I Became The Pope, Now What?

In the coming months,  Sylvester's life was just—work, invent, train and sleep—as he completely drowned himself in work.

Finally, in three months, he finished making the printing press, but then he realised that if he arranged the letter moulds by hand, it would take him a week to set a single page on a printing press.

So, he had to create another smaller machine, which was controlled by magic runes. The principle was simple. By putting a lot of moulded letters in a keyboard-like container, Sylvester created a sort of typesetter.

Using runes and small trapdoors, he made a keyboard table with small, long empty spots for putting stacks of each led-tin moulded letter. Then, with magic, he'd open the trapdoor, and his desired letters would fall to create words and lines.

It was not easy, but it fastened the work. He knew if he had Felix and Gabrial with him, he could have asked them for help as he trusted them enough. Not to mention, he'd have put them under oath.

By the sixth month, as the last month of the year started and the winter gently touched the Holy Land, Sylvester was mostly done with his book. He aimed to print fifty books at the start and kept the moulded pages for later use.

[A/N: Search YT-Steam Powered printing press #2]

Making them was not cheap as the moulded letters used tin and lead, while the ink also used many chemicals. But, thankfully, alchemy was a thing in the world, and he could find whatever he needed in the Holy Land at a price.

"I just semi-invented the thing that can change the whole world, yet nobody will ever know about it for a good while. It makes me feel somewhat… disappointed. Sadly, right now, it can be used against me." Sylvester talked to himself in the secret underground basement.

Digging tunnels was extremely easy using magic, but the main problem was setting it up, reinforcing its walls, and other things. He was still only half done with his secret labyrinth.

"Maxy! How long do I have to keep looking?" Miraj voiced from the other side of the printing press, as his job was to keep an eye on every new printed page and tell if the ink started fading.

"Just ten minutes more. We're nearly done for today."

"I'm hungry. I should have stayed with my big mum. She gave me so many bananas." Miraj grumpily replied.

Sylvester chuckled and walked over to him. "My big mum? You're getting too comfortable with her. Did you start training on the running wheel I made?"

Miraj swiftly looked away at the papers. "Oh, they look fine. Hmm… Let me see, this is good… This one too…"

"Good boy, keep working." Sylvester patted him and walked back to his seat. "Let's see what Felix wrote this week."

It had been six months since Felix and Gabriel left for their assignment. It had lasted surprisingly long, but Sylvester was happy as the weekly reports suggested they were doing a good job.

[Things have been going well, and Duke Iceling has cooperated with us. We found no conspiracy done by Masan spies, though the rumours of the Mountain Tribes coming down south to attack were authentic.

We recently helped the Duke fend off one such attack. It's unknown why they are coming down, but my job is done here, and I have no aspiration to go further north. So I, with the rest, will be returning to the Holy Land in a week.

Also, the food here is atrocious, so please get someone to make a delightful meal for us. I will bless your next ten generat—Ah! I forgot you're going to stay a pure maiden. Well, anyway, May the Holy Light enlighten us.

Give my best wishes to Mother Xavia, and of course, Isabella—Maybe give her a rose in my name—Wait! No! Don't go near her. She will think you gave her the rose, you devilishly handsome womaniser fiend.

I repeat, don't do anything, Sylvester. Or I will… I will hire bards to sing nonsense about you.

Regards,

Your father.

Sorry, I just realised saying that the last line was inappropriate. Let me fix it.

Regards,

Your Daddy.]

"Hah!" Sylvester laughed heartily and folded the letter to put it in the case. Over the past few weeks, he had come to enjoy Felix's letters as they most often didn't just contain information but entertainment as well.

"They will love this shop and the food. I can already tell." He muttered and walked over to the steam engine to power it down and disengage the printing press.

"Chonky, eat up all the machinery here and let's go."

"Aye, Aye, Maxy!" Miraj was happy to finally leave the noisy place.

Woosh!

Miraj opened his jaws, and the magic happened. Everything in the room got sucked into his bottomless belly without any damage.

"Done!" Miraj jumped onto his shoulder. "Get me a banana from above, please. You even used my pretty face on the shop sign."

"Sure, you deserve it for the hard work."

He locked the room up and checked the tunnels he had made. He was working in another room, a healer's lab, where Healer Hendrix and Sylvester wished to research Duke Daemon's eyes and find secrets to Futuresight.

'So much work to do. But my time to go on field mission has come again.'

He felt slightly dejected as he had come to like this calm and periodic lifestyle. But he knew he had to go and implement all he had learned from the Pope outside to master it all.

He went upstairs to the ground floor. The restaurant had finished serving for the night, and the cleaning was being done. The three ex-slave ladies were hard workers but also loved their job as the people loved the cuisine, and every time a customer thanked them for the food, they felt pride.

