I Became The Pope, Now What?



Inquisitor High Lord felt speechless, as he should be. Amongst everyone Sylvester has asked that question, they were just another Clergyman or woman. But, in Lord Inquisitor's case, he was a Sanctum Council member. He sat in the same room as Saint Scepter for decades and even conversed with the man on many occasions. 

"Visible and yet hidden from our eyes. Such strange ability, all common sense it defies. Lord Bard, I remember it vividly now—before I left the Holy Land, it was he who spoke to me about your heritage. That half-human and half-elven is your parentage." 

Sylvester understood that much from the reaction, but once again, he found himself at square one. He had no idea how Lord Inquisitor would react to the truth. 

"Yes, that's right." There was no point in hiding it when Saint Scepter was going around revealing it. "I've known since I graduated from the School of Dawn." 

Inquisitor High Lord didn't move, but the sound of his breath behind the visor grew louder. "It matters not how deep and dark is the abyss. What matters is the answer, do you believe in Solis?" 

"I didn't as a child," Sylvester replied, speaking honestly. "To have suffered through so much pain and hardships from the day I was born, I refused to believe a God would plan such a fate for me. But then, time passed, and the Lord's plan revealed itself to my eyes. We are all born with a destiny, and fulfilling it is not a question of if but when and how. 

"I've met Solis and conversed with the supreme. I know where I must go or where to lead this realm—not just ours but also theirs."

Inquisitor High Lord followed with more questions. "Why should the realm follow you?" 

Sylvester responded swiftly with his ideas. "Because the Faith of Solis does not discriminate amongst species. A human, elf, dwarf, giant, or even a dragon—as long as they believed in Solis, are welcome. Regardless of what flows in my veins, I remain blessed by Solis. And I shall create a world, an ideal world devoid of wars, with abundant peace. Solis shall reign supreme, and the faith will spread not through violence but through gentle deeds. 

"With my rise, a new faith shall be born. Solis shall be the father of all other gods—so if they believe in any, they believe in Solis—All united under the Faith of Light."

The sad reality was that converting the entire world to the faith of Solis was impossible. There would always be someone who would take offense or retaliate. The better option was to absorb all religions and make a unified faith, with Solis holding the highest position. Faith of Light becoming the blanket term for all, it would unite the world; Not today, not tomorrow, nor in ten years—but someday, without a doubt.

The gentle breeze caressed them both, drawing their attention back to the vast landscape. They ceased their conversation, yet their hearts were filled with unanswered questions.

"Max, Lord Inquisitor!" Aurora climbed up to them. "The people are ready to depart."

Sylvester nodded and approached her. "Then let's make haste."

"I will follow you, Young Bard." Inquisitor High Lord declared before he left. "We stand here due to the grand scheme of the Lord. The day I arrived at that small village to find you. It was my blessing, Solis' reward—a pathway revealed to me to be explored." 

Sylvester smiled and continued to leave. "May the Holy Light enlighten the realm. May it prosper with us at the helm." 

While Inquisitor High Lord remained on the terrace, Sylvester took Miraj and went to the underground vaults of the castle. Being the second richest kingdom in the East, as Sylvester had expected, there was a lot to be stored.

Furthermore, since the Gracia Kingdom once used to be an Empire, they still held on to a few precious remnants of ancient times. However, it mattered not to Sylvester; he emptied it all. There were ten vaults in total, each one of the same size, as big as the interior of a modern cargo ship's hull—massive was an understatement. 

But Chonky's banking didn't end there, as the people of Green City were wealthy too. There weren't enough carriages in the city to transport all the people, as well as their belongings. So Sylvester offered to carry their belongings for the time being and return them at their destination—they just had to write their name, address, and identifying mark on their sacks. 

They initially planned for three hours, but it took ten hours before the people were ready to leave. The numbers had also swelled up since people from nearby towns had also come to escape, as being in close proximity to the Holy Land was dangerous. 

It was a massive march to the north. The entire Green Road looked packed for miles upon miles. Horses, carts, and people on foot covered every inch. Thankfully, the oldest and the youngest weren't there, as they had been sent through Snake River using all the resting ships in the city's port. 

But it was a blessing to have so many powerful wizards follow along. Aurora used her abilities and made the sky rain occasionally, as the Season of Solis was currently at its peak, and the heat was enough to cook eggs on flat stones. 

Slightly over half a million people—all sang hymns while Sylvester led them all at the forefront. His shining halo remained radiant the entire time, as a guiding light motivating them to stay strong. 

They crossed Duke Grimton's region, and many people joined from there, including the Duke and his family. Then they crossed Baron Strongarm's lands, and as expected, the Baron also joined the fray, being Sylvester's loyalist for a long time. 

Slowly, the numbers continued to increase as more nobles came to join. From Dukes to Counts and Barons—Count Raftel and the likes came merrily with open arms, laying themselves at Sylvester's feet, for the light to lead them had returned. 

They surrendered all their wealth to Sylvester, letting him swallow their treasuries. The only things they left behind were broken bridges and empty towns and villages. Sylvester didn't go full scorched earth as he was going to rule the region soon, but he did create conditions where Niel would have to come out and battle him openly. 

Woosh!

On the 7th day of their long march, an event occurred that shocked the entire East Sol. In the middle of the day, peculiar gigantic birds appeared flying, and as they passed by, they dropped hundreds and thousands of sheets of paper with artwork and words. 

Some depicted Sylvester with his halo vanquishing a Demon wearing the Pope's mitre, while others called for the people to come and join the fight against the Demon with the Pope's mitre. The message was very clear, the man ruling in the Holy Land was a Demon—even a child could understand from the art. 

