I Became The Pope, Now What?

Sylvester wondered if the whole thing was a joke by one of the guards in the Soul Peninsula. But again, why would they do something like this? So either this was the story of the most debaucherous knight or the most unlucky Count. He wondered if the Count’s children were even his own. Heck, did the Count’s bloodline even survive?

Grandpa Monk laughed after seeing Sylvester’s deep-thinking face and poured him some more tea. “Here, freshen your mind of that filth now. Don’t think much about it. I tried and couldn’t come up with any reasoning.”

Sylvester was, however, also interested in the message from the Pope. ‘Did he not see that as well? If he did, then why didn’t he get it removed? Or could it be deliberate ignorance?’

“True, but I came here to check up on my visions and you, Grandpa Monk. Every time I return to the Holy Land, I wonder if you’re still alive.” Sylvester replied.

The old man coughed and looked at Sylvester’s face dumbly. “That almost sounds like you’re disappointed with my prolonged existence.”

Sylvester ignored what the old man just said and spoke about Solis instead, something that gets everyone riled up. “Grandpa Monk, what should one do if he sees another man of faith committing a sin that harms the very foundation of the church?”

Being an experienced fifth Guardian, the old man already understood that Sylvester must have experienced something in his journey. In his eyes, he saw an image of Pope Axel when he was young and going through an existential crisis because he saw something wrong done by another clergyman.

“Deathly embrace of Solis is what those clergymen deserve–that’s what the official law suggests. But, the reality is often more complex than just the written rules. Sometimes, one evil must win so we can defeat ten other evils. But, we all get judged by the lord at our end, so punishing one while alive is the duty of those alive right now.”

“What if they are not punished?” Sylvester asked.

Grandpa Monk replied instantly. “They always do… not today then tomorrow. Anyone who thinks they are the biggest fish in the pond is destined to be eaten by a bigger fish one day.

“There is a law bigger than man’s, one that accumulates the sins and the virtuous deeds, and they apply on all no matter how much one pleads. So, if you can, try bringing justice. If you can not, then let fate claim the fatality.”

‘These old men do speak very wisely but act otherwise mostly.’ Sylvester thought silently.

“In that case, I hope I can one day become strong enough to bring justice to all. Nobles, commoners, slaves, or Underhumans, as long as they praise the lord, they should be allowed to afford–the light of Solis.” Sylvester replied in the same old wise manner, which was the cheat behind leaving a long-lasting image of him in others’ minds.

“Do you want more tea, son?” Grandpa Monk asked him.

Sylvester stood up instead. “No, I should leave and meditate now. But, I did bring you a gift from my travels. Here, this is the sunflower flavoring for food and sunflower scent liquid.”

The old man’s eyes shined as he accepted the gifts warmly. “Haha, good lad, it’s always a treat to receive gifts. I will gladly utilize these. Go on, meditate and try enjoying life every once in a while. There is no point in working if you’re not living.”

Sylvester saluted him and walked out. There, he again found the pet bear of Grandpa Monk. It was also an old bear and very friendly. So Sylvester gave the good beast some honey-baked cookies as treats and left.

But, instantly, Miraj spread his paws in front of Sylvester’s face as if he were a poor beggar. “Lord Maxy, won’t you spare one little cookie for this little meow meow?”

‘Damnit, I can’t be strict when you’re this cute.’ Sylvester melted instantly, especially seeing the cat’s big cute eyes.

“Fine! But only one. You need to be careful, Chonky. You snore a lot these days.” Sylvester relented and gave one cookie, then he jumped onto some branches and found a good spot to sit down and meditate.

Miraj knew Sylvester would take a lot of time, so this time he just stayed sitting on his lap and eating the cookie, and once done, he planned to sleep.

As usual, Sylvester closed his eyes and emptied his mind. Then he started to focus on his breath and slowly felt like he was falling asleep. When he started to sense some heat radiating behind his head, he knew the meditation was working, and if there was any vision, he’d see it.

Woosh!

Soon enough, he felt his senses being swept away through a tunnel. His vision stopped being dark, and a scene appeared. It was daylight, and it seemed to be some sort of ruins of a castle. It was daytime, and all he could hear was the rumbling of the earth and the clashing of swords in the distance.

The ruins seemed new as bloodied bodies were lying around here and there, heads splattered and brain matter scattered, but it was all too blurry to see who they belonged to.

“Princess! We must leave this place! It’s not safe.”

“B-But… my father… he’s still fighting.”

