I Became The Pope, Now What?

Something was happening in the dark, and there was no denying it. Someone was trying to exploit the poor pilgrims, and they were not just simple soldiers but ranked Bishops with power and pull.

Sylvester only had the words of Zeke to focus on, and he believed in Zeke wholeheartedly. But, others didn’t give the case much importance and merely brushed it off, considering Zeke mentally unstable.

Meanwhile, for the woman and the child who were victims, nobody was even bothering to look for them, as the Administration ignored Zeke’s statement.

‘This isn’t normal. A crime as heinous as such occurred in the Holy Land, and nobody is reacting? This makes no sense, considering how angry the Pope is these days. Someone is suppressing what’s going on here… Someone is trying to brush this incident aside as something insignificant.’ Sylvester thought to himself as he rested in his moving stagecoach.

But the fact someone was scared of something coming out of his investigation was enough proof for Sylvester to keep going and investigating. He aimed to turn the tides in his direction. He wanted to remove a majority of the decision-makers that held opposing thoughts towards him.

The logic was simple. Why should he stand behind when his enemies were playing the game of chess? They could have easily made him a Bishop and lived carefreely, but they decided to go after him. So now it was his time to retaliate.

“What are you thinking, Sylvester?”

Sylvester looked at the blonde girl sitting beside him. Isabella was coming with him to the Slave auction outside the Holy Land for the day. He was going to use her as his cover to save the kids from the slavers. Sure, he knew what he was doing was just a dent in the humongous pile of garbage that was slavery. But, he could at least have some mental peace in the fact that he did something when the sad faces of the innocent children appeared in front of him.

“Nothing. I was just thinking about how rotten things are. I told you about Zeke’s case, but I can’t help but think about the woman, and child Zeke talked about. I’m afraid… If someone is trying to hide the crime, then their chances of being alive are non-existent. I hope Elyon can use his primal hunting ability to find their bodies or ashes.” Sylvester replied, sharing things with her because he wanted her to be more loyal to him than the faith.

Isabella sighed and agreed with Sylvester. “I… I don’t even know what to think. Of course, I knew there were bad apples in the clergy outside. But, this is my first time knowing there are things like this within the Holy Land as well.”

“It’s worse inside the Holy Land.” Sylvester started. “Outside, it’s often very easy to know good and bad through actions. But here, each Clergyman has ten different faces, and we only see one of them the whole time.”

‘Hmm… The scent of disgust, doubt, and fear. Well, she’s feeling the same emotions that most of the commoners do when they get troubled by the church’s men. So go on, little princess, see the ugly that you unknowingly ignored in your castles.’

Sylvester didn’t share any more things with her and waited to arrive at the location. It was not a long journey, as he had already met with Baron Loveland to finish the land purchase deal. But, sadly, he was now too busy to get his portrait made by the man.

For now, he was more interested in finding out the address of the two Cardinals he had seen inside the court hall the day before. He wanted to infiltrate their homes and see if they had anything of ‘interest’.

“We’re here, Lord Bard.” The reinsman announced.

Sylvester quickly fixed his robes and helped Isabella do the same. She wore a heavy, expensive gown that only a noble could afford. It didn’t take much to make her appear like a princess, as her mannerisms and beauty were impeccable.

“Your highness.” Sylvester acted formally with her and gave her his hand.

She blushed and followed him to the venue. It was a medium-sized, double-mast ship on the riverside, docked there. A staircase was set that descended from the Ship’s deck onto a small wooden stage set on the shore.

On the stage, a fat, rotten-toothed man shouted at the crowd of three dozen buyers. But no auction was being done at the moment as Sylvester had ordered them a day earlier.

So, acting like a typical aristocrat, Sylvester led Isabella onboard the Ship. But, of course, he was not dumb enough to come alone. He had brought a unit of inquisitors as well, the men most loyal to him. They were supposed to wait outside.

“Y-Your highness, and holy Clergyman. I’m honoured to be in your presence.” The nasty-looking man greeted them. He was likely the Ship’s captain and the primary overseer of the current consignment of slaves.

Sylvester took the helm. “Where is the merchandise?”

“Yes, yes… Please come with me. We keep them on the first level below the deck.”

Sylvester followed him down the deck and arrived to see the abomination the humans could inflict on their own species. There were at least two dozen jail cells. A single one of them was used to keep all the kids tightly cramped inside. At the same time, the rest were held according to slave grades.

“Your highness, please select whoever you want to buy.” The man spoke.

Sylvester felt Isabella was mentally disturbed after seeing the condition. It was all wet, and the clothes of slaves were dirty, torn and sometimes even missing.

“Why are these few slaves so clean?” She asked after reaching the two cells harbouring men and women, graded A.

Sylvester answered. “These women are the prettiest, hence the sex slaves. These men are the strongest, hence prime merchandise.”