"This art is beautiful." Inquisitor High Lord commented, holding the poster in his hand while walking beside Sylvester. "Yet again, you show me another miraculous creation. I do wonder how this came to formation." 

Sylvester chuckled. "It's a machine I created a long time ago to gather the bards. A contraption capable of producing books by the thousands each day, and it runs on simple fire and water. Lord Inquisitor, over the years, I thought of many revolutionary inventions that could have changed the world—sadly, our society wasn't ready, as we witness now."

The Inquisitor High Lord simply marveled at the ideas. "The realm is in safe hands. Blessed days await these lands." 

"And you shall be there to witness it all alongside me," Sylvester assured him. "The sky's the limit when it comes to innovations."

It took them fifteen days to reach Sandwall County. On almost a daily basis, they witnessed the posters falling from the sky, each time it was something different with a different message. They weren't always strictly related to Sylvester, often serving to instill hope in the people for brighter days. 

"Who was responsible for creating all those posters?" Sylvester asked upon their return to Sandwall County. 

"It was Bishop Gabriel, Your Holiness," Elyon replied, holding the reins of Sylvester's horse. "He's waiting for you inside the newly built fortress—the Church-In-Exile." 

Indeed, a fortress. Sylvester couldn't believe his eyes when he arrived at the destination. The Dwarves were miracle workers who knew how to use not only a hammer but also magic. They used Earth-related runes to raise walls and built an elaborate city with wide walls and large shelters for community housing. Each place was to hold a thousand people. Men and women were to be separated for safety reasons, with ten male or female guards taking an oath to protect each shelter.

Managing so many people wasn't an easy feat, but now that they were there, the dwarves had drawn a plan to build a massive city, using the people as cheap labor. By providing them with employment, the plan aimed to keep their minds occupied and prevent any troublesome ideas from surfacing. 

'Rebuilding Sandwall?' Sylvester thought as he looked at the elaborate diagram of the plan. 'I guess this will be where Sandwall House will be reborn in the future.' 

"I'll fund it. Proceed accordingly. But always keep some Clergymen with you. The new arrivals aren't used to seeing dwarves." Sylvester ordered Elrog. 

"Understood, Lord Bard." 

With that, Sylvester sat in the spacious room of the fortress. It was built on the site where Sandwall Castle once stood, at the edge of the ridge. 

Inquisitor High Lord sat in the same room, along with Lady Aurora, Soulbreaker, Gabriel, and Lazark. It was time to devise a plan.

"Lord Bard." Gabriel suddenly stood up. "We had no time to say it before, but now that we're all gathered, I have something to reveal. I came across something strange while reading books in the Holy Land. It felt insignificant earlier, but now that Saint Scepter's issue has come to light, I have a theory." 

Sylvester gazed intently at his dear friend. "Speak freely, Gab." 

Gabriel picked up a booklet he had brought. "I was interested in the history of the Holy Land and all the past Popes, so I tried to make a list of all of them and compile their journeys. At first, I found the information regarding the Popes with ease, but then I noticed that on a few occasions, the names were incorrect." 

"Be precise," Inquisitor High Lord interrupted. 

Gabriel unfolded a large piece of paper and displayed the names. "For example, in one book, I found the 5th Pope's name written as Pope Pollux 'Genghis' Rathgon, The Warrior Pope—the man who spread the faith of Solis across the continent." 

Thud!

Sylvester abruptly rose to his feet, his brows furrowed. "Continue." 

"Then, there was the case of the 10th Pope, Pope Varus Da Silantia, The Cursed, the one who died after two hundred poison attempts. Strangely, instead of his name as the Pope, I found the name of Saint Scepter of his era, Irwin 'Caesar' Ozaris. Once again, his name was written strangely.

"Then there was Pope Atrox, his name written as Pope Atrox 'Vlad' The Mad. He purged the Church of all infighting and power struggles but made the Church less tolerant, and more militaristic. He brought us the Dark Ages of Demon Burnings." 

Sylvester's hand, tightly clutching the edge of his table, exerted immense force and crushed the wood into fine dust. Veins popped on his head as he guessed the full names. "Who else?"

Gabriel saw the seriousness in Sylvester's reaction and continued. "There are also some great names written strangely. Pope Bryden 'Leonardo' Octavian Brooks. While in the case of Pope Jarl Desmond, upon whose death the Thousand Year War began, his name was replaced with the Saint Scepter of that era. 

"There are many such instances, and almost thirty out of the past seventy-nine Popes had their names tampered with. Each name had something added to it or replaced with the strange name of their Saint Scepter—Pericles, Ramses, Akbar, Qin, Nero, Henry, Ivan, Timur, Hippocrates, and other such words were added."

At last, when Gabriel lowered the sheet of paper and looked around the room, only confused silence lingered in the air. Except for Sylvester, none knew the gravity of those insignificant name additions. 

"What of Pope Axel and the current Saint Scepter?" Sylvester questioned further. 

"They weren't included in any of the books I was reading at that time," Gabriel said. 

At that, Sylvester exchanged a meaningful glance with Inquisitor High Lord, and both came to the same conclusions. 

"Can I have a moment in silence?" Sylvester asked, his hands clenching the table still. "Leave the paper, Gab." 

None of them said anything, having noticed Sylvester's expression. It was an order, not a request. 

The last one to leave was Inquisitor High Lord. Before taking his leave, he spoke, "It appears we have been fooled throughout history. We have been led to this mystery. Who we believed were the Popes were puppets. And those who were true rulers—were perhaps intruders." 

Sylvester, regrettably, felt even more distressed. He allowed the man to leave and contemplated in silence. He took a seat and pressed his fingers against his throbbing temples, sensing the return of a piercing headache.

'I'm afraid… they were more than mere intruders.' 

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