I Became The Pope, Now What?

Chapter 633 632. A Tense Dinner

Sylvester didn’t care much about the Elder Council of the Elves. As long as King Rathagun was with him, he knew he could move on with the plan slowly and bring peace between their species.

He wanted to showcase his majesty before them and earn their awe and curiosity. That was the only way to earn respect from beings who were likely millennia-old, if not older. At just twenty-six, he knew his strength was the only thing that would earn him respect—but he chose not to use it due to the risks.

He sensed the scent of admiration and surprise from the crowd of elves around him. It was precisely what he wanted. He shook King Rathagun’s hand without reservation.

But as always, someone had to ruin the mood. An elf came, looking slightly older and more mature than Rathagun. However, when he spoke, that maturity seemed superficial. He had blond hair and was handsome, yet his mouth was equally repulsive.

“What is this? I thought we were receiving the Pope of humans, not a songster.”

Sylvester noticed the expression of repulsiveness on Rathagun’s face, as well as the uneasiness of the other elven elders. Right away, he knew who this blonde elf was. “The beauty of having a long life is that we get to explore everything—experience everything. Not everyone has the mental capacity to cherish what others do—but it is alright.”

“Spoken like a wise man,” King Rathagun was already fond of Sylvester for indirectly shaming Elder Ellitran. “I appreciate you for saving my people from the clutches of slavery. They will be respected and cared for in their homeland.”

Sylvester nodded and chose to remind the man that this was a two-way exchange, “Being generous is something that never goes unappreciated—one way or another, the universe gives something back.”

With that, Rathagun led Sylvester to meet with some of the senior elven elders. Most of them looked like middle-aged men at most, and just a few of them had beards. The most common thing they all had was their tall stature and handsome faces—truly, it was as if they had made a deal with the devil to look this good. But considering how hard it was for them to procreate—it was indeed akin to a pact with the devil.

“This is the First Elder and my second in command, Florian Daeleth,” Rathagun introduced the man with respect in his voice. Florian had such long red hair that they touched his lower back. At the same time, he looked muscular in his green, silky robes. He wore a constant gentle smile, and it was genuine.

‘The scents of respect—at last, a decent elf,’ Sylvester shook the man’s hand.

After that, Rathagun took Sylvester to the man he hated the most. “This here is Elder Ellitran Dalor Malgath, the queen’s father.”

‘The thorn in Rathagun’s side.’ Sylvester also shook hands with the man, ‘It will be interesting to deal with him.’

“I heard a lot about you, Elder Ellitran—You trained King Rathagun and are his father-in-law. Your opinion must be highly valued here,” Sylvester said, acting knowledgeable as well as ignorant at the same time—the perfect blend for subtle mockery.

Ellitran’s mouth twitched in a curve. “Of course, the King considers everything I suggest—who to kill and defend.”

‘Oh, is that a threat?’ Sylvester felt amused by the man but didn’t hate him since he understood why he hated King Rathagun so much.

“Let us go to the royal castle, Pope Sylvester. Let us show you our elven cuisine and hospitality.” King Rathagun said, sounding a lot more enthusiastic than he should be.

Sylvester followed beside King Rathagun, walking through the capital of the elven kingdom. He genuinely liked the landscape and the way of life. There was a lot more nature everywhere. There were tall trees covering almost every piece of land, and all the roads and buildings were surrounded by wide branches with lush greeneries. Small fountains and canals were everywhere, as were flowerbeds.

The elves residing there appeared both wealthy and beautiful. But what irked Sylvester was how openly they displayed their slaves, not much different from the past Sol. He saw humans following various elves, holding luggage or something else. He didn’t find any physical abuse, but from the hopeless look on their faces, he knew it likely happened behind closed doors.

‘If they refuse to give up slavery, I’ll have no choice but to take a harder approach,’ Sylvester thought while admiring what he could.

Soon enough, they arrived at what seemed like a large dining hall. It was a massive room with an elevated ceiling and strategic windows to optimize natural light. Decorated with bright light, silky green and purple curtains, and various showpieces around the walls. In the middle of it all was a massive, long table made of white stone, and the chairs were the same. He couldn’t find much made from wood.

“Let me introduce you to the delicacies of Alfia first,” King Rathagun proudly took a seat at the end of the table. He invited Sylvester to sit on his right side while Bloodrain and Soulbreaker took the other two seats beside Sylvester.

