I Became The Pope, Now What?

“What mountain? I never read about it anywhere.” Sylvester was fully awake after hearing this strange name. But, he was someone who had read about nearly all the places in the world. The green mountains, the burning mountains, the barrier, the pentapeak range. But this was the first time he heard Mountain of Tears. The name itself was so ominous.

“It’s supposed to be a holy site?” Sylvester muttered.

Sir Dolorem was already preparing the items they’d need on the journey. “Yes, it is not in the maps of the books for a reason. Come, I will explain everything once we reach there… maybe it will get you some well-needed fresh air and inspiration.”

‘This old man, he’s trying to be a caring father or something?’

He didn’t deny it, however. “I presume the Shadow Knight won’t come to hunt me there?”

“The whole mountain exists on shallow flooded plains. The water in that entire area is considered pure and holy. No dark entity can even touch it, so don’t worry.”

If that was the case, who was he to deny? He also packed his luggage and even put Miraj in a bag as the furry boy was a spoiled sleepy boy. He also kept the necessary crystals along and headed out with the spear of infinity on his back.

“We need to sneak out.” Sir Dolorem warned and lightened his steps.

Since it was early morning, most guards were tired and lazy. So they had no problem finding their way to the backside of the castle, from where they entered the town and then headed towards the East. The mountain was not too far, as the Count’s castle was adjacent to the water body it lay upon.

Under large dark robes, they moved towards the White River port to get a port and reach the river delta, the tall and dry mountain sat.

“Sir Dolorem, be honest. Why are you taking me there?”

Sir Dolorem took a long breath and explained. “Because I want you to learn a lesson there. A lesson about when caring for others and risking one’s life becomes too much. As honourable as dying for others may be, I do not wish to see you dead.”

“And I have no intention of dying. Remember that Archbishop in the cave years ago? I’d kill a hundred more like him as long as I, you, mum and the two buffoons can live.”

Sir Dolorem coughed and picked one of the empty boats at the shore. Yes, they were stealing, but they would return it in a few hours.

“Let’s go.”

The two rowed the boat one by one and slowly made their way to the mountain. A cave, to be specific. They also had to avoid a few swamps on their way. The area’s topography was strange and amazed Sylvester, as he saw many trees around him, and even the land was just a few feet below the water surface.

“What caused this delta to form?” He asked.

“A flood… a flood so big that it caused irreparable damage to the lands. You will know more once you enter the cave system.”

The sun also started to rise after a while, and by the time they reached the cave entrance, the sunlight enabled them to see the surroundings clearly. It was all desolate, flooded plain area. The mountain seemed like a hardened rock, more than a pile of dirt.

“When did you find out about this place?”

“When I was a young man in the Holy Army. Back then, there used to be a Gracia Empire, not just a kingdom. All the lords rebelled and wished to cut out a bigger piece of land for themselves. During that time, I was stationed in a camp up north. That’s when I learnt about this place and its story. Let’s go in.”

They reached the cave entrance, parked the boat near a tree, and tied it to it. The two took out light crystals and started walking while marvelling at the interior, about five metres in height and four metres in width. It was mostly rocky, with many stalactites filling up the ceiling. They were all so shiny due to the erosion that the light reflected on them, making them glow.

“Do not expect a beautiful marvel, Sylvester. The tunnels under this mountain are consistently this big. I want to show you a spot in the middle of the labyrinth.” Sir Dolorem came clear with the expectations.

Sylvester was still amazed, however. “These tunnels can be a great place to hide in case of a civil war or something in the kingdom. So many people can hide her.”

“And starve.” Sir Dolorem said. “This mountain is blessed with a curse, Sylvester. Just a little more, we’re about to reach the place.”

‘He’s being way too cryptic about this today. What’s so special about this place? I feel no sense of the warmth of light. In fact, it’s depressing here.’

They two kept walking, taking turns. Sir Dolorem remembered the whole way it seemed, and they only made one wrong turn the entire time, which cost them a good few minutes. But, eventually, they arrived at the centre, in the middle of the mountain’s base.

Sylvester noticed something strange, however. They appeared to be in an open space that spanned dozens of metres in radius, and all that was supporting the mountain above was a single strangely formed stone pillar. The pillar didn’t seem too thick, so it was amazing how it held so much weight.

“What am I looking at?” Sylvester inquired.

Sir Dolorem, however, didn’t respond. Instead, he opened his bag and took out a few flower petals. Then he went to the bottom of the pillar and placed it there. Afterwards, he sat down on his knees, crossed his arms in a church salute and started praying.

‘He’s praying to a rock? Is this the holy thing?’ Sylvester was too confused.

But he was interested, so he walked forward and placed his palm on it.

Woosh!

Instantly, he was thrown back as if an invisible blast of air hit his body from the front. “Argh… what was that?”

