I Became The Pope, Now What?

Once a magnificent fortress towering over the landscape, the giant castle Ashtone now lay in ruins, its walls crumbling and its towers collapsing. The once proud flag that flew atop the highest tower now lay tattered and torn on the ground.

The destruction began slowly as small cracks appeared in the castle’s foundation. But soon, the cracks spread, growing broader and deeper with each passing second. The walls began to shift and sway, groaning under the weight of the castle’s massive stone blocks.

As Sylvester’s destructive magic took its final form, nothing could save the ancient structure. Everything came down, crumbling like a house of glass.

As the dust cleared, the destruction became clear. The castle lay in ruins, its stones scattered about like a child’s toys. The once-mighty towers were now mere piles of rubble, and the moat full of lava was raging with fire since much of the wreckage fell into it.

But the destruction didn’t end there. The falling stones and debris had spread out from the castle, wreaking havoc on the surrounding lands. Trees were uprooted, buildings were destroyed, and the earth was torn apart.

In the same spot as before, Sylvester stayed still, and his hymn continued to echo until the last wall fell. His control over the Hellfire Purge move was enough to ensure he didn’t harm his allies.

“Don’t let your guard down!” Sylvester roared. “If you see something moving — Kill!”

From there, the hunt began. Sylvester, Sir Dolorem and Bishop Lazark kept out their blades and started to look around. But Sir Dolorem was the most helpful as he removed his eyepatch and used his heightened hearing to find any activity in the rubble.

“Someone is here!” Sir Dolorem voiced to alert everyone.

Boom!

Without waiting, Sir Dolorem used simple fire and earth magic. First, he created a tiny tunnel to the voice’s origin and then sent fire blazing down into the tunnel.

“Aaarg~”

Soon enough, the screams came, and they only increased with time. But eventually, they started to die down, and once there were no screams, Sir Dolorem stopped. Then he continued his search for the next target.

Meanwhile, Bishop Lazark had an even better way. He simply tried to summon the undead who had just died. That way, he instantly discovered that only five of the fifteen nobles had been killed in the rubble. So, the search continued as Bishop Lazark, this time, sent undead rats to look for the living.

As for Sylvester, he didn’t have undead or heightened senses. What he did have was an excellent fluffy friend, Miraj. Miraj just roamed around and sniffed as much as he could.

“Maxy! Come, come!” Miraj whispered as loud as he could to get Sylvester’s attention. “Something’s here.”

Sylvester knew Miraj wasn’t joking, so he wasted no time thrusting his spear directly into the rubble.

“Ah!”

The cry came, and following that, Sylvester stabbed as many times as possible until he couldn’t hear any more cries. But he also poured some fire in just to be sure.

The process continued for a while, and one by one, they confirmed the death of fourteen of the nobles. They got their bodies out with Bishop Lazark’s help. But still, the last one was missing, and it appeared they had survived the fall and had hidden somewhere.

“Don’t stop! We must find him and kill him. It’s Lord Harmund, if I remember correctly.” Sylvester ordered the two.

The search continued, and the night slowly dawned upon the Wailing city. Thankfully, all the paths to leave the castle were blocked since Sylvester’s magic had also broken the drawbridge. There was only lava waiting for whoever tried to escape.

Eventually, they broadened their search and started to look around near the edges of the land the castle was built upon. They went close to the lava moat to see if the man had already fallen in and died.

Sadly, hours passed, and they found nothing. Finally, the entire night went by in search, and the sun started to bask the destroyed land in warmth.

“It seems he has somehow escaped.” Sir Dolorem mumbled as they all took some rest finally.

Sylvester didn’t sit, however. He walked back and forth in frustration as his plan was in jeopardy. “This won’t do. We need to find that man, or everything will go to waste. The Patch does not know I’m here yet, so we have the best window to catch them unaware of anything. He will likely head to his noble lands to gather the armies if he has escaped. I will disguise as him and arrive there earlier. If my plans work, we might be able to feed the Sorrow Kingdom for months to come.”

“What are you planning, my lord?” Bishop Lazark asked curiously.

“Nothing but charity, Bishop Lazark. For long enough, the nobles of this kingdom have looted the people. Now they shall pay them back, willingly or unwillingly; it’s up to them. I will leave immediately, so you two must remain beside the Archbishop while he’s being healed. Send a missive to Count Bradley and tell him to bring his forces to the Wailing City directly. We shall make this city our home base for now. Then, since the Patch will not interfere for a month, we’ll have enough time to move.” Sylvester prepared himself mentally for the task at hand.

Sir Dolorem sighed and agreed with the plan. But he had some advice for Sylvester. “Find a few men from Lord Harmund’s entourage and take them along when you return, Lord Bard. Try to find as much as possible about Lord Harmund, his family and the lands. If you and Lord Harmund arrived in the noble lands simultaneously, you might have to answer a few questions to prove yourself to be the real one.”

“Thank you for the advice, Sir Dolorem. And Bishop Lazark, can you give me one of the undead birds? So that I can contact you if needed.”

