I Became The Pope, Now What?

It was God’s grace that the rest of the journey didn’t face any problems, and they arrived at the large castle of Count Jartel. It was made of grey stone with a dense moat all around it. It was quite big in size, and the town around it was full of activities.

“Even with all this wealth, the two brothers keep fighting,” Sylvester muttered as they moved towards the castle’s drop bridge.

“Greed and lust are among the hardest sins to control, Archpriest. If they had controlled them, they’d be clergymen, not nobles.” Sir Dolorem replied.

Sylvester silently chuckled, knowing that the clergymen were far from being pure in greed and lust. It was a human brain circuit that allowed all to feel these emotions. To control it is one’s choice, not God’s plan. Even if one worships Solis day and night, they would still feel aroused when incited.

“Felix. Get ready with your act. Sir Dolorem, you will stay with Felix and act against me. Gabriel, you are with me, and as for you, Lady Aurora. I don’t need you to participate, so you can just relax and do whatever you feel is right. I am too lowly to order you around.” Sylvester briefed his team before they started this assignment.

She nodded and silently kept staring outside. Ever since she saw Sylvester stopping the Shadow Knight, all she could think about was how he was able to do what he did. She thought about the story her father told her about finding Sylvester.

That a vision had told him to go south, and when he did, after months of travel and search, just at the right time, they stumbled across this far away unknown village where a child was about to be burnt.

And that child turned out to be the lord’s bard, who shimmered in her father’s arms and shone bright like the sun. Of course, the part about him peeing on her father was something she learnt from others.

But all those things and all the other legends about Sylvester being wise beyond his age were slowly making them clear to her. It was frustrating to her, in reality, because she too wished to get stronger and reach the peak—become the first Guardian of Light.

“Max, where is your rank plate?” Gabriel asked him suddenly, pulling her thoughts back.

Sylvester looked at his chest. “Ah, I think it got lost when fighting the Shadow Knight. I will get another once we return to the Holy Land later.”

“Halt!”

The guards of the castle stopped their little procession on the way. They only had ten members of the platoon left. Two were steering the carriage, and the rest were on their horses, four at the front and four at the back.

Sylvester shoved the papers pertaining to his identity and the reason for his visit to the guards. Then once they verified it from the inner castle, they dropped down the bridge over the moat.

“It seems the Count has increased the security now.” Felix noticed there were too many guards armed to the teeth.

“Anyone would after their wife is kidnapped and killed from their house,” Gabriel added.

Soon the carriage rolled through the castle walls and arrived at the front yard of the castle. It was a well stone-paved courtyard with many flower pots around the corners. There was even a little pond with ducks in it.

It was clear that the Count was not poor at all. But Sylvester had, in fact, underestimated how rich the man he was about to meet was.

The moment their carriage stopped near the castle gates, a little crowd of people came out to greet them. They were likely the family members of the Count.

As per the protocol, Lady Aurora got out first and was announced by one of the knights moving with them. “Tenth Guardian of Light, Lady Aurora Foxtron, is here. With God’s Favoured, Lord’s Bard, Sylvester Maximilian, and Sword of Solis, Felix Sandwall.”

Just as they all got off, a fat, tall, white man shifted forward. He was so fat that even his under-chin had an under-chin. Moreover, he had a belly so fat that he could sire five babies simultaneously. And, of course, he was balding from the top, with shoulder-length brown hair falling from his sides.

Over his fat piggy body, he donned an oversized tunic with leather armour over it and breeches underneath. But the most striking feature was the abundance of gold. The man wore more gold rings than the number of his fingers, and he also had earrings, nose-piercing, neck lockets and even gold bracelets.

The man rubbed his hands as if sweating too much and bowed his head to Lady Aurora. “We didn’t know that respected the Guardian would be coming. We would have prepared a welcome worthy of your name. But please, I shall ensure that the remainder of your visit is not unsatisfactory.”

Sylvester honestly felt a bit jealous of Lady Aurora. She was strong, and that was enough to make even a noble as high as a Count act like a lowly bootlicker. He reckoned even Dukes would act this way because she was not just any cardinal. She was a Guardian.

Sylvester spoke up instead. “Count Jartel, I am Sanctum Inspector, Sylvester Maximilian. The Holy Land has sent me. Let’s go inside and speak calmly. I’m sure this heat is unbearable for all of us.”

It certainly was, especially for Count Jartel, as the fat folds on his body started to sweat profusely. The man seemed like a walking bucket of water.

‘He even has a few gold teeth. I should keep him in suspicion as well… who knows she killed herself to save herself from this monstrosity.’

They were invited into the castle and taken to the sizeable throne-room-like hall where a long table was set. There were a few more people, some old and some kids.

‘Amazing, I can feel air flowing throughout the hall. Did he employ wizards to place some sort of ventilation runes?’ Sylvester felt the strangeness of the castle. Not to mention, wealth was flaunted everywhere, from silk curtains to gold-plated chandeliers.

The Count had understood by now that Sylvester was the leading man here as Lady Aurora took a backseat. So he introduced his family and staff to him.

“Archpriest, this is my daughter Ursala. She’s a ripe fourteen. I’m looking for good suitors for her.” The man introduced the big girl just like her father. Fatness seemed to run in the family as nearly everyone was fat.

