I Became The Pope, Now What?

Sylvester tried to ignore the eighth guardian and spoke with the Pope. “Your Holiness, as you may have learnt from the initial report, the Sixth Guardian was martyred in a battle against the Shadow Knight. But his pet, a Mythril Snake named Ashra, is still alive. She’s the last of her species, intelligent enough to understand humans and friendly. I wish for her to be allowed to live in the Soul Peninsula as the Soul Tree’s protector.”

The Pope instantly agreed and started writing something on paper. “Of course. I know about Ashra. Winter Ghost told me about her the last time when he was here. You did well bringing the snake here. I will send the best gentle beast tamer to guide her to the Soul Peninsula.”

“No need, your holiness. I will guide her there myself. She’s quite shaken up by the death of her parent figure. But I also have something else to talk about.” Sylvester signalled that he needed to speak alone.

The Pope glanced at Faithwalker, the Eighth Guardian and sent him away without saying anything. Following him, Lady Aurora and Sir Dolorem also left. After that, the Pope poured Sylvester a glass of water and pushed him onto a seat.

“Be at ease, young Bard. You are at home now, and I don’t mind informality at the moment.” The Pope said as he took his seat. He was all smiles and appeared happier than ever.

Sylvester noticed it and decided to change his tactics a little. ‘Clearing and rectifying the menace in the northern mountains appears to have brought pleasure to him. Perhaps bringing him some more guilt will do well.’

“Your Holiness, Winter Ghost tried to kill me once we were done with our battle. His words were precise, and he proclaimed his loyalty to someone else in the church, someone high in the ranks.” Sylvester dropped the biggest earth-shattering bomb.

The smile vanished from the Pope’s face as he looked into Sylvester’s eyes to discern if he was telling the truth. But, sadly for him, even if Sylvester was lying, there was no way his facial expressions would reveal anything.

“So he was one of them too. Their thirst for power and authority is only increasing with time. I have many years of life ahead of me, yet they have already begun to extend their sharp talons far and wide, leaving no corner untouched. This is an intolerable state of affairs, yet to vanquish them would entail the destruction of the very bastion that protects us and, in so doing, render us weakened and vulnerable to the vile forces that seek to snuff out our light.” The Pope said emotionlessly, although his face showed great pain.

‘It’s working.’ Sylvester smelled the disappointment.

“Your Holiness, I wonder if my achievements will again fall on deaf ears?”

The Pope shook his head immediately. “Not this time, young Bard. The last time I was in grief about losing the old man. But now, I shall not falter. They must heed the truth or face my wrath. Son, let not the shadows of despair cloud your faith in Solis, for I, too, have battled with the darkness that sought to undermine the very foundations. Believe in yourself and your comrades, and I am confident you shall triumph over all obstacles that lie before you.”

“But, your holiness, what of the many evils our ranks commit outside? I… I had a vision… A Bishop of the faith sold a human girl child to the Desert Cannibals — It’s hard to tolerate sometimes.” Sylvester made a conflicted face as if he was struggling with the status quo of the church.

The Pope walked over to Sylvester and placed a hand on Sylvester’s armoured shoulder. “Don’t! Never tolerate evil, son! You are the Bard, and you have the power to judge! But worry not; I have something in mind for your next task to help you become a fantastic punisher.

“But, the present state of affairs is dire; regrettably, I can offer no solution. The church, vast and far-reaching as it is, cannot be easily kept in check. With no swift means of communication, we often go years without a word from far-flung monasteries, only to later hear of the atrocities committed by the faithless brethren dwelling within. Yet, we are the necessary buffer, the essential mediator. In the past few years, you have given justice to many vile nobles, but would anyone have halted their misdeeds had the church, you, not stood up? Would the cries of the oppressed have ever been heard? We are the vital safeguards, but make no mistake, we, too, have our share of venomous serpents slithering within our ranks.”

Sylvester felt satisfied with the answer and proposed something that could help him in the long run. Something that could ensure that no clergyman attains too much power while sitting in one location for the rest of his life, and become richer than the nobles of that region, or worse, collude with nobles to do evil.

“Your holiness, why not implement a time-based compulsory transfer system for all Non-Holy Land clergymen?” Sylvester suggested. “This way, you can ensure that the clergymen don’t become too corrupt and powerful while living like kings in one monastery for their entire life. At the same time, the feedback of the people they served will determine future promotions.”

“You mean, transfer all clergymen to other locations periodically? That would require quite a lot of work to be done by the administration department. The number of clergymen out there is in the millions.” Pope said while considering the feasibility of the proposal.

