I Became The Pope, Now What?

Sand City, the Capital of the Highland Kingdom.

King Atrox Highland stood beside the river where a massive stone dam was constructed. It was the second of the two dams that he planned to build. One was already finished, and it rested in the middle segment of the river that passed through his land.

His reason for building the dam was not political but economical. As per Sylvester’s suggestion, he planned to submerge some parts of the lands in his Kingdom that rested beside the river.

“Gladius, tell the builders to go with the plan. We need not wait for any permissions. Down south, only The Patch will be affected, for the Sorrow Kingdom has nothing left to lose now.” King Highland ordered while proudly looking at his realm from a high tower.

Gladius Highland, the Prima of the King and the younger brother, seemed a bit worried. “My king, The Patch will wage war against us if we follow the plan. They have three Grand Wizards, while we have only you and the Queen.”

“Hah! Don’t worry about that, my little brother. Sylvester has promised that I will have to deal with only one of them, and he will take care of the rest. I am already at my peak, and no single Grand Wizard can truly defeat me, let alone me and my lovely wife combined.” King Highland proclaimed.

Gladius sighed and shook his head. His face, full of worry, didn’t change and only turned uglier. “Your Majesty, why do you trust that boy so much? He has no reason to be kind to us; in fact, he has every reason to resent what happened in Deserte Village after his birth. If not for Inquisitors, he would have been thrown in the fire and his mother rap—”

“Enough!” King Highland interjected with a forceful voice. “To this day, I still have nightmares pondering over what might have occurred. What if the Lord Inquisitor had not been there? … What if… We did a folly and allowed a vile heretic as Chief Deserte to rule. But now, I perceive young Sylvester as a son, even if he doesn’t regard me as his father. Thanks to his remedy today, the kingdom possesses a young prince, and because of his deeds, we may well transform our desert kingdom, grappling with agricultural growth, into a realm of plenty.

“Do not worry too much, my brother. Place some faith in my capacity to gauge character. Young Bard is a person who honours and trusts those who reciprocate the same. Thus far, he has always kept his word, and I believe that the trust shall not be broken this time as well.”

Gladius took a long breath and nodded. “I understand, your majesty. I shall go and inform the builders to block the river.”

Soon, the King stood alone atop the tower and looked towards the South, at the Sorrow Kingdom. His face adorned with a big smile as he brushed his white beard. “Let’s see what interesting miracles you show this time, Archbishop Sylvester. Will it be a quick step towards Cardinal rank, or perhaps… Saint? Ah, I feel excited now!”

…

Sylvester kept his search for the rare family going on for an entire week. He went from one village and town to another, looking for an anomaly. Sadly, it was hard to find in a world where information was not gathered anywhere. There was no registry that he could look at, and he had to go and ask around a lot.

Still, eventually, he found some leads, so, with newfound hope, he arrived at a new town called Magnuslia, named after its founder, Magnus the kind, a Baron who inherited his land at the age of thirteen but died a year later from a disease. He donated all his wealth and created the once-flourishing town of Magnuslia.

It was a town with a population of eight thousand, but only one thousand survived after the hunger and plague. But, even among the last thousand, nearly eight hundred were sick from the plague, and there was no hope of saving.

“Let’s keep the disguise of clergymen here. I shall be an Archpriest, and you two shall be the same. We are here under the order of Saint Medico, who came to Sorrow Kingdom to help with the plague.” Sylvester ordered Sir Dolorem and Bishop Lazark, who were officials of lower rank than him.

With the plan ready, they entered the town and started asking questions door to door. Since they were wizards, they had nothing to be afraid of. Sadly, it was hard to tell which homes were abandoned and which still had someone living in them. So oftentimes, they had to wait for a few good minutes before moving on. And sometimes, they’d find someone utterly weak and dying opening the door. They’d just sing a prayer to them and then move on.

They started in the morning, and eventually, it turned to night. But even by then, they had only searched one-fourth of the total houses. Tired, and somewhat bored, they tried to find a place to stay the night and continue the next day. After all, nobody was going to open the door at night for three strange men.

“That house has lights still on.” Sylvester pointed at a much bigger house than usual and proceeded towards it.

Knock! Knock!

They waited for a minute.

Bam!