“These are my brothers after that despicable Raftel, youngest to the oldest. Aurolis, Martel and Milton. This is my youngest son, just ten, Willis.”

Sylvester nodded at everyone and received their formal greetings. He was trying to sense any negative smell from them, but until now, all he smelled was some worship and excitement to be seeing him. He was obviously a legend among the nobles by now.

Then Count Jartel introduced him to a cripple on a wooden wheelchair, a bit too excitedly. “This man is Sir Walder Cain, the Prima of this County, the man behind my riches. He’s a genius when it comes to business.”

Sylvester looked at the man with interest as he felt a high level of worship from him and also some level of adoration.

The man was thin, like a frail stick. He had shoulder-length grey hair and a stubble beard. He had tanned skin and brown eyes, along with a little scar near his mouth, appearing to have been a stab wound.

The man straightened his back and bowed his head. “It’s a great honour to finally lay my eyes on the miracle born, Lord Bard. I’ve heard so much about you. The bards sing your name and deeds every single day in the town’s square. I always wished to go on pilgrimage to the Holy Land one day and see you, but these feet.”

“What happened to your legs?” Sylvester asked.

Count Jartel sighed from behind. “Tragedy—a horse accident. But thankfully, his brain didn’t cripple, bwahaha.”

‘Did this man really lose his wife?’ Sylvester felt awkward hearing the Count’s laugh.

Sir Walder seemed to have the same idea as his face didn’t show any kind of smile. So instead, he tried to reach Sylvester’s hand. Sylvester responded in kind and let him.

“Lord Bard, Lady Marcella was an amazing person. She had a pure heart, prayed to Solis thrice a day and cared for the people like her own children. She didn’t deserve the fate she received… please bring justice to this heretic folly.”

Sylvester nodded as he felt the man’s concerns in the smell of worry and anxiety. He seemed truly disturbed by the woman’s death. That made him look to his side in wonder if one of them had killed her. His suspicion was going towards the Count, his brothers and even his extra healthy daughter.

‘I will need to interview all of them.’ He decided.

“I will need to speak with everyone alone, one by one. Priest Felix, arrange everything.” Sylvester ordered.

Felix, however, relegated the task to Gabriel while showing a scornful face. “Priest Gabriel can do it.”

The Count rubbed his sweaty hands and started smiling. “Lord Bard, let’s have supper first, and then we can continue?”

“That is acceptable.”

So in the same hall, they sat around the long dining table. Slaves and servants soon started to bring out food and decorate the table with various forms of cuisine. Entire cooked animals were present; vegetables, butter, milk, and sugary items were there. The secret to the great bellies of the Count and his family had been revealed.

Thankfully, they were smart enough not to bring in wine, as nobles usually drink. However, when Sylvester thought they were smart, the so-called ripe fourteen daughter of the Count started throwing a tantrum.

“Where is the wine? Daddy, you know I can’t eat without wine. Argh… my throat feels like burning without it!”

“Dear, drink some water.” The Count suggested.

But, she kept screaming as if she would die at any moment while holding her neck. “Ugh… no water! Only wine!”

Sylvester looked at the ashamed faces of the Count and his brothers, along with their wives. Then he glanced at his side, where Felix was holding his laughter. Sir Dolorem, Gabriel, and Lady Aurora seemed disgusted.

The Count looked at Sylvester. “Lord Bard… if you may allow, can I… let my daughter dri…”

Bam!

Lady Aurora annoyedly slammed her hand on the table angrily. “I wonder if the Archbishop of the county is doing his work in instilling religious discipline in nobles. Such a nuisance at the dinner table—it is damnable!” ．

The Count sweated hard. He dared not disrespect a Guardian, or else even the King of Gracia couldn’t save him.

Pa!

The Count slapped his daughter right then and there, so loud it rang like a whip. “Silence, you insolent brat! Once I send you off in marriage, I will see if you still dare throw these tantrums. Now eat in silence or leave!”

The girl started crying. “Daddy… you hit me? I-I… hate you!”

The Count coldly shook his head. “I should have slapped you years ago, foolish child. Now shut up, or expect many more slaps.”

Sylvester knew the Count was faking it. He could smell his frustration and anger directed towards Lady Aurora. ‘Definitely one of the prime suspects.’

“My lord, milk?” a servant came to his side with a jug in hand to fill his glass.

Sylvester let it be refilled and continued eating dinner. But his focus was only on the Count and his actions, so he didn’t notice Miraj’s suspicious activity.

Bam!

Clank!

Sylvester looked at his hand quickly and noticed Miraj had slapped the steel glass away, letting it fall to the ground.

Miraj whispered near his ear right then. “Maxy! Poison milk!”

Not even doubting Miraj’s words, Sylvester stood up angrily, grabbed the servant’s feeble thin neck, and lifted him into the air. “Who ordered you to poison me?”

Shhh!

The sound of unsheathing swords echoed as Felix and Gabriel jumped to his side while Sir Dolorem watched his back. The platoon men circled around the table so no one could escape.

Lady Aurora stood up too and glared at the frightened Count. “What is the meaning of this, Count? You dare commit heresy?”

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