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Every country has a capital, but the capital of the Holy Roman Empire constantly moved with each newly elected pope, and at one point, it even drifted all the way to Avignon, on the outskirts of France.
"And this gift, it was uncovered just over a decade ago, and the document turned out to be fake," Niccolò said, twirling his pen. "I heard from my father that someone was so enraged at thetime, they jumped into the Po River, crying that they wanted to see God."
"Fake?!" Hedy was taken aback. "How could it be fake?"
"The dwarf king, in order to establish the Papal States, lied and said this was the 'Donation of Constantine,' and its existence was absolutely holy and legitimate," Niccolò sneered. "But how could Emperor Constantine have done such a stupid thing?"
"But this is the very foundation of the Papal States' existence!" Hedy, who didn’t know much about these old stories, lowered her voice. "How did they find out?"
"Through handwriting analysis, document authentication, and a hundred other methods those old men have," Niccolò shrugged. "But fake is fake."
This meant that the existence of the Papal States was entirely based on a lie?
"What’s even more interesting is what happened in the past hundred years," the young man raised his eyebrows and looked at her, circling the location of Rome on the map.
England and France fought each other in the Hundred Years' War, and in the end, France suffered a humiliating defeat. The pope had no choice but to return to Rome from Avignon, which was just beside France—after all, even the protector could no longer keep himself safe.
However, the problem was that France had its own papacy in Avignon, while Rome had another one, and due to the conflict between Pope Gregory XI and the French cardinals, it caused a double split.
"I had heard rumors about this before," Hedy said, feeling that everything seemed absurd and foolish, "but not as specifically as you’re saying. Is this why the popes have been causing chaos in the past few decades?!"
"Forty-plus years," Niccolò gave her a sympathetic look. "At one point, there were even three popes at the same time—if there were a few more, they could have kicked a ball together."
The popes were elected repeatedly, then deposed, like puppets being dressed up by others.
The current pope, Alexander VI, also known as the father of Caesar Borgia, was a complete libertine and opportunist.
He used money to bribe and eliminate his competitors, spending vast amounts of gold to purchase the papacy.
According to Catholic doctrine, the pope is supposed to devote his entire life to God, without marriage or children. But Pope Alexander VI not only had a mistress but numerous mistresses. He would revel in wild parties in the garden, and orgies and erotic dances were no surprise to him.
Caesar's mother alone bore him four children, and there were countless other children, real or claimed.
As long as one paid, he would absolve any sin—even if it involved personally murdering his own daughter. Church offices could also be freely bought and sold; if the money was right, one could wear the red robe and touch the face of angels.
Even so, the Church continued to aggressively tax the people, inventing new taxes at will.
"We have more than enough reason..." Hedy murmured. "To start a religious war."
This was not the fault of Catholicism itself, but the corruption of the entire papacy and the pope. Yet, because of their existence, countless farmers and merchants were starving, and Italy remained stuck in stagnation and chaos.
"Religion is necessary, but not in this way," Niccolò said, having written two lines, which he handed to her.
The fire blooms upon the rotting wood.
The phoenix shall rise from the ashes.
Hedy's fingertips brushed over the ink, and she slowly looked up at him. "If this is our true intent, when answering the French, they will have no reason to stop us."
Abolishing the papacy, which had completely corrupted itself, establishing a compassionate and equal new faith, unifying this weary and fragile nation... She vaguely sensed that what should have come in the future—England’s Reformation and religious reforms—might have already been thrust into the present.
Penicillin had been discovered, and improvements in gunpowder and firearms had appeared.
Countless workshops and factories rapidly sprang up in Milan and Florence, and the pope’s authority was trembling.
The world had been accelerated by at least two hundred years.
The French envoys had waited for a long time, repeatedly trying to urge the servant to deliver their documents and letters.
