The Reversed Hierophant
Chapter 11: Glimpse of the Past

Sancha left Florence on a sunny afternoon. Rafael, accompanied by a group of cardinals, hosted a farewell party for her. When Duke François of Calais learned the news, he also prepared several lavish gifts. Sancha secretly complained to Rafael that she felt that François at the farewell party was like a flamboyant rooster.

When she said this, François was talking to a lady. Rafael took a quick look at the other person and had to admit that Sancha’s description was very accurate. This girl must have an extraordinary talent for rhetoric.

The fashion of Calais has always been at the forefront of the entire continent. The strong national power has given the nobles ample time and energy to pursue frivolous trends. In recent years, they have come up with a new trend: using fresh fruits and flowers as ornaments to decorate wigs and clothes. Wigs one foot or even two feet high were often precariously adorned with grapes, apples, apricots, and walnuts. These “fruit basket wigs” and “flower basket wigs” had been all the rage across Calais.

In this era, fresh fruit was a luxury, and using it as decoration was a way to show off one’s wealth. The ladies were keen on this and even set up many hair salons for this purpose, where they competed with each other on how to pile fruits to infinite heights on their wigs.

Of course, it is impossible for men to pile so many things on their heads, so they tried their best to decorate their plain hats, with feathers of various birds and gems. It was said that the little emperor of Calais has a hat decorated with peacock feathers and emerald gems piled underneath. The entire hat weighed a full five kilograms, and no one could get within a meter of him after putting it on.

Duke Francois’s attire today was very “Calais”. He wore tight white trousers and a short coat fastened with a gem-studded belt. The coat was woven with intricate patterns of colorful feathers. Each layer consisted of feathers of the same colour, and the combination of different feather layers created a colorful pattern. The collar and cuffs were lined with expensive lace, with all sorts of accessories such as brooches and pendants attached. He was a walking jewelry display.

Every time he turned to walk, the myriad of diamonds on his body refracted the light, casting shimmering ripples. Sancha had been dazzled by this light several times and secretly rolled her eyes behind the cover of her folding fan.

Rafael pretended not to see Sancha’s expression and turned naturally to speak to Julius – yes, as the most prominent family in Florence, the head of Portia would naturally be present. Compared to the flamboyant Francois, Julius’s attire was much more understated: a waistcoat and long coat, trousers tucked into short boots, with only a brooch and ring adorning him.

But even so, with the surname “Portia,” he was still the object of everyone’s eager greetings.

A young man with short, light blond hair and deep purple eyes stood not too far from Julius, wearing a purple chasuble symbolizing a bishop. Occasionally he would glance at Rafael with eyes full of subtle hostility and dissatisfaction.

Rafael recognized him. This was the bishop whose messenger he had intercepted on the day of the coronation. Judging from his appearance, he had very strong “Portia” bloodline characteristics, but that wasn’t why Rafael remembered him.

He remembered that in the chaotic whirlpool he had seen after his death, where fragments of the past and future intertwined and shattered, he had seen some fragmented historical pieces – in the form of written records. And among these fragments, there was mention of a man named Cain Portia who succeeded Sistine I as Pope.

His memory was excellent, so he was able to recall this person immediately. The Portia family had been entrenched in Florence for many years, almost turning it into their second home. Naturally, many family members had also entered the Holy Church. Although Rafael was the son of the Pope and had the blood of Pope Vitalian III, he was never publicly recognized. Candidates for the holy seat must fulfil a default precondition – his birth had to be legally recognized and legitimate, both by God and by the laws of man.

Rafael’s name was recorded under the name of a long-dead collateral branch of the Portia family. The connection was so remote that he didn’t even inherit the Portia surname. The Portia family also shared different opinions about him. For them, this “Pope Portia” was not legitimate, and they naturally desired a pure-blooded “Pope Portia” from a direct bloodline and an undisputed background.

Cain Portia was the candidate they put forward.