Sir Dolorem kicked the door this time to wake up the residents.

“Argh! Who in the holy Solis’ name is disturbing this Baron!”

The door opened with a man grunting and shouting at them. However, as soon as the man glanced at Sylvester, he recognised them as he had seen their disguise previously.

Sylvester, too, was taken aback. “Ah, you’re Baron Clofield! What are you doing here? You never replied again to Archbishop’s orders.”

‘Fear? I smell too much of it. Is he hiding here from the Archbishop? But why?’ Sylvester smelled a plethora of things, but the fear struck him the most.

The old Baron tried to control himself the best, but even Sir Dolorem and Bishop Lazark could see there was something wrong with his sweaty face.

“We shall rest here tonight.” Sylvester didn’t wait and barged into the house, shoving the old man to the side.

They went and took seats in the living room of the house. Sir Dolorem went to the kitchen and got water. They asked for nothing and took everything as if they owned it. All of them knew exactly what needed to be done — they were pressuring the old baron.

“W-What are you here for, priests?” Baron Clofield asked them as he rubbed his hands.

Sylvester told him the truth. “We’re looking for a family that lives in a plague-hit region and is still completely fine. They might be the key to solving the plague.”

Baron rubbed his chin and tried to think of someone like that. “There are still a few families left, but I believe most of them have someone in their family die from the plague. There could be someone fitting your description.”

Sylvester looked left and right. “Where is little Amy? I hope she is fine if you brought that little bundle of joy to such a dangerous town.”

“S-She is fine, my lord, just sleeping. I shall go and change into my normal robes. Then, I shall cook something for your humble selves.” The Baron walked away quickly to his room.

Sylvester glanced at Sir Dolorem and Bishop Lazark and nodded. “Something isn’t right. Start looking around, but don’t act suspicious.”

The other two nodded and stood up to look at things in the room. Then, they went to the kitchen in the name of cooking and started looking around. They looked for any clues, anything that could be related to blasphemy or some crime.

“Ah! Why are you troubling yourselves, priests? I shall cook for you. Please take a seat.” The Baron soon returned in his usual robes and started putting things around frantically.

Sylvester nodded and stepped back to take his seat again. He started to talk, trying to scare the man. “The Holy Land has become serious about the Sorrow Kingdom. They might send the Holy Army and Inquisitors our way to control the situation.”

‘Ah, the fear increased. What the hell is he doing here?’

“I believe you should come with us to the Wailing City. It’s our stronghold now.” Sylvester offered.

“Ah, Priest Johnathan, I still have much work to do here and…” ｂ𝚍𝚘𝚟ｌ.ｎｔ

“Umh…”

“Mister priest?”

Sylvester, Sir Dolorem and Bishop Lazark’s heads turned to the side. There, they noticed Amy coming out in her sleeping gown, rubbing her eyes and looking at them with interest.

Sylvester abruptly stood up, his eyes narrowing and veins appearing on his fist. He walked over towards Amy and knelt down to caress her head.

Then he faced the Baron, “Clofield, why is she coming out of the same room you went in?”

“Ah… I-I’m like a father to her, so…”

Woosh!

Sir Dolorem stood up, walked over to the Baron, and stayed beside him with one hand on the hilt of his sword. “Answer him… Honestly!”

“I-I am like her father…”

Sylvester continued to caress Amy’s head while using magic to make his palm warm. He closed his eyes and tried to think with focus. He knew he wasn’t going to like it, and he also knew that it was a crime too common in the world and time he lived in. But that didn’t make it justifiable.

‘Now I know why she was limping back then, and even now she…’

His eyes opened abruptly, wide and big. With no expression on his face, he uttered. “You had everything a commoner could envy, and yet, for no reason, you chose the path of a heathen.”

“M-My… respected priests… There is a misunderstanding.”

Sylvester shook his head and nodded towards Sir Dolorem. Then he sat in front of Amy, blocking the view and put his hands on her ears while she just stared at his face, tears automatically welling in her eyes, for the moment she had been waiting for had finally arrived.

Sylvester uttered his final words.

“Farewell — May the Holy Light guide you to hell!”

[A/N: See Amy on my Discord. I’d upload it here but I’m on a flight and only my mac has wifi.]

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