It had been three months since the 'Bard's' opened. The most liked food there were pizza, lemon soda and ice cream. In just the first month, the restaurant had shown four times returns in profitability, and it was only increasing.

As the fame of the food spread in the Holy Land, many wealthy clergymen started ordering food too. Just for that, Sylvester had to hire some talentless deacons to be delivery boys on horses. Heck, he even hired a group of four mercenaries from the Guild Peninsula as security since break-ins were happening, not for money, but by people trying to steal recipes.

Though, he made the four mercenaries minor helpers too, who had to clean the restaurant every night. They lived in a wooden outhouse Sylvester constructed for them. It was well paying, a regular, easy-money job for them, and they loved it.

But tonight was different as it was the eighth night before the end of the year. As the three chef women locked the 'Bard's' to rest in their rooms, two mercenaries were ordered to take a big carriage filled with tasty food and ice cream inside the Holy Land to various orphanages.

It was Sylvester's gift to all the little kids. However, with the food, there were sheets of paper. All of them held some challenging puzzles, identical to one another. At the bottom of the page was written, 'Any child who completes this puzzle shall get a month's supply of ice cream for free.'

"Drive carefully, and don't spoil the food," Sylvester ordered the mercenaries as he parted ways with them inside the Holy Land.

"Understood, Lord Bard. Have a good night."

Sylvester saw them go in the orphanages' direction. 'I hope this little activity will benefit me. If I can find a few natural geniuses, perhaps I can train and teach them to be great future inventors and thinkers.'

He didn't have huge aspirations, but he did want to remove things such as slavery from the world once he became the Pope. Sadly, the only way to peacefully do it was by reducing dependence on human resources and making keeping slaves more expensive than machines.

But he was, after all, a single man. He had limited time, so he wished to cultivate talents from the start. It would take him a decade or more to make them fantastic and loyal. Fortunately, he had no wish to bring any significant changes to the world anything soon.

'They can be my golden goslings who shall one day grow to lay golden eggs for me.'

Hopeful of a bright future, he made his way to the Pope's palace as his day was just starting. Training with the Pope until morning was his usual routine now. It had certainly made him stronger and increased his stamina.

"You looked particularly happy." The Pope saw his face and asked.

By now, the Pope and Sylvester had grown much friendlier as they met each other daily. Although there was still an air of formality as, in the end, the Pope was the Pope.

"I read Felix's letter. He will be returning soon."

"Hah, and he shall cry soon." The Pope laughed. "I heard you asked Saint Wazir to find you an assignment somewhere in the south this time, in the Sorrow Kingdom that no longer exists. May I know the reasoning? It's barren land full of poverty, refugees and disease."

"One reason is that I want to see the south and get experience, and the second reason is that I want to meet Viscount Gordon, who knows metal manipulation. I wish to unlock the potential of my spear." Sylvester was honest, as the Pope wanted him to get stronger too.

The Pope agreed, and they started the training. "That's understandable, son. You've had the spear for years, and it's about time you become its master. With its unlocked potential, you can be deadlier and faster."

Boom!

Sylvester attacked first this time. In six months, he had learned to fight all the elements. He was still no master but well accustomed now.

Bam!

The Pope replied by creating small bullets made of stone and throwing them at Sylvester at top speed. In response, Sylvester created a light shield and kicked the ground, creating a long line of protruding spikes of stones towards the Pope.

Of course, the Pope held himself back by a lot, only fighting with the power of an Archwizard just a few levels above Sylvester. That ensured Sylvester got pushed to match the higher power and did not end up going down in one go.

Thud!

"You've gotten better. A few more months, and you'd be a master in fighting multiple opponents." The Pope praised him.

"What if I'm against a Grand Wizard or a Supreme Wizard?" Sylvester asked.

A ridiculing laughter left the old man's mouth. "Hah, son, unless you reach level eight, the last level of Archwizard rank, don't even think. If you sense a Grand Wizard or a Supreme Wizard—Run!"

'If they let me run.' Sylvester thought, knowing that if a Grand Wizard or Supreme Wizard really decided to kill him, he had nothing to defend himself with.

They continued to fight till morning. But once Sylvester dropped to the ground in exhaustion, the training was over.

"See you in the evening." The Pope left, not even breaking a sweat.

Panting, Sylvester gathered his items, picked up his spear and left the Pope's Palace for a four-hour sleep. Indeed, he was living a life of self-induced slavery.

'Mum said she'd cook dinner tonight. I hope Aurora doesn't come today, that annoying goofy woman.'

On his loyal horse, he trotted towards the Bright Mother's housing. The road was mostly empty, some winter fog was there, and the air was incredibly soothing.

Tap!

Tap!

"Hmm?"

He glanced at his shoulder as something abruptly touched it.

"What the…"

To his shock, it was…

"Undead bird?!"

________________________

[A/N: Now begins the next major arc]

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