Before Rafael appeared, Cain had been steadily climbing the ecclesiastical ladder, starting as a priest and working his way up to the position of bishop. The next step for him should be a cardinal, but then Rafael appeared out of nowhere and snatched the opportunity from him. With his lifelong goal ruined, it was no wonder that Cain harbored resentment towards Rafael.

But… Rafael remembered that he and Julius had a very good relationship in his previous life. So at the end of the fourth year of his reign, Julius asked him to sign Cain’s appoinment and handed the cardinal’s red robe to the unlucky man whose promotion path was cut off by Rafael.

Julius’s explanation at the time was also very interesting. He said that Cain had worked hard for the position of Pope for nearly 30 years, studying prayer books since he was five. He had practically dedicated his entire life to the Holy Church, and his efforts truly deserved a cardinal’s red hat as a form of compensation.

As for what kind of compensation it was, both Rafael and Julius understood each other’s intentions.

Thinking about it now, Rafael just found it funny.

Perhaps from that moment on, the Portia family began to consider giving up on him, and Cain became their new choice—or rather, the correct choice they had always intended.

Rafael was merely the result of Julius’s willful actions.

But all mistakes must be corrected eventually.

Rafael’s thoughts wandered through those long, fragmented pieces, his face showing no anomaly. He greeted Julius calmly as the latter approached.

This was their first meeting since their unpleasant parting that night.

Everyone, consciously or unconsciously, scrutinized their expressions and observed their behavior, trying to gauge the current relationship between the House of Portia and Pope Sistine I. But to their surprise, both the seasoned Julius and the young Rafael appeared perfectly normal, as if there were no disagreements between them at all.

Was it a disguise, or had the two reconciled?

Filled with questions, they couldn’t help but pay closer attention to the two men’s every move.

Both Julius and Rafael were sensitive people, and they naturally noticed this vague scrutiny. Standing beside Rafael, Julius used a golden goblet filled with wine to cover his lips, hiding a slight smile as his gaze fell lightly on the young Pope.

“Do you see? Every choice you make will be dissected, laid bare for everyone to see, and scrutinized bit by bit. Without Portia behind you, this scrutiny will soon turn into more aggressive plunder and attacks. How many people have approached you recently to recommend candidates for the Secretary-General position?”

Julius moved his lips, trying to prevent anyone from reading his words.

Rafael did not answer. Maintaining a perfect smile, he looked straight ahead, nodding to a lady who came forward to greet him.

The young Pope was wearing a snow-white chasuble with gold embroidery, and the short, cape-like fabric covered his upper body tightly. Rafael twirled the papal ring on his finger and said after a long pause, “Are you going to recommend someone to me as well?”

Although it was a question, he used a flat tone and the meaning of his words was difficult to discern.

As soon as this question was asked, Julius fell silent.

He looked at the Pope beside him – his student, his ward, the person he had nurtured and guided. Now, he had grown into a graceful and gentle young man, his beauty as bright as a pearl, who was the focus of the crowd without having to do anything.

Who could have thought that when Rafael was first brought to him, he had sported such an embarrassing appearance.

Julius’s life had long been planned before he was even born. Like every head of the Portia family before him, he had received the best upbringing since birth. He began learning multiple foreign languages ​​at the age of two, and could already speak three languages by the age of six. Afterwards, he received instruction from the best teachers on the continent. At the age of nineteen, he took over the helm of the Portia family from his father. At the age of twenty, he became a professor at the Florence Seminary. Status, reputation, wealth, everything that the world envied was merely a toy at his fingertips.

Then he met Rafael, who was brought before him by Pope Vitalian III—at that time, Rafael was thin and frail, his hair dry, and his large eyes set in a small, palm-sized face, looking somewhat frightening. Redrick was two years younger than him but was physically strong, looking twice his size. The loose clothes on him were like a big sack.

But he was so cute, even with his pale face, you could still see his natural beauty that could not be concealed.

