I Became The Pope, Now What?

Sylvester’s announcement didn’t go unquestioned, as the world was not made of stupid men. The bards were not fools and knew that Sylvester would likely be making the books something akin to a tool for reporting to the masses about what was happening around Sol. That would mean it will become quite popular since it’s human nature to thirst for information and gossip.

Hence, the richest of the Bards smelled a lot of money coming to Sylvester and not flowing down to them. Money reigns supreme, no matter how great Sylvester may be. Praying to him could not feed or ornate their bodies with the finest silk.

But as the Pope was there, all the voices of ‘suggestions’ and acceptance remained silent. The feast went on as usual, and the Pope ate right there alongside Sylvester.

“I see greed in the eyes of some.” The Pope whispered as Sylvester sat around the reserved bonfire for the clergy. “You will need my help.”

Sylvester smiled as he sensed something from the Pope. ‘Ah, I smell admiration but, at the same time, jealousy. Is he jealous because he didn’t think of this plan before?’

Sylvester wished to keep his plans a secret. There was no way he could keep his strategy of using the bards as a secret in any case, so it was better to feed chunks while withholding the real fruit.

“I have limited money, so I can certainly not make all of them happy, no matter how much I wish to. This means I will have to make do with what I have and think about them once I have everything set up,” Sylvester replied.

The Pope glanced at some of the fattest bards, who were most likely rich due to their services to some nobles or, perhaps, doing certain things for the rich. “Ignorance is truly bliss. They laugh, yet have no idea what they are ready to miss.”

“A man who remains hungry even with limitless food can never free oneself from his mental prison, for his hunger has him subdued,” Sylvester answered.

The pope chuckled as he poured himself some good old Sunshine nectar from a tiny secret bottle. “So wait until only bones are left since that’s when their greed shall be at the peak, and then, for even a drop of water, they’d merrily speak.”

Sylvester also poured a tiny drink of sunshine nectar from his own secret little bottle, prompting the Pope to go into a momentous shock followed by bellowing laughter.

Clank!

Both clinked their glasses and downed the ‘juice’ in one go.

“Ah, the food is fine, young bard! If I had known your Bard’s shop has such marvellous dishes, I’d have allotted land inside the Holy Land itself for it.”

Sylvester smirked and repeated the old Pope’s words. “When their greed is at peak, they merely speak — Absolutely correct, whoever said it.”

“…”

“Haha, got a sharp tongue, don’t you? I like it. You need a sharp tongue and mind to tackle politics inside the Holy Land, which is now Holy in name only, sadly.” The Pope patted Sylvester’s shoulder and stood up.

“There is still so much work left to do, so I must return. Have a good time with these bards, young bard. But remember to report to me at my office by this week’s end. I shall have your next assignment ready.”

Sylvester’s brows rose up. “Which is?”

“As you requested, I’m sending you to the south but with a special task and designation. One that shall prepare you for… the inevitable.” The Pope waved at his subordinates and walked back to his horse.

Only Lady Aurora remained behind since she was a part of Sylvester’s inner group. Though, her interest was in something else as she whispered. “That was the nectar, wasn’t it? Give me a little shot too. I want to feel lightheaded.”

Sylvester obliged. “You have too much faith in me, Aurora. To knowingly get drunk while you sit in the middle of so many men.”

She downed the glass while smirking seductively, or at least attempting to do so, as she failed miserably due to her smile looking more like a creepy, sadistic grin. “Why, my dear brother? Won’t you protect this maiden?”

Sylvester, deadpan, sighed. “Knowing this maiden, I’m worried for their lives, not yours.”

“…”

“Ugh… You’re such an old man, destroying my playful mood.”

“It’s called a reality check,” Sylvester blurted.

She scoffed and returned to eating a nice slice of pizza from Bard’s shop. “Anyway, are you prepared for our week-long Duel Cultivation training? Since Winter Ghost died, the seventh position for a Guardian is empty. So I’m aiming for a promotion again, even though it will take time.”

‘I wonder what Healer Hendrix discovered from the blood samples of Winter Ghost I stole.’ Sylvester’s mind dozed off to another thought. ‘I need to milk Hendrix’s knowledge as much as possible since his wife and daughter’s fates depend on my success.’

“Sylvester, are you listening? Old man, did you go to sleep?”

“What?” Sylvester returned to reality with a shake of his head. “Ah, yes, let’s Duel Cultivate for the week later. I will try to use the highest versions of my magic and attempt to create some other magical and knightly attacks. I also need to pick a specialisation in magic since I finally got promoted now.”

“Oh! Yes!” Aurora exclaimed excitedly. “You have to pick a good one. With specialised books now, you can learn anything. I had taken Lightning magic during my time, and it made me utterly powerful.”

“Wait!” Felix finally interrupted as he got out of his deep sorrow of seeing his best friend exceeding him in career. “Didn’t you already decide what you’d learn?”

