I Became The Pope, Now What?

“Sir Dolorem?”

Sylvester’s jaw fell as the tall man was supposed to be resting on the bed in the Holy Land. It had been about two months, and that was not enough time to learn anything, let alone be on a battlefield.

“Lord Bard,” Sir Dolorem’s calm voice rang in Sylvester’s ears.

“…”

“How? How are you here? And why are you here? Please move out of the way. That man can kil—”

It suddenly struck Sylvester. Sir Dolorem shouldn’t be able to stand in front of Sir Maximus’ attack for even a minute, let alone block it and appear so comfortable. Not to mention, Sir Dolorem didn’t appear strained at all and instead faced him calmly.

“I shall explain everything later, Lord Bard. Let’s move first and allow him to actually help you.” Sir Dolorem walked closer to Sylvester and helped him up to his feet by letting his shoulder be the support. Then he walked closer to Lady Aurora, picked her unconscious body over his other shoulder, and moved away.

Sylvester looked back to see who had actually come to help. But to his dismay, he didn’t recognise this person. However, something told him that the man was not simple, absolutely not with that kind of bloodied attire.

The man appeared at least seven feet tall, lean, solid build. He wore purple clothes under his minimalistic silver armour covering only his shins, chest, and shoulders. The most eye-catching thing about him was his headgear, which consisted of a long, silver, conical helmet with a metallic expressionless face mask which covered everything till his shoulder and lower neck. In addition, there was some barbed, long spikey wire tied around the forehead that also went up.

Then there was a sword, longer than what any ordinary man would use. Its hilt was also covered with metal spikes, going until the middle of the blade. All of it was silver and, for some reason, completely covered in blood.

However, more striking was that on the man’s visor, the eyes were constantly bleeding, as if the man was crying blood.

[A/N: See him here]

“Who is he, Sir Dolorem?” Sylvester asked curiously while he also groaned in pain.

“That’s Magnus Constantine, famously known as Bloodrain, the Second Guardian of Light, the fourth strongest being in the church’s arsenal, and he’s also blind like me. Don’t worry; he will sort out the Gracia Grand Wizard.” Sir Dolorem explained and dragged Sylvester and Lady Aurora as far away as possible.

‘That’s so relaxing to know. Finally, some good help.’ Sylvester took a sigh of relief.

He then kept looking at Sir Dolorem. “You look… different. How did you become more muscular, and… how are you seeing?”

“I can’t see, Lord Bard, and yet now I see more than I used to. I will explain later. Let’s bring you to safety first.” Sir Dolorem decided to stay mysterious for a while.

So Sylvester focused on the stalemate behind him. The Bloodrain had easily stopped Sir Maximus with a swing of his swords. The tall holy Guardian of Light’s eyes wept with blood as a pain-filled voice echoed.

“Why must you tarnish the sacred soil? Why must you anger me—make my blood boil?”

“Don’t meddle in this, whor–” Sir Maximus couldn’t finish speaking.

Poof! .

Sir Maximus’ left arm entirely blew apart as it exploded from inside into little pieces. The cloud of blood also appeared so thin that it seemed like mist. But Lord Second had not even moved an inch.

“Aaaargh!” Sir Maximus cried in pain as the incident registered in his mind.

Sylvester, who was watching it all, stopped moving with Sir Dolorem. “W-What?! How did he do that? Is the gap between the different levels of the Grand Wizards so high?”

Sir Dolorem also looked. “Lord Second is proficient in a rare and extremely dangerous branch of magic called Blood Magic. It falls in the dark magic category, but the way he uses it, it’s purely destructive. He merely boiled the blood in the arm of the Gracia’s Grand Wizard.”

Sylvester just eyed the strange, powerful man with conflicted feelings. ‘W-Why do I feel so much… pain, sorrow and anger from him. It’s all constant.’

Thud!

While Sylvester was busy thinking, Sir Maximus lost his other arm, too, as he tried to attack Lord Second. The Gracia’s Grand Wizard then just fell to his knees and looked like his grand-nephew—armless.

It sure was a strange day for the Gracia family as in a single day, two important family members lost their arms in combat. Both to members of the faith.

“For meddling in the work of the faith, I am obliged to arrest you. If it were for me, I’d have recovered the price of harming the holy law from your blood. But I must take respite in seeing your family name dragged into the mud.” Bloodrain, Lord Second, dragged the old Grand Wizard of Gracia by the hair and walked towards Sir Dolorem.

“Aaargh! Take your hands off me! You mongrels of the church! It’s because of you that the Gracia Empire fell!”

But Lord Second didn’t respond and arrived near Sir Dolorem. The tall, mighty man raised his free hand towards Sylvester and did something invisible to the eyes.

