I Became The Pope, Now What?

Sylvester’s voice boomed across the hall, making everyone turn their heads to him. He got the exact reaction he was expecting. The look of disbelief and shock as an eighteen-year-old becoming an Archbishop was unheard of. On top of that, many of the Bright Mothers there had seen him grow from a baby, so the news hit them like a cargo carriage.

“What?! When?” Great Mother Grace asked in amazement, losing her usual serious aura for a split second.

“This morning, I was called by the council, and they voted on it.” He revealed cheekily and looked around to find someone.

“Mum!” He saw Xavia standing in shock at the back. “Come here.”

He also rushed to her and stopped in front. He looked at her pride-filled eyes as she struggled to say something to him.

“May the Holy Light enlighten us.” He saluted her with crossed arms on his chest.

Xavia did the same quickly. “Ah… Yes, your grace!” She used the official title used to address Archbishops.

Sylvester chuckled and gave her a firm hug. He was truly happy since the promotion was a sign that his hard work was paying off. To become the Pope as quickly as possible, he first needed to climb all the stairs.

“Stop with that. I’m still just Sylvester for you,” Sylvester said, releasing her from the hug. “How is it? Now you can brag about me even more.”

She blushed and punched his chest softly. “I never did that, Max. Everyone already knows you and feels pride.”

“Ehm… Your grace.”

Sylvester looked back with a big wide grin. “Ah, Archpriest Felix, you came in time. You too, Archpriest Gabriel. I have decided to hire you as assistants now since I’m allowed to keep two.”

“…”

“Like hell! I want to become a Bishop too, man.” Felix barked and grabbed Sylvester’s neck under his elbow. “You think you’re a big shot now? You want me to tell everyone the story of the time you…”

Sylvester put his palm on Felix’s mouth while shaking his head. “Let there be peace, young one. Pulling one another down does good for none.”

Felix nodded and stepped back. “Understood, Archbishop. Congratulations, by the way. Your promotion was long due. No matter how much it burns me, I feel proud.”

“Same here, Archbishop.” Gabriel started. “Now I can leech off your authority and get things done for myself faster.”

“…”

Sylvester chuckled after hearing the two. He was happy that nothing had changed with his promotion. ．

“What about me? Did you forget your big sister? Come here and give me a hug.” Aurora appeared behind Sylvester like a gust of wind and patted his head. She was still in her armour, as she was an Inquisitor.

Sylvester was very thankful to the woman for her continuous help over the past many months. So he shared a brotherly hug for a split second and whispered in her ear. “Thank you, Aurora. Whatever you did, it worked. Isabella now sees Felix as a romantic interest, not me.”

“What?!” She exclaimed. “But I did nothing!”

She looked at Felix and grabbed his shoulder. “What did you do to Isabella? How did she get attracted to a goofball like you.”

Felix smirked. “Well, I’m quite handsome, and since I can make her laugh, I had to win eventually.”

Sylvester looked at him in pity. “But she’s currently angry at you, and you probably don’t even know. So go and speak with her. Try to spend as much time with her as possible.”

Sylvester knew he had to get the two together for the greater good. Felix was loyal to him, although it was unclear if his loyalty went as absolute as Sir Dolorem, but it was still next to none. So, having Isabella under Felix’s influence was akin to indirectly brainwashing her.

But what worried Sylvester the most was Gabriel. Although the whole case of King Riveria and Romel had been wholly buried now, it didn’t change the fact that there were likely some doubts and fears in Gabriel’s heart.

‘I must keep him close forever and ensure he stands on the same footing as me.’

“What?! She’s angry?” Felix exclaimed and looked all around to find Isabella. “There she is… I’ll be back, Max.”

They watched as Felix rushed to Isabella and started talking very articulately, using his hands. Even Aurora cringed at that, as she never seriously thought about love and romance.

“Is he going to leave the clergy now?” Gabriel wondered.

“If something does come out of their relationship, then yes. But he will only lose the clergy rank and gain a military rank. Come now, let’s eat something.” Sylvester decided to enjoy the evening for now.

There were too many Bright Mothers, and Sylvester met and spoke with all those who wished to. He heard their problems and complaints and assured them he’d solve them. The Bright Mothers don’t really face many big issues, and their problems were usually related to some clergyman harassing them, their workplace being bad, or their own health problems.

Of course, the clergymen who harass Bright Mothers face the holy union of their throats and the blade of a sword, while other issues get slowly solved by Great Mother Grace. Thankfully, ever since Sylvester had given the business of undergarments to the Bright Mothers, they had enough money to not worry about buying resources.

But it was still not enough, as there were millions of Bright Mothers out there, far in the west and south on the other continents too. So, there was a need for much more money, which Sylvester wished to fulfil.

So he went to speak with Great Mother Grace, who was drinking some beverages with Queen Trinity Highland, who had just arrived.

