The Reversed Hierophant

Julius had come to have lunch with Rafael. The servants placed the documents on the table and withdrew one by one. Julius walked over to Rafael and picked up a book from the bookshelf. While flipping through it, he said, “The Feast of Divine Grace is in two days. As usual, Florence will be organizing a large-scale celebration. Have you decided who will be in charge of the festivities?”

The Church hosts many different festivals throughout the year, including the birthdays and feast days of various patron saints, as well as days of significance related to God, with special meanings and symbols. This included the Pope’s birthday, and Rafael’s birthday for this year had already passed. Nevertheless, there were still dozens of circled dates left on the ecclesiastical calendar.

Rafael glanced at the specially made ecclesiastical calendar on his desk. The Feast of Divine Grace was marked just a week away.

This was a celebration of the first day God came to earth, marking the new birth of the world. Afterward, God created all things, distinguished between men and women, calling them ‘my children’ and granted humanity consciousness as the firstborn of God.

The festival would be celebrated for a week, with the Holy Church distributing food and drink, day and night. The gas lamps in Miracle Square would shine brightly throughout the night, and the streetlights would illuminate all of Florence, turning the holy city on earth into a heavenly paradise at twilight.

But at the same time, those huge expenses and purchases were no small burden. The likelihood of drunken brawls would increase significantly during this period, and Florence’s crime rate would be much higher than usual, making public safety a major concern.

Choosing a suitable person in charge was necessary.

In the past, entrusting the task to Julius would have been the best and most appropriate choice, but…

Rafael felt a dull ache in his right leg, interrupting his thoughts and causing him to frown impatiently.

He doesn’t have a capable assistant, and he couldn’t fully trust the most suitable person. This would be a good opportunity to put someone to the test. Of course, it would be best if he could hand it over it to a trusted confidant.

A myriad of chaotic thoughts swirled around in Julius’ mind, but he said nothing to disturb the young pope. Holding a book, he quietly watched Rafael’s pensieve profile from above the open pages. The pope’s long, golden hair cascaded over his shoulders, like a veil of shimmering light shrouding his slender frame.

He seemed to have always been so thin.

He should have recommended a candidate at this point, but Julius found himself thinking aimlessly about how, from their first meeting, that skinny child from the slums had never seemed to put on any weight. As a boy, he had often been bedridden due to a leg injury. After a few days of recuperation, he would always force himself to go out to work, as if nothing had happened so that no one could see any flaws.

After the assassination of Pope Vitalian, Rafael had fallen into trouble again and was exiled to the poorest part of the Papal States, where he had spent his days in a dilapidated rock castle, and the little flesh he had managed to gain on his cheeks had quickly disappeared.

Julius looked at Rafael absentmindedly, noticing the slight frown between his brows and the way he was gently biting his lower lip.

Just like when he was a child, biting his lips whenever he feels pain or discomfort.

“Are you feeling unwell again? Did you get enough rest these days?” Julius’s eyes fell on Rafael’s right leg covered by his clothes.

Rafael, already irritated, was even more annoyed by the question. He paused for two seconds before swallowing his angry words, but his tone was much colder. “It’s none of your business.”

Julius was recalling Rafael’s schedule for the past few days, crossing out the  less important items. He wasn’t angry when he heard this, but instead spoke in a gentle and soothing tone, as if he was coaxing an angry cat: “I’ve written to the doctor who followed you before and asked him to come over. He’ll be arriving in Florence soon. I’ll ask him to take care of you.”

Rafael opened his mouth, the words of refusal on the tip of his tongue, but Julius, who had seen through his thoughts, cut him off: “This is a personal gift from me. He’s too old and knows too much about the Portia family. He has no children, and if you refuse him, his final days will be terrible.”

How could the Portia family not be able to take care of an old man? Rafael knew that this was just an excuse, but… maybe because his legs felt really painful and the pain disrupted his clear thinking, so he acquiesced to the decision.

“Young Tondolo,” Rafael suddenly said the name, and Julius instantly understood that their conversation had returned to the beginning. The boy who used to lean against him and speak affectionately now seemed to reject any warm topics, insisting on bringing the atmosphere back to business. “What is he doing now?”

Julius paused, sifting through the vast amount of information in his mind to find the recent situation of this ‘Sir Goose’. “He doesn’t hold any official position. Cardinal Tondolo originally wanted to put him into the Papal Palace before he died, but you stopped accepting external staff members for the Papal Palace after your coronation. After his death, he didn’t care about those connections, and now young Tondolo has been worrying about his title. Cardinal Tondolo didn’t have time to leave a will, and his half-brother has gathered a few people to fight for the title.”