“He’s fighting for you, my princess. This is an order… I must bring you to safety.”

“No! I won’t leave him!”

Sylvester tried to focus on this exchange happening. And soon, the first scene he saw was a blurry tall man in knight’s clothing smacking his hand on the little girl’s head, making her fall unconscious.

Then he put her on his shoulder and started to run while talking to her in a saddened voice. “Forgive me, Zye, but as long as you live… we are immortal in your memories… you must stay strong… the future will not be very kind to you, these walls that protected you these years will not be there, and you are small–weak–but talented. In the dark days ahead, you must show us all how you are so valiant–you must always strive to be gallant!”

Sylvester noticed a few drops of tears from the ashen-black-haired girl’s eyes. She was so small and thin, making him wonder if she’d even survive out there–if what he guessed was correct.

“Ah!”

The girl suddenly jolted awake and looked towards the sky, straight towards Sylvester, in his eyes. She cried, seemingly talking to him. “You hear everything! You see everything! Then why can’t you help? Aren’t you god? You can do anything!”

Sylvester silently kept looking at her, reckoning she was talking to Solis.

“How can you be so indifferent to my plight? How can your golden eyes be void of light?”

That, in an instant, raised some goosebumps. Sylvester was unaware that she could see him all this time. Who was she? How could she? Why? His mind was overblown with questions, but there were no answers. He could not even discover who she was since the world was full of chaos and there were far too many people with similar hair.

“Please! You sang me to sleep when I was scared… Just once more! A miracle… Please…!”

Sylvester, however, could not do anything, and he felt out of breath from this revelation. So his senses became out of order, and the vision started to end. Slowly, everything started to turn dark, and the girl simply cried.

“Don’t let her go! Master wants here dead!”

Sylvester heard the echoes of someone chasing the girl and her helper. She was not going to survive, it appeared. But he hoped she would. He hoped one day he could meet her and find out why they were connected.

So, as the vision diminished, he sang a hymn to call forth a miracle. He did not know if it would succeed, for he didn’t know if the Solis was real and his words would do something. All he could do was just hope.

“I watch the sins of mortals from afar

You are not a son of Solis anymore.

The pain you have inflicted on others.

Time shall come when in pain you too–suffer.

You bloodline–I curse today.

Specks of dust that makes you–shall wash away.”

As Sylvester sang, amidst the narrowing vision, he noticed the girl was nearly captured as the chasers threw some projectiles. But as they were about to grab her, they stared at the sky in fear and soon knelt with arms crossed on their chest–saluting the Solis. .𝘯𝘵

“Lay siege to end this bloody facade.

Perish these foul souls who seem so untrod.

Burn these with the utterance of your bard!

Fall! O’ mighty thunder of god!”

Boom!

Suddenly, Sylvester’s ears were attacked with a loud boom that abruptly shocked his mind out of the vision. He woke up instantly and looked left and right; his heartbeat was racing and echoing in the nightly forest.

He looked down and saw Miraj soundly sleeping on his lap. He wondered how long he was there, meditating. ‘That was such a strange… vision! I must get to the bottom of this! Who is she? Did my hymn do something? Could they hear me somehow?’

He looked up at the sky, and all he noticed was the darkness due to the thick cover of the Soul Tree. But there were fireflies illuminating everything, making it beautiful and indicating it was night. This brought another question, however. ‘The vision I saw was all happening in daylight! Does this mean the visions can be from the past or the future?’

He was undoubtedly left with a serious headache. ‘I should head home, or mum will be frightened.’

As he picked Miraj up, he noticed a small plate beside him with a symbol of the church painted on it, full of half-eaten fruits. ‘Who placed it? For Chonky? But nobody can see him!’

Cough!

“You finally woke up, lord bard!”

He turned around and saw Sir Dolorem standing there, appearing tired as well with dark circles under his eyes. But there were also the Pope and Grandpa Monk standing behind, staring at him with curiosity and wonder.

“I… Did something happen?” Sylvester asked them in concern, as this was unexpected. He had just gone to mediate, and didn’t expect to meet anyone here. Another thing was that the Pope was in his official robes, meaning he came here in a hurry. ‘Did I do something?’

“Son! You are one blessed beast.” Grandpa Monk commented, but it seemed to be a compliment.

At that, the Pope walked close to Sylvester and patted his shoulder and arms as if to see if he was alright. “Amazing, you are unharmed even after spending five days in meditation!”

“…”

“What?”

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