“Great Mother, let’s talk business.” Sylvester started with an unusual choice of words. Nor did he take the older woman to the side and let Queen Trinity hear him, all according to his plan.

The head of Bright Mother and one of the great five heroes of the thousand-year war, Great Mother Grace, looked at him interestedly. “How may I be of help, Archbishop?”

“Oh, come on, Great Mother. Just call me Sylvester like always. I’ve played on your lap as a baby before.” Sylvester talked frankly and eased the mood.

Great Mother, however, kept the same old serious expression, although the smells told Sylvester how happy she was.

“Of course, Sylvester. How can I forget the time you wet my robes on my lap.”

“…”

“I was merely one-year-old back then and had drunk too much water.” Sylvester clarified and quickly changed the topic. “I was wondering if Bright Mothers wish to produce more new goods related to personal care and garments that can bring in more funds.”

‘Hah! Got you, you old witch! I smell the hope and excitement clear as Chonky’s silent farts.’

“What is it that you made now?” Great mother inquired curiously.

“For starters, this thing.” Sylvester took out a small leather pouch from his pocket, but different from the norm; this one had a zipper. “See this way of closing the pouch? We can use this on coats, boots, and so much more. This can revolutionise the way we wear clothes.”

“Interesting.”

‘Try all you want. I smell everything.’ Sylvester thanked god in silence that he could smell emotions. His ability had made his life much easier.

After that, Sylvester raised his robes a little and showed off his boots. “See these? These are new boots I made with certain new methods. They are far more comfortable to wear, and I hope they can help Bright Mothers as you all stand and walk for long durations.”

Great Mother Grace noticed the zipper used on the boots and nodded her head. She didn’t say much, as the boots could only be evaluated after personal use. So she just asked, “What else?”

“Well, I have made something to help everyone maintain their teeth. It’s called a Toothbrush and Toothpaste. Here, try them later in the morning and before you sleep. Your majesty, you take a pair as well.” Sylvester handed them small bottles and brushes.

“Other than this, the sewing machine production will soon start, so you will have that for sewing. I’m also introducing a measuring tape for ease of work. All this combined is bound to increase the profits of the Bright Mothers manifolds.” Sylvester ended his short pitch meeting.

Great Mother Grace bobbed her head in agreement. Undoubtedly, undergarments were already hot commodities for even lowborn women because working in the fields became much easier with a bra. So, these new products were bound to be a success.

“I will discuss it with the managing committee later and show the products. Do you wish to speak with them?” She inquired.

Sylvester shrugged and stepped back. “Making money is more important for you than me, so I will leave it to you. I don’t care as long as I get my dividends on time. Now, I must see other guests. Have a good night.”

Leaving Great Mother in a mental storm and the Highland Queen in amusement, Sylvester finally saw Bishop Lazark arrive. The man was always serious, but Sylvester tried to break that introverted shell all the time.

So, with a head held high, chin raised in pride, he met the man. “Bishop, it appears I outrank you now.”

Bishop Lazark showed a rare smile and bowed his head. “It’s an honour to be working with you, Archbishop. I was confused before, but now I’m confident that my decision to follow you was right.”

“I feel the same, your grace.” Priest Elyon, the only beastkin clergyman in the Holy Land, interjected. “You showed me the way when I could not see a path ahead.”

‘These two… My hard work has finally paid off.’

Clank!

Sir Dolorem approached Sylvester with haste, his armour clanging with each step he took. He lowered himself before the young Archbishop, holding out his sword before him. “My Lord,” he said, his voice deep and respectful. “Once more, you have shown me your valour and skill. I have never doubted your abilities, but even still, you have surpassed my every expectation. Congratulations on your well-deserved promotion, and know that I will continue to stand by your side as your unwavering aide.”

Sylvester hurriedly pulled Sir Dolorem up to make him stand. The fanatic but loyal inquisitor was someone Sylvester cherished a lot. Not to mention, the man with a blindfold kneeling diminished how hard-core he looked.

“I trust you, Sir Dolorem. I trust all of you and know I can count on you when in need.” Sylvester reciprocated the trust, albeit with some reservations in his heart. As, of course, he didn’t trust them all.

‘I think it’s time to make the final move.’ Sylvester thought and looked around.

“Gabriel, can you do something?” Sylvester suddenly called his friend, who stood nearby and spoke with his sister.

“Sure, what is it?”

Sylvester took out a stack of thin envelopes, at least two hundred, from his small shoulder bag. “When you return home, I need you to drop these at the Running Men postal service. The office is beside your house.”

“Sure, but who are they for? This many…” Gabriel inquired, as did all others with curious eyes.

In reply, a slight sly smirk left Sylvester’s mouth. “Nothing much, but just an invitation for all the major bards around the Sol. They are invited to the new festival I shall organise at the Bard’s… It will be called — Week of the Bards.”

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