The rain in Northumbria never stops all year round, turning the stone monastery into a moldy Book of Hours.
Mortimo is a useless son who was exiled by his family, with the salty smell of the North Sea rusting in his heart, a skeleton that has not yet completely cooled down; Cofiin is a priest trapped here, with his fingertips stained with the dust of parchment and the bitter smell of medicine, a bloodless statue of a god.
In this drafty church, the caregivers and the dying people hang out side by side. Under the bad customs of the Middle Ages, the dependence between sinners and redeemers actually seemed silly and heartwarming, an absurd mirror image.
Mortimo did not believe in gods, only in pain. He turned his hatred and gloom into pus and blood and spat in the face of God; Coffey was not afraid of death and regarded it as his way back. He used absolute calm to wipe away the filth of the world.
On a cold night with a snowstorm blocking the mountains, the dying knight mocked and recited the twisted prayer in severe pain.
"He was wounded for our transgressions, and the punishment for our peace was on Him."
God is not deaf and mute, he just accepts this malice as it is
When the priest falls to death in the snow, the sinner will become an unwalkable tombstone
The most rebellious Mass in the world is called: Reverse Prayer
Demining: Medieval fantasy, dampness, true dampness, no cp direction? [Possibly] Dual perspectives, enter with caution
Reading tip: The tone of this article is gloomy, it contains a lot of the author's fantasy and a small amount of sacrificial plot, he? Unless God throws the dice
Concept: In the medieval wasteland where divinity is absent, the connection between people is just a long delay. We use hatred as food and indifference as clothing. In destroying each other, we complete the most complete betrayal of faith.