The world-devouring dragon

A wilderness full of gravel.

On her head was a flower crown made of randomly woven thorns, her bare feet stepped on sand and gravel that could cut her skin, and her eyes were bloodshot. Because he had prayed all night last night, Joshua, who had not rested all day and night, was exhausted, but he was still being held in embarrassment by the Roman soldiers, like a lamb about to be slaughtered.

The crown of thorns on his head was full of sharp thorns that had not been removed, making his head dripping with blood. His bare feet stepped on the sand and gravel in the cold wind, and his feet gradually began to lose consciousness.

It was early spring, and the coldness of winter had not completely dissipated. The biting wind made people shiver, let alone Joshua, who only had a tattered single coat at this moment.

Just as the Roman soldier who forced him to wear the crown of thorns said jokingly.

"This is your crown, O King of the Jews."

These Roman soldiers did not believe in Judaism, let alone any Messiah or savior. They just laughed wantonly at the man in front of them who claimed to be the King of Judaism.

But he did not refute, but said seriously to the Roman soldier.

"Yes, next, I will ascend my throne..."

However, his words only brought more ridicule and sarcasm.

"Plop..."

Finally, Joshua, who was cold, hungry, tired and thirsty, couldn't hold on any longer. His stiff feet lost their intuition, and he fell to the ground in a panic, but a scolding sound rang in his ears.

"Don't pretend to be dead for me, now is the time to give you the death penalty!"

As he spoke, the two Roman soldiers beside him lifted him up forcefully, and with the help of this force, Joshua raised his head...

In the open space in front of them, there were several wooden crosses. The dark brown blood stains on them proved that many people had died on them. At this moment, two people were already nailed to the crosses, and they were moaning from time to time. .

An inexplicable thought flashed through Joshua's mind.

"This is my throne."

Immediately, several Roman soldiers worked together to tie Joshua to the cross and prepare him for torture.

But the process of the cross during the Roman Empire was not just to simply tie the prisoner to the cross, but first to tie the prisoner's hands to both sides, and then to tie his feet together. And this is just the first step, just to prevent the prisoner from breaking free due to severe pain later.

After successfully tying up the prisoner, the soldiers would drive a large iron nail into the mortal's wrist and drive him into the cross. Since there is a wooden board at the lower end of the cross for the prisoner to stand on, after nailing the hands, a large iron nail will be used to directly drive through the two soles of the prisoner's feet and fix them on the wooden board. .

In this way, the three large iron nails successfully nailed the prisoner to death, making it impossible for him to break free.

Although mortals are in pain, since the three wounds are not fatal, tired and painful prisoners will often wail and scream on the cross for a long time, even for a day and night, and eventually die of exhaustion and bleeding.

When the first big iron nail was driven into his wrist, the simple, rough force that directly hurt the bones made Joshua scream in pain.

"ah!!!"

Because of the severe pain, he couldn't help but open his mouth wide and inhale hissingly. Beads of cold sweat oozed from his forehead. The pain was so severe that he instinctively tried to break free, but the rope on his hands tied him tightly. Stay there so he can't get away.

However, this is just the beginning...

"Boom!"

The Roman soldier violently waved the hammer in his hand, trying to drive the big iron nail into Joshua's wrist. Of course, it was not so easy to succeed just once. Naturally, it would take several more times to completely drive the nail in.

However, this also caused the flesh and blood on Joshua's wrist to be forcibly torn open again. Every time the rough iron nail advanced on Joshua's wrist, it would cause him to endure unbearable pain.

"ah!!!"

Struggling painfully, this man, whom the disciples regarded as their faith, could not help but cry because of the pain.

He is not the Son of God, he is just a human being, just a doctor who was once named Hana, a Jew who tried to spread love and forgiveness among his believers. Since we are human beings, we naturally have flesh and blood and can cry and laugh. What’s so strange about crying because of pain?

His voice trembled abnormally and was choked with sobs. Waves of pain hit his wrist like a torrential flood, making him wish he could faint on the spot.

However, every time he suffered, he would desperately tell himself over and over again in his heart.

"For the church..."

He was already tired, and the hesitation between God and man had brought him to the verge of collapse.

Compared with the pain of being unable to sleep day and night, the physical pain at this moment seemed to be nothing.

He gritted his teeth and said desperately in his heart, because he was really afraid that if he relaxed now, he would be unable to help but beg for mercy from the Roman soldiers in front of him.

"Boom!"

The iron nails once again penetrated deep into his wrists, tearing his flesh and blood again. The pain was so real, and it was countless times colder than the determination in his heart, but he still persisted.

"For the church..."

I tried my best to convince myself over and over again in my heart and persisted.

He really cherishes the church he founded. So many believers are willing to listen to his teachings and his ideals, making him realize that he is not alone.

The world he dreams of, that peaceful and beautiful world, is really not just his wish, but also the desire of many people.

But he is no longer able to go on, he is really tired, but if his death can give some help to the church and serve as a pioneer, let the church grow more successfully...

Then his death would be valuable.

"If my death can help the church..."

He gritted his teeth and thought to himself.

Finally, the iron nails were inserted into the cross and penetrated Joshua's arm. At this moment, Joshua's head was covered with cold sweat in pain and his face turned pale.

“The nail in the left hand has been driven in, now it’s the nail in the right hand.”

At this moment, Joshua heard the conversation of the Roman soldiers below, and he realized that the pain that made him feel like he was in another world was actually just the beginning, and one of his hands and feet would be nailed later. …

Can he really hold on?

Joshua didn’t know it, but he was willing to do whatever it took to do it.

…

Langnoukis had never seen such a scene before him. During his many executions, he had seen many crowds and all kinds of people, but he had never seen this kind of person.

He has seen tough men who never said a word and refused to scream even when their hands and feet were nailed through; he has also seen weak cowards who cried and begged for mercy before being tortured, but the man in front of him was completely different.

He didn't look strong, but rather thin. He is not a tough guy. Even if his hands and feet are pierced by nails, he will scream in pain and even cry weakly. But he was not a coward, because no matter how much he was tortured, he always gritted his teeth and persisted. He never begged for mercy from the Roman soldiers once, and never said anything like begging them to use less force.

The somewhat thin man's body seemed to be filled with an invisible will.

He is obviously in pieces and looks like he will collapse at any time, but he is always held together by some kind of tough power. He is not invincible, but it seems that no matter what kind of waves, he can't really defeat him...

"Who is this?"

The young Roman soldier murmured in stunned silence.