Bishop Lazark nodded and looked at the sky. Instantly, one live bird came down and sat on his extended palm. In a second, the bird sat down and slowly started to decompose. A minute later, only the skeleton remained, and the bird still seemed as alive as before.

After that, Bishop Lazark whispered something to the bird, and in response, the bird automatically flew and sat on Sylvester’s shoulder.

“It shall remain with you until the destruction of its body, Lord Bard.” Bishop Lazark informed.

Fascinated, Sylvester held the little bird in hand. “Your necromancy is so… Bizarre and interesting at the same time. It’s too rare to find necromancers in the first place.”

Bishop Lazark chuckled, a rarity coming from the man. “It’s not that there are not enough of us. It’s just that most of us like to live in seclusion, in dark and isolated places. There is a social stigma attached to our branch of magic, so we avoid crowds. I am a member of the church, so my case is slightly different.”

Sylvester stood up at that and decided to leave immediately. “Well, I’m delighted that you are one of us, Bishop. Having you as an enemy would have been a pain. I shall take my leave now, be safe and don’t take any unnecessary actions. Try to regroup and wait for the Inquisitors to arrive. If any response comes from the Holy Land, please forward it to me.”

“May the Holy Light enlighten your path, my lord.” Sir Dolorem stood up and saluted.

“Be safe, my lord.” Bishop Lazark added.

Sylvester gave a light nod and left silently, disappearing somewhere beyond the rubble of the fallen castle.

“I wonder how spectacularly he will win this time.” Sir Dolorem muttered with not an ounce of worry on his face.

“You seem quite confident, Sir Dolorem.” Bishop Lazark looked at the man.

“Hah, after years of looking at Lord Bard’s majesty, I’d be foolish not to have confidence in him.”

Bishop Lazark bobbed his head in agreement. “He did get you your eyes back.”

“And his inventions!” Sir Dolorem exclaimed like a proud man.

…

At the same time, thousands of kilometres to the north, in the Holy Land, an urgent meeting of the Sanctum Council was called by the Pope. In the secret chambers, the faces were serious, and the breaths were controlled as all heard the report from Saint Medico, Pope’s chief healer, Cardinal Charles Nos Leeds.

“…After extensive research and testing, I have determined that the plague sample Lord Bard sent does indeed consist of Solarium. But what amazed me was that it’s not a new plague, but just a combination of the last five most deadliest plague and solarium. Therefore, it’s impossible to come into existence naturally.”

Faces turned darker at that revelation. Inquisitor High Lord, the head of all of the Holy land’s military and the Inquisitor rose up and coldly stated his wishes. “Your Holiness, for far too long, the Patch has gone unchecked. Like all, they, too, are Solis’ subject and yet show no respect. Therefore, permit me to lead the Armies and the Inquisitor and bring the Grand Duke to heels — I shall make them bleed until each one of them kneels.”

The Pope raised his palm and silenced the giant Lord of Inquisiton. “Calm down, Lord Inquisitor. Do not forget the proposal sent by Sylvester. As he noticed, the Sorrow Kingdom is reeling with the after-effects of an unprecedented destructive earthquake. To win the people, it’s easy. But we must win the land. If Sylvester’s plan works, we may be able to win over everything without laying a finger.”

“But…” Saint Wazir spoke. “To give the money, it’s easy and understandable. To give the manpower, it’s doable. But, to make him Cardinal Suprima, even a temporary one, it will raise many fingers from the Council of Thirty-Two.”

“I will handle them.” Saint Seer, the spymaster, spoke, a rare thing as he had only harmed Sylvester over the past many years. “Lord Bard has been a Cardinal Suprima before and did a splendid job. We can use that achievement. We must give him all the help we can before the plague spreads too far.”

Inquisitor High Lord glanced at the Saint Seer with his glaring red eyes behind the visor. “The last time you made him Cardinal Suprima, he was ordered to execute Article 66 on Count Ranthburg, which brought the ire of Shadow Knight on him. So what is your true desire? Is it to spread the fire?” .

Saint Seer visibly sweated as he did remember all those ‘mistakes’. So he lowered his head and reassured. “Worry not, Lord Inquisitor. I have no hidden desires anymore.”

The Pope nodded, stamped on a sheet, and quickly wrote down the appointment. “It’s decided then. Sylvester shall be temporarily made the Cardinal Suprima of the Sorrow Kingdom and the Patch. He’s already the Special Judge, so this will only make his work easier. But, as for the plague, I need you to go there personally, Saint Medico. Take some of the Void Keepers with you, and you shall have supreme command of them. If you tell them to die, they shall die.”

“Understood, your grace.”

The Pope faced the Lord Inquisitor then. “Visit the monasteries, Inquisitors and Holy Army camps near The Patch’s border. Prepare for an invasion, if it comes to that — A quick, overwhelming operation. Use all Guardians if you must.”

Lord Inquisitor stood up and thumped his chest. His enraged voice echoed in the room before he left.

“Understood, your holiness. For each tear of innocents they have forced to be spilled. With their blood, the payback shall be fulfilled.”

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