Rafael was stunned for a moment. He hadn’t expected that young Tondolo, who had such a promising start, could end up in such a mess. Cardinal Tondolo had always regarded him as his heir, and as the legitimate son, there had never been any dispute over the inheritance of property and title. How useless must young Tondolo be to mess up something that was already in his grasp?

Thinking of old Tondolo’s plea to take care of this good-for-nothing before he died, Rafael frowned painfully and decided to put this useless egg aside for now. The Feast of Divine Grace couldn’t be used as a training opportunity for this useless egg.

After eliminating one candidate, the situation on the day of meeting Tondolo came to his mind again. Rafael hesitated for a moment. Even Julius could see his struggle: “Rafa?”

Rafael glanced at him quickly, not minding the address. His fingers rubbed the gilded edge of his quill as he slowly asked, “And…what about Redrick? What is he doing now?”

When Julius realized what he meant, a rare look of shock appeared in his eyes: “You want to…”

He paused for a moment before saying, “Redrick Claudius Portia graduated from the Faculty of Theology and Law of the University of Bologna two years ago and inherited the title of Duke of Lusanne last year. He’s currently living with me in the Portia Palace for the past half year and the other half going to Lusanne to fulfil his ruling duties. But he lacks experience. If we let him oversee the preparations for the Feast of Divine Grace——”

Julius paused. He had originally wanted to reject this almost absurd suggestion. Everyone in Florence knew how much hatred Redrick, the eldest son of Pope Vitalian, had for Rafael. But to his surprise, if he disregarded this factor, Redrick was the most suitable candidate in terms of status, ability, and means.

He was so suitable that he couldn’t think of a more appropriate candidate in a short time, even the one he had originally planned.

Julius frowned in thought, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized that Redrick was indeed the perfect choice.

Redrick was of noble birth and had grown up in Florence. He was well-versed in the intricate relationships between the various families in Florence, and his network was extensive enough to cover most of the aristocracy. It would be effortless for him to order various people around, and he also had his own guard, which could help the Florence City Guard maintain law and order. More importantly… he knew that Redrick had been holding a grudge for a long time and wanted to ‘do something’.

For a long time, this was also an important reason why Redrick had targeted Rafael. The fact that Vitalian III had taught and trained Rafael, brought him by his side and guided him, was a great blow to a young child who yearned for his father’s affection.

Of course, he couldn’t directly blame his powerful father, so he could only vent his anger on the innocent Rafael. For so many years, he had been holding a grudge, wanting to prove that he was better than Rafael. Until the death of Pope Vitalian III, this knot in his heart had never been completely untied.

“If he knew that it was you who gave him this opportunity…” Julius almost smiled bitterly. He imagined for a moment and found that he couldn’t imagine Redrick’s reaction.

Rafael didn’t care about Redrick’s reaction at all. He even sneered: “If he doesn’t want it, there are plenty of others who would. “

As he spoke, Rafael looked at Julius, and the two of them stared at each other for a moment. A hint of mockery flashed in Rafael’s eyes. His face, exquisite to the point of beauty, was expressionless, as cold and indifferent as a sculpture. A strange coldness seeped into his inhuman beauty: “Do you think I’m being friendly to you or to Portia?”

Indeed, this behavior was easy to be misunderstood. After all, Redrick had made Rafael’s life miserable for a long time. Suddenly offering him such a good opportunity was a bit like a trap, or a silent gesture of goodwill, a way to show the nobles who had once mistreated him the new Pope’s tolerance and magnanimity.

A show of goodwill? Rafael almost sneered.

If it were the him in the past, he might really have such thoughts.

“Don’t you think it’s interesting?” Rafael mused. “He looks down on me, despises me, but now he has to beg me for a way out. I think his expression will be very interesting when he hears the news.”

Although he said it was interesting, there was no smile on his face. He changed the subject: “—Do you think that’s what I’m thinking now?”

Julius’ deep purple eyes behind his glasses stared unblinkingly at the young Pope. He sighed slowly: “I don’t think so.”

The Rafael he knew had crawled out of the mud of fate, but he was never as dark as the maggots in the mud. He was more determined and bright than most.

If not, why would Julius be willing to abandon the pope chosen by the family and instead support Rafael, who had almost no chance of winning?

“Think whatever you want. I don’t deny that I do take pleasure in this,” Rafael admitted arrogantly, then said, “Giving him this opportunity doesn’t mean I forgave what he did. Let him struggle and agonize over it—and then come crawling to me to thank me for my grace.”

Julius nodded towards him and replied gently, “He will, Holy Father.”

