.

This made Alexander VI almost unbearable.

Because of this, he hoped to shame Savona Loram through public trials, and he hoped that everyone would see how his enemies were discredited and even became a criminal.

"Will his crime be less?" The bishop glanced at the row of Florentine bureaucrats opposite him, and a sarcastic look appeared on his lips. "I think you can definitely find out the crimes he committed, such as the reputation he cherishes the most. Isn't that the best goal?"

"Master Bishop, you may have misunderstood," a somber official looked at the bishop. "I know you hope to find out his crimes from his personal morality and convict him, but I want to say that if this is the case, you are doomed to fail. No one will believe that Savonalola will be in personal morality, and even the most harsh person cannot convict him on this. I can even say that Savonalola is almost a saint in piety and morality."

"Please pay attention to your words!" The bishop looked at the official coldly. "You are defending an enemy of the Vatican and the Pope. Ironically, this person was just overthrown by you."

The bishop's words obviously aroused the dissatisfaction of the Florentines, and everyone showed anger of anger in their faces. They all looked at Sachi, who looked ugly.

Sachi looked at the bishop and met the sharp and provocative gaze in his eyes.

"We must make him confess his guilt first, no matter what means he uses." Sachi finally spoke.

His words made the Florentines suck in a cold air, and they knew what this meant.

Many people looked at Sachi in surprise, and some people were already wondering what agreement he seemed to have reached with the Pope's messengers in this matter.

"But what crime should he be charged?" a Florentine asked a little hesitantly. "We all know what kind of person he is."
Chapter completed!