Upon meeting Julius’s scrutinizing gaze, he timidly tried to step back and avoid him. Julius had seen this reaction many times before. At that time, he was still young and impetuous, not very good at dealing with people in a tactful manner, and many people were afraid of him.

So Julius looked away and coldly asked his cousin, “Is this your illegitimate son? Two years older than Redrick? Did you dig him out of the slums?”

Vitalian III sighed, “Be gentle, Yura. He will be your student in the future.”

Julius leaned back involuntarily, “You’re joking.”

Pope Vitalian III was Julius’s closest blood relative, and he also wore the papal crown. The two brothers, one holding the crown of the world’s religion and the other holding the key to wealth and status, were of equal standing in the Portia family. Julius respected his elder cousin, but that didn’t mean he was willing to accept such a visibly big trouble.

He glanced at Rafael again—the boy had quietly hidden behind Vitalian III, revealing only a pair of big eyes to secretly observe him.

‘He’s like a kitten with claws that haven’t fully grown in,’ Julius thought. ‘He could be knocked over with a single finger, yet he’s brimming with curiosity.’

Considering the matching purple eyes that clearly indicated their shared bloodline, he held back harsher words: “You should have seen his expression. He looks very unwilling.”

After a moment of thought, he added slowly: “…and he’s afraid of me.”

The corner of Vitalian III’s mouth twitched, and his expression became a little strange: “Well… I don’t think he’s actually afraid of you… He’s very smart, and besides, you know where he comes from – he’s your uncle, put your knife away!”

The last sentence was directed at the seemingly weak and timid child.

Julius was stunned for a moment, and when he looked carefully, he found that his cousin had been tightly gripping the child’s right hand, preventing any movement. The child reluctantly released the hand behind his back—a hand that had been clutching a small, razor-sharp knife!

What hiding behind his father and not moving? He was actually being held by someone and unable to move.

What kind of cowardice and not daring to look him in the eye? This child was actually observing his every move, waiting for the moment when he relaxes, and then – delivering a fatal blow.

This was a natural-born hunter, a venomous snake in disguise, a wolf cub bearing the purest and most authentic Portia blood.

After being exposed, the small, cat-like child showed no embarrassment or regret. Instead, he shyly smiled at Julius, his cheeks flushed slightly as if to say, I’m sorry, you found out.

“From now on, you will learn everything you can from him. Listen, Rafa,” Vitalian III pressed his son’s shoulder and said patiently, “Just like I told you before, you’re very smart. You’re going to accomplish great things. But before that, I want you to be more obedient, low-key, and listen to me.”

“What can he teach me?” The smile faded from the child’s face. He looked at Julius with a coldness that was out of place for his age. Strangely, these two blood relatives, who had never met before, shared a striking resemblance at that moment. “He acted very stupidly just now.”

The child criticized Julius mercilessly, his tone contemptuous, clearly holding a grudge against Julius’s reaction upon seeing him.

…still just a vengeful kitten.

Julius thought to himself. It was undeniable that his boredom had disappeared. The child in front of him had ignited a desire for conquest in him that he had not felt for a long time. He wanted to tame this wild wolf cub, to make it obediently expose its belly to him.

Besides, wanting to kill him at their first meeting… this belated danger and excitement thrilled Julius like never before.

He seemed to…see his own kind.

“I can teach you anything you want to learn, power, wealth, status, even the crown on your father’s head, if you want it, I can give it to you,” Julius closed his book and said seriously to Rafael.

The child was startled, and a flash of naked suspicion crossed his eyes. Julius had thought he would have to expend more effort, but almost the moment his words left his mouth, Rafael blurted out in a crisp voice, “Teacher!”

The speed was so fast that Julius felt like he was being cheated.

He looked suspiciously at the father and son in front of him, always feeling that something wasn’t right.

The father and son, both with equally handsome and beautiful appearances, simultaneously revealed similar innocent expressions.