‘Come on, just agree. As long as these clergymen don’t get to attain power and wealth, they will have nothing to offer to my enemies. Making them easier for me to entice.’

“It’s doable with the proper management department. All they need to do is maintain registers with all clergymen’s names, ranks, locations and titles on each register with the year they should be transferred. Then, when the year comes, you take those registers and move them to a different cabinet that denotes a new location. The plan offers more to gain than lose, but ultimately, it’s up to you and Saint Wazir, your holiness.” Sylvester suggested.

After his words, there was silence in the room. The Pope rubbed his beard as he retook his seat and thought about the proposal in depth. If he went with it, it would be a significant structural change. But, on the other hand, there were more advantages and fewer things to lose.

“I will think about this in-depth with Saint Wazir, young Bard. I thank you for the suggestion, and I also thank you for your service. You have no work to do for the next few months, so you may go to get your wounds dressed and take some well-deserving rest.” The Pope ended the discussion.

Sylvester stood up and saluted. “Understood, your holiness. I will submit the detailed report in a few days. May the Holy Light enlighten us.”

Sylvester turned around and walked slowly, with a slumped shoulder, as if tired or injured.

‘Good… I smell the sadness.’

Bam!

As the Pope’s office door closed, the Pope looked at the sofa near the entrance, away from the table. “What do you think? Did he lie?”

“No.”

As the new voice came, a form of a white robbed human came into existence from invisibility: the masked face, hooded head with golden embroidery and the long sceptre in one hand. The man was an enigma to all, and no one dared offend him.

“The bard did not lie, Axel.”

The Pope rubbed his chin and tiredly slouched on his table. “So he was able to recruit even the sixth guardian. What do you think about his transfer idea?”

“It may work to reduce all the evil that resides within.”

“If you think so, then I will speak with Wazir. You may keep an eye on ‘him’, Saint Scepter.” The Pope ordered.

With that, the white robbed man stood up and left by phasing through the wall instead of opening the door.

…

Outside, Sylvester bid his farewell to Sir Dolorem and took Lady Aurora to take Ashra, the giant snake, to the Soul Peninsula.

“Where is she?” Aurora asked.

“I told her to wait for us near Bard’s food house outside the Holy Land. She likely dug herself inside the ground there and hid.”

“Lord Bard! Lord Bard!” A call came from behind suddenly.

Sylvester stopped mounting his horse and looked back at a Knight coming on a galloping horse.

“Lord Bard… Y-You are needed at the Bard’s… Urgently!”

Sylvester’s brows furrowed. “What? Did a giant snake attack?”

“No, Lord Bard… It’s something else… The workers at Bard’s are crying and are out of food… A big angry crowd has gathered around there now.”

‘Out of food? How can they run out? The inventory is supposed to last a week at once, and it’s just the first day of the week.’

“Understood. We shall head to there quickly.” Sylvester got on Frost and rushed fast with Lady Aurora, all the while wondering what the hell even happened.

…

At the Bard’s, five hours ago.

A noble decorated carriage stopped in front of the already crowded building. From the carriage came out three people. A man, six foot five, with white hair and tanned skin. He was not old, had brown eyes, and a short but dense beard. The face was as handsome as a man could be with a muscular body of a warrior.

Then there was a woman of unmatched beauty and grace, but there was an everpresent sharpness in her eyes, akin to a battle-hardened warrior. She had ashen blonde hair, blue eyes, and fair skin while being as tall as six feet.

In the woman’s arms was a little baby, possibly a few months old, tucked in a soft blanket.

The couple wore modest clothes, but from their demeanour, all could determine they were nobles. Moreover, as the nobles had a reserved place on the first floor to sit, they did not have to wait to enter the famed shop.

“Bwahaha… So this is Lord Bard’s shop.” The man bellowed with his voice, oozing power and might.

The woman sighed and rubbed her face. “Please don’t be so loud, dear. This is embarrassing. This is why I don’t travel with you anymore.”

The man chuckled and held the woman’s hand while leading her to a comfortable, cushioned seat beside the balcony on the first floor. “Just be free, my love. Like we used to be when young, wild and happy, for the people will never stop talking — which I call barking. We now have a little boy, and we must show him the true joy of life.”

The woman relented and gave a heart-stopping graceful smile. “Alright, let’s have fun then. Don’t mind me if I look ugly.”

“You never look ugly, my dear wife!” the man took his seat and ordered. “Now! Bring me one plate of everything you have, young ones! The Bard should be on his way, so I shall taste his creations in the meantime.”

A few minutes passed.

“This is delicious! Bring me all of this again!” .

“Again!”

“More!”

“Bring me all you have!”

“…”

[A/N: Guess the character.]

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