“Haha. I went through the same thing the first time I came here.” Sir Dolorem helped him up and explained. “What you see is a naturally made coffin. The coffin of the 13th Pope, Carwyn Giltbert.”

“The Pope?” Sylvester, shocked and amazed, stared at it. “Why would they place a Pope’s body here?”

Sir Dolorem shook his head with a saddened expression. “There is a sad story behind it, Sylvester.”

“Isn’t that why you brought me here?”

“Then let’s sit down.” Sir Dolorem invited and started the story. “More than three thousand years ago, this region was one of the many counties of the Gracia Empire. Remember, after the tenth Pope, the church was in a stagnation phase where infighting and power struggles were above all.

“But, in that race to oppose each other, nobody had enough support when the 12th Pope died to become the next Pope. Hence, the neutral man, Pope Carwyn Gilbert, was chosen to preside over the highest chair. But, the Pope was also a user of the magical anomaly of green magic–the magic that lets one control plants.

“This ability is generally frowned upon in the faith for its closeness to the elves and their tree gods. But still, Pope Carwyn tried his best–he truly tried. But then came a rainstorm so intense that the rivers flowed thousands of times above their mark. The storm lasted for months and months.

“Amidst that, the Pope organised the rescue and relief work for the people, to the point where he also stepped in to help. But sadly, he was not among the strongest of the popes, being merely a mid-Grand Wizard.

“So, when he arrived in this region, he found it was entirely submerged, and the people were going to be swept away if he did nothing. So, they all ran into these caves underneath the mountain. A total of three hundred thousand people from all across the County and many nearby Counties took shelter here.

“The Pope was with the people and helped them in everything. From childbirth to cold, he healed everything. But tragedies often strike when you’re at your lowest. Similar was the case back then. A strong earthquake came and shook everything up. The entirety of the mountain started to crumble, and it would have fallen on the people if the Pope had not lifted the entire mountain on his back.”

‘I wonder how much pain he was in.’ Sylvester took a long breath of admiration. He could also imagine the next part of the story to some degree.

“The mighty, the strong… he was not the strongest, but his heart sure was. To protect the people, he kept the mountain on his shoulder for days upon days that turned into weeks. The rain didn’t stop and kept making the mountain heavier.

“But, upon the hopeful gazes of the people, the Pope could not bring himself to give up. So, for a month, he kept the mountain on his shoulder–for it was too big and trying to destroy it would kill the people.

“The people who saw his devotion cried tears day and night. They cleaned his face, fed him and sang hymns. He just remained here like a father protecting his kids–he did his duty better than most kings.

“But, a man always breaks, no matter how strong. So, by the time the rain stopped four months later, the Pope had gone into a semi-conscious state. The clergymen also came to help, but when they found the Pope, they realised he could not be saved, or the mountain would fall.”

Sir Dolorem stood up and walked to the pillar. “Here lies the 13th Pope, Carwyn Giltbert, the Unmovable. As per what the people he saved say… always in tears after witnessing his sacrifice. In time, the rocks took over his body and enshrined him in them. Some say the Pope still lives in there… but who knows.”

Sylvester glanced closely at the pillar. “So not all Popes in the past were insufferable know-it-alls.”

“Archpriest, there is a reason people still strongly believe in Solis… it’s because of Popes like the thirteenth. Although the church may have forgotten and erased the man due to his magic talent, he still lives in many hearts, even though these lands for decades after that were plagued with bad crops and disease–they remember him.”

“But for you, the lesson here is what happened after his death. Because his reign was the shortest in the history of Popes, merely five years, no new Pope was strong enough to rule properly after him. The infighting and power struggle remained until the 21st Pope, Atrox, the mad, purged the church clean.”

Sylvester silently walked closer to the rock. “A man hated by the faith but loved by the people. One who gave his life away for so many generations that exist today. You don’t wish for this to happen to me, right, Sir Dolorem?”

“Yes!”

Sylvester chuckled, a bit conflicted. “To be honest, I don’t know the answer if I was him. On one side, I truly wish to live… on the other, my life will come at the cost of three hundred thousand others. It’s a moral dilemma… one that can’t be answered unless I stand in the same shoes–but for now, even I don’t know what I’d choose.”

Sir Dolorem walked in front of Sylvester and glared into his golden eyes. “Bard of Solis, you are not meant to die no matter what hardships come. Your life is worth more than millions. You are the one to save us from the unholy wrath–I can not say it in words, but my soul tells me your light is the beacon to the one true path.”

“So what you want is–if an occasion arises–I should let a million people die to save my own life?”

“Not should. You must!”

“Even if the said life is my mother’s or yours?” 𝐞𝐨𝘃𝐞𝐥.

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APE TOGETHER STRONG!