Isabella reeked of disgust. Her worldview was shattering further as she saw the reality of the world. She was fed lies all her life in her impenetrable castle walls.

“A-And the kids… Why are they kept like that? They are sitting in their own urine and faeces?” She questioned.

The kids in question didn’t even seem alive. They were just silently watching everything with their big hopeless open eyes. They made no sound, not even a cough. Of course, they had been beaten and forced into such submission to appear—good merchandise.

This time, the slave owner spoke. “These kids are useless. They don’t fetch us a good price. Even selling them is hard.”

Sniff!

Just then, a small faint cry resounded from the women’s cell, graded as B. Following the snivelling came a small cry. “M-My baby… He’s just five. Please spare him… Let him go. I-I will do anything you want for the rest of my life.”

Bam!

The slave owner slammed his hand on the jail cell. “Shut up, Wench! It wasn’t I who borrowed more than I could repay. Now shut your mouth, or I will chop that tongue. You’ll be an E-grade whore then.”

Sylvester, meanwhile, was looking at the various slaves when he saw the woman crying for her child. He decided to keep her, as he could always use the child as leverage for complete loyalty.

“I’ll take this woman and her child.” He requested.

The slave owner rubbed his hands and tried offering a better deal. “Ah… Sure, respected Clergyman. But what about these A-grade women? I assure you, they have been trained in the finest whorehouses before being brought for sale. For you, I will give them for half-price—both of them.”

Sylvester sneered and walked to the men’s section. “No need, I’m not looking for any bed slaves. I need respectable people who can work for me in the respectful occupation of running an eatery.”

Sylvester tried to look for more slaves in the kid’s cell. He noticed there was a fourteen-year-old girl in the ranks, the oldest of the lot from the looks of it. ‘Young minds are easy to mould to be loyal.’

“I’ll take that girl as well. No need to be scared, young one. Just think of me as an elder brother now. As for the rest of the children, Princess Isabella wishes to purchase them all.” Sylvester announced.

Instantly, all the little ones looked up, showing a change of expression for the first time. And Sylvester smelled a strong scent of hope.

The slave owner was as happy as he could be. “That’s brilliant! I won’t have to worry about these little useless things anymore. Please take them for a hundred Gold Graces each.”

Isabella walked over to the jail cell of the kids and softly spoke to them. “Don’t worry, dears. I will make sure you find your home, and if you have none, then I will make sure you reach a good orphanage.”

“Please! Take him too!” All of a sudden, a woman cried from a Grade D cell.

Sylvester looked and noticed something that turned his heart colder. The woman who pleaded had a little baby in her arms, draped in dirty cloth. The baby was likely no older than six months.

Sylvester pointed at her. “I’m buying her as well.”

The slave owner was just rubbing his hands in silence as he felt his pockets getting heavier. He did not hide his ugly grin from anyone. The truth was, like any Slaveowner, he had kept the price of his goods inflated by a lot. This was because people often haggled. But now, without going through any haggling, he was able to sell them. It was a big win for him.

Paaa!

Thud!

Thud!

“What in the…” The slave owner cursed as suddenly the loud sound of a horn and drums came from outside.

Bam!

A sailor barged in. “Captain! R-Raiders! Raiders are here!”

“Good lord! Why now? My princess and respected Clergyman, all the slaves you selected will reach you tomorrow. Please get off the Ship; I must move quickly..”

However, Sylvester slowly walked towards the man. His right fist suddenly showed a short blade made of solid light. “I don’t think I will.”

“What… Ghk!… Why~”

Thud!

The ugly sack of human meat fell on the wooden deck, dead with his throat slit open.

Woosh!

Sylvester then threw a small spear made of light at the sailor who had come and killed him too. Meanwhile, Isabella had begun to open all the cells, while the slaves appeared confused.

Sylvester stayed alert, though. He did not trust these slaves either. “Be at ease, and none of you shall be harmed. I am Lord’s Bard, Sylvester Maxmilian, the God’s Favoured. Once I take off your collars, you may go wherever you want, as I do not wish for you to die at the raider’s hands.”

Clank!

He could hear the clanking swords and shouts above on the deck already and had to work fast and ensure the slaves obeyed his command to ensure their survival.

The best solution for that was a hymn with a halo. A proof that he was the apostle of god and his promises were not shallow.

Cry if you want, as your misery ends.

Grab the strength that my voice lends.

Hold the hand that freedom extends.

This is fate—Mortal minds it transcends.?

So let your hearts be at ease.

Feel the soothing holy breeze.

For you stand before the holy bard.

Hear me; I sing sermon of the lord!?

“G-God?!”

“Bless us!”

“The Sage!”

“Solis?”

The reactions varied, but they meant the same. Without knowing, they chanted Sylvester’s many unofficial names.

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