“Also, send invitations to all the lords of the Papal States,” the young pope said slowly, his smile devoid of any bloodthirst, even a little shy and gentle, but there was a certain meaning to it that made one shudder. Long ago, when he was “hunting” Julius, he had smiled like this.

“They’re always cooped up in their own city-states, enjoying their solitary wealth and glory. It’s really too boring. I hope to see all twelve lords gathered together at the celebration to receive God’s blessing. What a wonderful thing that would be.”

Julius returned the same smile, saying softly, “Florence will ensure their safety. They will definitely come, I promise.”

The two foxes looked at each other and understood each other’s thoughts immediately. The twelve independent lords of the Papal States, who were being targeted by them, had no idea what they were about to face. The first to be hit was the poor Duke of Lusanne.

In fact, Redrick’s reaction to this news was even more interesting than Rafael had imagined. Redrick was nineteen years old this year, at the age where he was most fearless and arrogant. When Julius informed him of this matter, he was overjoyed – everyone knew how much power and glory he would gain as the person in charge of the Feast of Divine Grace. However, he soon heard from his respected uncle who had proposed this appointment.

The little tyrant of Florence was dumbfounded.

Julius, holding a book, walked around the living tree stump and returned to his desk without changing his expression. After turning three pages, the tree stump finally took a breath, which was so long that it seemed to squeeze his lungs dry. Then Julius witnessed the most interesting change of expression in history, from shock to bewilderment to disbelief, finally settling on anger.

No, it should be called rage.

Redrick jumped three feet high, his whole face flushed red, and he cursed loudly: “What are his intentions?! That bastard born of unknown origin! I knew he was up to no good! He wants to humiliate me?! He can dream! I swear—I swear in the name of Claudius, I will definitely repay him a thousand times over! That—bastard!”

He kept cursing and for a moment he even forgot where he was, until an instinctive intuition began to remind him, and he realized something belatedly and looked back tremblingly.

Julius, who was sitting behind the desk, had closed his book at some point and was looking at him quietly and coldly.

“If I’m not mistakan, I reminded you to respect your elder brother.” Julius’s voice was deep and cold, devoid of any emotion. “I also told you what would happen if you did it again.”

Redrick covered his mouth reflexively.

Julius stared at him for a moment, a hint of disappointment flashing in his eyes, and after a while he looked away: “Don’t worry about where the opportunity comes from, as long as it benefits you and you can climb up with it. As a Portia, you’ve grown up to this age and still don’t understand this simple truth?”

It seemed that Redrick was really too spoiled, Julius thought wearily. No matter how he corrected him, the young man who had already been set in his ways was unwilling to give up his pathetic and laughable “noble dignity”. Julius wanted to tell him that the nobility he prided himself on did not come from him at all, but…

Forget it, Julius thought indifferently. Since this one was unsuitable, just pick another one. There are plenty of Portia family members anyway.

Redrick’s face turned pale. His feared uncle said, “Now, go change your clothes, get ready, and go to the Papal Palace to thank the noble Sistine I—your brother who gave you this opportunity.”

His tone was that familiar commanding tone that brooked no room for doubt or refusal.

“Tell him sincerely and respectfully that you’re grateful for the opportunity he has given you,” said the patriarch of Portia.

Redrick gritted his teeth and reluctantly lowered his head, forcing out a few words between clenched teeth: “…I know.”

He had mentally prepared himself during the journey to the Papal Palace, but to his surprise, his request for an audience was denied.

A black-robed deacon, with a stern expression, repeated the Pope’s words verbatim: “His Holiness says he is aware of your piety and respect, and hopes you will complete the task entrusted to you well, and give Florence a perfect Feast. That is the best gratitude for his gift.”

Redrick had just breathed a sigh of relief at not having to meet the person he hated the most, but upon hearing these words, he felt uncomfortable all over again.

The young man, who was rejected at the door for the first time and was given a condescending lecture instead, had a gloomy face as he grabbed the carriage door. His face turned blue, but he had to obey his uncle’s order and forced a smile. The coach driver shrank in fear, feeling that his master was like a powder keg that was about to explode, and he would be blown up sky high along with the carriage.

Redrick felt a deep sense of shame, which made him feel even more at a loss than the news he had just heard from his uncle.

The person whom he once despised and humiliated had indeed climbed over his head. He could so lightly give him the opportunity he had always dreamed of, or deny his audience even though he had mustered up the courage and prepared all the way.

…As if he truly didn’t care about that old grudge.

But was that really possible? Redrick sneered. He didn’t believe that bastard had such a broad mind. They shared the same blood, so they were destined to fight each other to the death. Did he think he could get rid of him this way?

— Dream on!

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!