“I did,” Sylvester started telling Lady Aurora his plan. “I’m going for multiple specialisations instead of one. Since I will learn metal manipulation anyway, I also wish to try magnetism. But, unfortunately, it’s rare and hard to learn.”

“Ugh! What’s so good about being a magnet?” Aurora made an ugly face.

Sylvester didn’t elaborate on how overpowering that ability was. ‘Of course, she won’t understand it. Magnetism can perhaps be one of the strongest of all magics to learn. Magnetic fields will allow me to control metal, levitate myself and others, create force fields, use telepathic mind control possibly, and generate electromagnetic pulses. This is too great for this world.’

Sylvester continued with his answer. “I was also interested in Elder magic, but it’s impossible to learn since it’s lost. So I’ve decided to go for Illusion magic, as it requires the use of some degree of light elements along with air and earth.”

“Fuck!” Felix cursed suddenly. “You already have space magic! So… Does this mean you will have metal manipulation, magnetism, illusion, space magic, and your strange shining powers — Five special talents! Good Lord Solis!”

‘I don’t even know if my elven blood can help me gain some other elven branch of magic yet,’ Sylvester thought as he felt hopeful about the future.

“Don’t worry, Felix. I will be an old man by the time I master these.”

“Hah, you’re already an old man,” Aurora exclaimed to ridicule him and returned to eating.

Sadly, Sylvester didn’t feel ridiculed, but something worse. ‘Ugh… I feel like I’m standing naked with all my secrets out whenever she calls me an old man.’

Like that, the evening slowly came to an end, too. But not for Sylvester, as the greedy fat Bards came to his tent to discuss the ‘terms’ of cooperation. They came in a group of fifteen, believing they’d be able to make their voice heard.

Sylvester invited them inside with respect and sat around with them. “What can I do for you, fellow bards?”

Elvis Van Marston spoke up for the others since he was the oldest man there. At least he was not fat. “Lord Bard, we are interested in the new venture you have decided to embark upon. The monthly books that you wish to produce seem like an interesting idea. But we wonder how the profits will be split.”

Sylvester nonchalantly replied. “No profits will be split. The books are for the bards only and are meant to serve as a repository for their songs and poems. The news and stories are there so people may buy them, and I can use that money to fund the writers and the prize money for the winning bards.”

“But, won’t you be making more money from it than spending?” Another older fat Bard spoke up. “Even if the peasants and the common villagers don’t buy it, I’m quite sure traders & minor nobles will enjoy reading about what is happening around Sol. You can sell them for fifty silver crowns each and still earn a lot.”

Sylvester rubbed his chin and nodded, acting like he was deep in thought, but in reality, he was only leading them. He didn’t want to share anything with them or let them invest in his business since that would have given them the right to interfere in his secret operations.

In time, he knew they would all come to him running as their popularity would decrease and the ‘selected’ bards from the book would become more famous.

“Then… I’m afraid I cannot contribute, Lord Bard. My hands are tied with work, as I have been called by nobles for months to come.” A bard said and left respectfully.

One by one, all of them left with somewhat disappointed faces. But Elvis remained behind and only stared at Sylvester. “You have something planned, don’t you, Lord Bard? They are unable to see beyond their greed, but I can. The fact that you are ready to invest the resources and money it takes to write and copy something, it certainly can’t be just for goodwill services for bards.”

“Only time will tell what awaits us in the near future, Bard Elvis. What about you? Will you be joining me or leaving?” Sylvester inquired.

There was silence for a while. The sound of the water flowing in the river nearby was all they could hear.

“To do what you asked for does not take much effort.” Bard Elvis said while standing up. “I came here to see you with the faith that you will be as majestic as the rumours said. You are much more than those rumours, and I believe you are worth following.”

Sylvester walked up to the exit of his tent to see the man off. “Your faith is welcome.”

“Such opportunities come seldom,” Elvis added.

Bard Elvis smiled back and left with a satisfied look. It was evident; for the scents told the stories that expressions could not.

‘Good thing he’s a religious man, or else he’d have acted the same way.’

Bam!

“Maxy! Help!”

“What happened?” Sylvester rushed back inside his tent.

“My back is itchy! It’s annoying.” Miraj cried as he wriggled on the floor mat and rubbed his back.

Sylvester didn’t dare shrug over the problem anymore. “Come here! I will shave some fur from your back and check. You probably have fleas or ticks.”

Miraj was so desperate for relief that he didn’t object to the idea and jumped into Sylvester’s lap. “Quick… I hate this!!! This has never happened before.”

‘That’s why I’m worried, Chonky.’ Sylvester remained silent and used a metal blade to shave the fur.

He held Miraj firmly and slowly exposed the skin on the back, near the joints of the front legs. The skin was bright pink, seemingly Miraj’s natural skin tone. But there was something strange he noticed. Something hard and white protruded from Miraj’s back at the shoulder joints.

“What the… Bones?”

________________________ 𝘦𝘯𝑜𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝗇𝓔t

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