fairy tales

Chapter 451 Chu Qiuling's Promise (4)
The breeze blows, and the snowflakes wither.

Known as the most sacred spiritual territory of mankind, St. Peter's Basilica in the Vatican stands on the Vatican Heights. This is considered by the world to be a tiny place with a land of only [-] square kilometers. The Tiananmen Square of the military strategist is the size of a peerless pocket-sized cartoon country.But it is undeniable that the Vatican, known as the "Land of the Prophets", was the lucky one who was chosen by the goddess of fortune as early as [-] years ago, and won the right to a century's top luxury.

The world's largest cathedral with the central church of Roman Christianity, the pilgrimage site of European Catholics and the Holy See of the Vatican Pope overlooks the entire spiritual world like the high god.

St. Peter's Church, which is so magnificent that people have to look up, is like a holy castle that fell from the sky, magnificent and majestic.But at this moment, there is an extremely depressive sadness...

Thousands of believers gathered in St. Peter's Square in front of St. Peter's Church. The believers in Yuehua robes all bowed down and knelt on the ground, extremely pious.

"Dedicated. Shengde respects and blesses the Virgin Mary. I offer this scripture and wish you the infinite joy of grace. Gabriel, the former god of heaven, by the order of God, respectfully repays you with the cloud: Hail Mary, full of quilts Holy Grace, the Lord is with you. It is also said that the Son of God has chosen you to be his mother, and will conceive in your purest and purest womb. To save the world, you always bow and say: I am the Lord's handmaid , may it be granted to me, as you said..."

The sound of the pious "Psalm of the Virgin" hovered over St. Peter's Square, exaggerating this world, and the entire Vatican was immersed in an extremely sad atmosphere...

"Boom!"

A crisp and very loud bell rang from the top of St. Peter's Church, and countless pious believers finally couldn't help crying, and the sound of wailing resounded through the sky.

On the top of St. Peter's Church, the cold wind was biting, and the cold gale was whistling. A hundred-year-old man appeared here, with gray hair, cloudy eyes, and a dirty yellow tear hanging from the corner of his wrinkled right eye.

A white robe like a moonlight was gently draped over his body, his wrinkled right hand held a two-meter-long golden scepter, and he wore a very high crown on his head. He stood facing the wind, his body trembling slightly, He who is independent in the cold wind is none other than Pope John the Vatican.Paul X.

"Our beloved Emeritus Pope returned to the arms of the Virgin Mary 1 minute ago."

The sad words caused the mournful believers to collapse again, and the wailing, the crisp sacrificial bells, and the howling of the gale rang together into a symphony.

"May God bless our dearest Emeritus Pope, amen—"

"Amen--"

"Ah..." A scream sounded like a sharp thump from the crowd, and it resounded through St. Peter's Church in an instant. The crowd suddenly boiled, and the noise rang out in an instant.

"pope……"

(End of this chapter)