At that moment, Sylvester stood up again and walked around the table behind King Rathagun, “Greetings, you must be Queen Delimira.”

The famed beauty of Alfia, the Queen, with her mature-looking face and long blonde hair, walked in wearing pale golden robes, elegant and regal in style. Her eyes were big and shining as if also admiring him back. Yet, there was some coldness in the way she looked and moved.

She raised her hand in courtesy, and Sylvester held it in his palm before kissing the back of her hand.

He smiled radiantly, the bane of most women. “You are as beautiful as the rumors say, Queen Delimira.”

She almost chuckled, but she held herself back in the presence of all the elders, “You… don’t appear as old as I expected from a Pope.”

“Haha!” Sylvester didn’t need to hold back and laughed. “Well, fortune favors the brave, and I’ve been battling since I was born—I was quite favored, I have no doubt.”

Rathagun’s face fell when he heard the part about battling since he was born. He knew Sylvester would have lived a far better life if he had been more brave in the past.

After flirting with his stepmother, Sylvester moved back to his seat and spoke with the rest of the elders sitting around the table. There were a total of ten elders with the Queen’s father and excluding the King. Avanss wasn’t a part of the elders and only sat beside Queen Delimira.

“This is quite a historic day,” Sylvester said and raised a hand toward the middle of the large empty table since the food hadn’t arrived yet. “This is akin to the first official contact between two civilizations—for a thousand years, we have been led to wars for mistakes made by our ancestors. The death of Pope Desmond remains shrouded in mystery, and who killed him is still unknown—No more the past will be allowed to manipulate our future. So, I came bearing gifts.”

Woosh!

Instantly, Miraj opened his mouth on Sylvester’s hand and spewed boxes upon boxes, warped in beautifully painted papers tied with ribbons. There were also bottles of Sunshine Nectar, the alcohol that had no alcohol. There were musical instruments as well, and copies of hymns that Sylvester had written, as well as various other exciting books about elementary science.

However, the elders were clearly more shocked by his space magic than the gifts. They just watched as a pile of gifts formed on the table, obscuring the view of some elders on the other side.

Crunch!

“Oh, great Mother Nature!” All of a sudden, the oldest elder among the group, the one with the longest white beard and actual old facial features, exclaimed. “This is quite delicious! What is this?”

King Rathagun waved his hand, moving the gifts out of the way to look. There, the long white bearded elf was eating something brown, similar to a tile, “What are you eating, General Zelphar?”

‘What?!’ Sylvester’s head turned toward the old man in the faraway seat near the other end of the table. ‘That’s General Zelphar?! I thought he died. That’s what the books told us back during our school days.’ ｂｏ𝚟𝚕.

Sylvester stared at the jolly-looking old man, still very muscular and tall, but his face looked more like an old happy-go-lucky grandpa.

‘He’s killed almost a dozen Grand Wizards of Sol in a thousand years? Did he retire?’ Sylvester wondered and chose to speak directly.

“That is called chocolate, General Zelphar. It’s made from seeds that I found and developed—known for its smooth and sweet texture when combined with sugar. Eating a moderate amount of this can help one’s body with better blood circulation and raise energy levels, especially in activities involving the bed.”

Crunch!

Almost all the Elders immediately unwrapped a chocolate bar and began eating it. Of course, they wanted to have kids with their wives. Anything that could help in that was a goddess’ blessing.

“I thought General Zelphar had passed away in battle with Pope Axel?” Sylvester asked King Rathagun in a low voice.

“He didn’t lose,” Rathagun answered in an even lower tone. “He simply got bored of fighting for a thousand years and decided to retire and become an elder. Now, he mostly spends time eating, writing, training, singing, and courting women.”

“…”

Sylvester almost saw Felix in General Zelphar. ‘They’d make great friends.’

Cough!

But as usual, Elder Ellitran couldn’t bear the positive air in the hall and chose to speak, “Your Majesty, you wished to show the Pope our hospitality. Why not begin with reciprocating their hospitality?”

‘Here it comes.’ Sylvester knew where this was going.

“What do you mean, Elder?” Rathagun question.

‘The Queen looks uncomfortable,’ Sylvester noticed the annoyed gaze of the woman.

“Your Majesty, when you visited the Holy Land, you created a spectacle—I’m sure Pope Sylvester would like to kneel before you as well and show his desire for genuine peace.”

_________________

Thank you for reading. Gifts and GT votes are highly appreciated.