Chapter 716: Repent!
The crowd eagerly waiting to attend the All Saints' Day Mass surged like a tide into St. Peter's Square.
Schmitz discarded his newspaper but didn't join the throng. Instead, he walked toward a side door on the cathedral's southern side.
At the door, a group of Swiss Guards blocked his way and barked in Italian:
"Halt! You can't enter here."
As an Austrian, Schmitz could barely understand Italian, but he quickly pulled a folded credential from his pocket and presented it. Speaking in Latin, he explained:
"I was instructed by Acolyte Ercole to take care of some matters and returned late. You must let me in—I'm to carry the candelabra during the service today, third row, fifth column."
The guards, slightly caught off guard by his fluent Latin, examined the credential and scrutinized his clerical robes. After conducting a brief search, the captain reluctantly allowed him to pass.
Schmitz walked down the corridor with his head lowered, feeling a rush of relief. Thank God those men weren't lying—this credential really worked!
His mind replayed the day he first encountered Domenico, a member of "The Organization," in a small tavern. It was his first connection to the radical group.
Initially, Schmitz had only wanted to question the Pope directly about why he betrayed the Crusade. But the Organization presented him with a more "direct" option:
A group of zealots claiming they wanted to restore the Church's prestige.
They despised the Pope's cowardice.
They mocked the bribery that had secured his election.
They denounced his refusal to recognize Poland's holy war.
And so, Schmitz found himself aligning with them. Unlike the others, who limited their defiance to rhetoric, he was prepared to sacrifice his life for a cause.
Inside St. Peter's Basilica
Reaching a corner, Schmitz removed his clerical robes and donned a pre-prepared wig. In moments, he transformed into the image of an Italian noble.
The cathedral was far too crowded, and clerics were all preoccupied with their duties, making any rash action within their ranks impractical.
Instead, the section near the Pope, reserved for nobles, presented the ideal position.
Following the route meticulously planned by the Organization, Schmitz navigated through windows and narrow side doors until he reached a flower garden. Along the way, he encountered no one.
At the third fountain on the left side of the garden, Schmitz retrieved a waist-high black cloth bundle, glanced around to ensure he was alone, and quickly concealed it under his coat.
The hard surface beneath the cloth confirmed what was inside: an M1741 Jaeger rifle with its stock and barrel shortened for concealment.
Exiting through a final set of French windows, Schmitz stood at the cathedral's corner. To the northeast, solemn music floated through the air—the All Saints' Day Mass had begun.
Holding a Bible to his chest to obscure the rifle-shaped bulge under his coat, Schmitz blended into the crowd of nobles at the rear of the square.
A Clear Shot
As the opening rituals concluded, Pope Pius VI appeared on the high platform at St. Peter's Basilica's front gates, flanked by several cardinals.
Schmitz took a deep breath and began maneuvering to ensure his view was unobstructed by ceremonial clergy.
"Hey, watch it!" A glamorous woman in her thirties turned angrily as Schmitz brushed past her. But when her eyes met his melancholic brown ones, her expression softened.
"Oh, my, such a handsome gentleman—you must be new here," she said, her tone suddenly flirtatious.
Schmitz turned back briefly and replied in Latin:
"Schmitz. Otto Mort von Schmitz."
As he moved closer to his target, the woman followed, smiling. "You're not from Rome, are you? Let me guess—you have an air of artistry about you. Perhaps not from Upper Germany…"
Pius VI began to chant Scripture.
Schmitz reached the optimal angle, turned, and handed his Bible to the noblewoman.
"Oh, thank you," she said, her smile dazzling. "You must be devout, yes? I see... You're from the Netherlands—the land of Master Eyck."
She lowered her voice flirtatiously. "By the way, you can call me Stephanie. I'm from Lampedusa…"
But before she could say more, the young man reached into his collar.
Stephanie feigned bashfulness. "What's this? Are you planning to surprise me?"
The next moment, the "handsome Netherlander" pulled out a long, cloth-covered object. With a flick, he revealed its contents: a cold, gleaming rifle.
"Ah! No, please!"
Ignoring her plea, Schmitz raised the rifle and aimed it at Pope Pius VI, shouting in his loudest voice:
"A heretic who distorts God's will has no right to be His representative on Earth. Repent!"
His finger squeezed the trigger.
The flint struck the firing mechanism, igniting the gunpowder in the chamber.
"Bang!"
A cardinal to the Pope's left shouted, "Look out!" and shoved Pius VI aside.
"Splurt!"
Blood sprayed. Both the cardinal and the Pope toppled to the ground.
Schmitz knew he wouldn't have time to reload. He dropped the M1741 rifle, snatched the Bible back from Stephanie, and held it aloft, shouting:
"May God bless the holy Crusade! Victory will be ours!"
Chaos erupted. Nobles, clerics, and guards surged toward him.
"Seize him!"
"An assassin!"
"Don't let him escape!"
Schmitz wasted no time. Pulling a small knife from his pocket, he plunged it into his chest without hesitation.
"Herbert... No one can take your glory from you…"
Clutching the Bible, the young man collapsed. Panic engulfed the square, as thousands screamed, cursed, and scrambled in all directions.
The Aftermath
Five hours later, Pope Pius VI, his face pale but regaining some color, turned to the head of the papal intelligence service.
"Who sent the assassin? Why did they want to kill me?"
The cardinal who had saved him lay nearby, his right shoulder bandaged from the bullet wound. The coppery scent of blood still lingered in the air.
The spymaster motioned for the doctors to leave before bowing to the Pope. "Your Holiness, the assassin's name was Schmitz. Based on items found at his inn, he was likely a military officer from southern Germany."
Archbishop Chiaramonti immediately furrowed his brow. "Austria?"
Pius VI nodded thoughtfully, addressing the spymaster: "Investigate thoroughly and report back."
"Yes, Your Holiness."
As the spymaster departed, the Pope turned to Chiaramonti. "So, Muzarelli has secured the full support of the Holy Roman Emperor?"
"It seems highly likely, Your Holiness."
The Pope's expression darkened. "What should we do? Punish the Austrians or declare support for Poland's war?"
"No, Your Holiness," Chiaramonti replied. "I believe neither is the best course of action."
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