Sylvester felt something and noticed his wounded shoulders, which had such deep wounds that even the bones were visible, were now getting healed quickly. The muscles returned, the blood vessels returned, and then the skin. In a matter of seconds, Sylvester felt healed.

Bloodrain then patted Sylvester’s shoulder while tears of blood slid from his eye socket in the visor. “Bard of the Lord, today we ultimately meet. I am proud that until the end, you didn’t accept the defeat. Instead, you held your ground against this heathen noble.”

Sylvester stood straight, leaving Sir Dolorem’s hold as he didn’t feel injured anymore. But he showed his due respect to the inspiring man. Not to mention, he went a little extra, wishing to leave an impression in the latter’s mind.

So Sylvester saluted, with both arms crossed on his chest. He bowed his head a little and spoke a little hymn.

I can see you are blessed by God.

Your words mean much to me, my lord.

This bard thanks you for raising your sword.

But I hope the crimes of heathens won’t be ignored.?

Sylvester had already made a few guesses about what kind of man Bloodrain was. From the emotions of constant anger, pain and sorrow, he knew that this man was similar to Inquisitor High Lord—highly religious, righteous and straightforward.

So, he also took a hardliner approach to impress the man. Which almost certainly seemed to work as he smelled a hint of tulips from the man, signifying that worship had been induced.

‘God, I love my halo so much. It’s the best thing to ever happen to me.’ Sylvester felt satisfied in his heart.

Bloodrain nodded and raised his arm again. This time he didn’t touch it, but merely hovered it over Sylvester’s shoulder. “I went blind because the world has so much sin—But now I’m am graced to see what others can not. Yet more than me, it’s you who is blessed, bard of Solis. Followers as loyal as Sir Dolorem, and spirits so small—they flocked to you. So I shall pray that one day—you may swing your heavenly scythe and clean this world of its filth.”

Sylvester felt his heart skip a beat. ‘D-Did he just sense Chonky on my shoulder… Wait! He healed Chonky’s face as well!’

Sylvester looked at the sleeping and tired cat on his shoulder. The poor boy used his everything in the end to help and protect him. It must have hurt a lot, but the furry boy never wavered.

‘Can Sir Dolorem also sense Chonky?’ Sylvester wondered. But he didn’t worry about that as the man already knew about Miraj and considered him a guardian angel. And it was fine with Bloodrain as well, as the man considered Miraj a spirit.

‘As long as they don’t know about Miraj’s abilities, it should be alright.’

He thanked. “I am indebted to your help, my lord. But I beg you to heal Lady Aurora as well, for she fought this heathen alone.”

Of course, Bloodrain didn’t deny as Lady Aurora was already his colleague and a fellow Guardian of Light. But the man did make an observation. “The young one has grown so tall and mighty. Crimson Fire must be proud of the daughter he raised—she deserves nothing but to be praised.”

Sylvester saw Aurora’s wounds heal back, one layer at a time. It was nothing less than a miracle but also understandable. If anything, he expected a Blood magic user to be able to do such.

But she didn’t wake up as only her flesh wounds were healed, not her Solarium reserves. As for Sylvester, he had by now realised his body was different from other wizards. Somehow, he never ran out of Solarium to the point he’d die—but his body does become thin and paler the more he spends it beyond his natural reserves.

‘I need to look into this too, it seems. But first, my leg.’ He wondered if Bloodrain could heal him.

But, on another thought, he refused to ask the man, knowing that the latter was a fanatic believer, and if he found out about his half-blood ancestry, then he’d be the biggest heathen, not the Gracia family.

“Thank you, my lord.” Sylvester bowed his head, took Lady Aurora in his arms, and carried her.

“Proceed with your work. I shall bring this man back to the Holy Land for the judgement.” Bloodrain replied and dragged the armless Grand Wizard along.

Sylvester and Sir Dolorem waited until the man disappeared from the vicinity. How the Bloodrain travelled so fast, they didn’t know, but it certainly wasn’t flying. Moreover, the man was an enigma to Sylvester, from his personality and scents.

Now alone, Sir Dolorem faced Sylvester with a kind smile on his face as they proceeded to pick up the unconscious body of Duke Daemon. “So much has happened, it seems, Sylvester.”

Sylvester smiled and wanted to hug his favourite follower. “Indeed—We have so much to talk about. But first, please tell me how you’re doing all this. How are you navigating?”

“It’s a long story.”

Sylvester shrugged. “I see no carriage coming to take us.”

Sir Dolorem sighed as he started. “It happened when I tried to train in that echolocation you spoke about and kidnapped a child to run from the Sick Bay.”

“…”

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APE TOGETHER STRONG!