I Became The Pope, Now What?

As Sylvester left, just the next day in the evening, rows upon rows of boats, small and big, appeared in the White River. There were hundreds, all filled with luggage and people.

In turns, they all stopped at the small port of the former Duke's castle and unloaded. The soldiers had already taken positions across the town, manning various streets and watchtowers. The people were slowly guided through the streets and shown places to live for the time being.

As the people went further, they came across a magnificent town square. The paving stones were smooth and even, and the area was bathed in ethereal beauty. They stood in awe, marvelling at the picturesque scene before them. The square was full of vendors' carts spread about, and the empty storefronts stood as silent sentinels, testifying to the town's prosperity.

The ordinary people of the Borzol faction, men, women and children, looked at each other, smiling and soon broke out into cheers and laughter. They found a new, better place to call home and were overjoyed at the prospect of living in such a vibrant and comforting place.

With time, the night came, and the town streets got covered with scenes of people eating, talking and just being happy. They danced, sang, played their tribal flutes and welcomed the new life.

Sadly, the same feelings were not shared by the two kings of the Borzol faction in the giant castle, for they knew how temporary the peace was.

"Hraaagh!"

Fralan angrily threw a small stone candleholder in the Duchess' office. He breathed very fast, and his eyes were bloodshot red. "Why is it still following us? Why not the rest of the Duchy? Why not the Storst faction?"

Zelfim kept his madness in check and tried to be the real elder brother. "It seems Emperor Lich has gotten a smell of us, and he came after us because we're the first thing it sensed. It won't stop unless it has made each one of us its undead slave."

"What now? We go further south? The southerners will attack us on sight there." Fralan asked.

Sadly, Zelfim had no answer to this question. There was no other place for them to go because the undead was after them. How far would they have to run to be safe?

Bam!

"Chief!" A soldier entered abruptly. "We found an undead roaming in the nearby woods outside!"

"What?!" Zelfim's eyes widened in pure horror. "How is that possible? They are still supposed to be a good two days behind us. So how did they cross the whole mountain range?"

"We're doomed!" Fraland cried, finally sensing the deadly mess they were in. It was the time for flight or flight. But, sadly, he could not run away either, as the tribe was his seat of power.

Bam!

Another guard entered and reported. "Chief! Many giant skeleton undead were reported. They are taller than the trees, and their heads reach as high as our boundary walls."

There was just silence in the room. They had to make a choice and stand by it. Either retreat or stand their ground to save the southern land they had finally found.

"Start manning the walls. All the fighting-age people must report to the northern wall and prepare the projectile weapons. All the wizards must report to me directly, and all the warriors must report to Fralan. Failure to do so will be considered treason! Go, announce it." Zelfim ordered, leaving no room for Fralan to chime in.

"Understood, chief!"

Soon, the entire town that was busy cheering now started to cry as the men and women had to go and fight. Sadly, many of them were drunk and in no condition to fight, but they still went ahead and reported as not doing so was treason.

Small bells rang around the city, ensuring all the non-fighting-age people huddled in various large halls. The old and the young ones helplessly looked at each other's faces and prayed to the five mothers.

In an hour, the sun completely set and spread the eerie darkness. The whole northern wall of the town and the castle got filled with barbarian soldiers. There were bows and countless arrows with burning buckets beside them.

Dealing with the undead wasn't easy, after all. To destabilise them entirely, one needed to destroy them fully.

Thud!

Thud!

In the middle of the darkness, far away at the front of the north wall, many clanks of bones and metal started to come as if raindrops. Just from the sound, it was clear that the horde was humongous.

Every Barbarian felt goosebumps all over their bodies, and their tongues went dry. Most of them had never seen an undead, let alone fight it. Still, their barbarian blood and lifestyle didn't allow them to cower and run away.

"If they start advancing, I want all of you to start striking indiscriminately. Throw any type of fire magic or projectile at them." Zelfim commanded the men while standing at the front.

They could not see too far, so they had no idea how many undead there were or what type of undead they were. Furthermore, the night had only begun, and they could only pray to the five mothers to postpone the battle until the morning.

'Only if we had a light wizard among us.' Zelfim cursed internally and stood at the castle wall with a big frown. His blood was rushing and telling him to jump and deal with it himself like always. But sadly, this was a different situation, and he could die.

Clank!

Clank!

His worst fears came true at midnight as a wave of small, undead skeletons rattled their bones and tiny swords. There were countless, so many that even the snow under them got covered.

"Attack at will!"

Boom!

The wizards shot their fire spells.

Woosh!

The archers sent their arrows of fire.

Slash!

The knights sent slashes of their swords using magic.

However, to the horror of all, it did nothing other than slow them down a little. The skeleton on fire kept moving. Those with chopped legs kept dragging themselves, and the same happened with those without arms.

An unstoppable army of undead kept walking and slowly piled up beside the castle wall. The horde slowly started to turn into a hill that increased with every new skeleton.

'Fuck! If these low-level ones are this tough to kill, what about the rest?' Zelfim cursed and stood up on the edge of the castle.

Woosh!

Just a little wave of a sword was all it took him to crush the whole pile of skeletons into bone powder. The power was so strong that it even left a small hole in the ground. He was, after all, a Platinum Knight, the peak knightly talent known to the world.

'As long as they don't open multiple fronts, I can tackle them alone.' Zelfim assured himself.

Thud!

Thud!

But then thousands of giant skeletons came into view, as tall as the castle wall itself. Zelfim didn't budge and knew he must deal with them before they could damage the walls and leave the old and children vulnerable.

"O' Five Mothers of the mountains, guide your son to glory!" Zelfim chanted and held his sword in a striking position. The long, curly-shaped blade shone in complete red soon enough, revealing the knightly magic imbued in it. It was his limitation as a knight that his ranged attacks were weak. So he had to wait for the enemy to come close.

'Just a little more.'

'Some more…'

"Got you!"

Woosh!

Zelfim made a long horizontal swing with his sword, and the blade sang a deadly song as it cut the air and spewed a giant arc of pure fire. It was not only hot but also sharp and headed to destroy all the giant skeletons.

In the darkness of the night, as the arc travelled, it illuminated everything, even the far end of the enemy side. That was when everyone saw a glimpse of the extent of the undead army. It was enough to make their scalp tingle as their numbers left them speechless.

Boom!

"What!" Zelfim exclaimed as his attack was stopped by hundreds of giant, black rune shields that came out of nowhere to protect the skeletons. It was maddening as he knew his blade strike was strong enough to cut a whole mountain in two. He was expecting to see pure devastation on the enemy side.

With that, long beads of sweat started to fall from Zelfim's forehead. He finally knew how strong the enemy was, and to his rotten luck—he stood no chance.

…

Sylvester saw everything from a reasonable distance in the south. He saw the various lights in the town and the excessive activity at the northern walls. He could vaguely guess what was happening and just waited for his time.

"Chonky, are you ready? Just eat the undead into your belly, as many as you can. They are already dead, so there is no need to be scared."

Miraj also wore special leather mini armour around his body and looked cute. He was a furry cat, but still, the north was making him cold. "Aye, Aye, Maxy! You can count on me. I'm no doggy, but I will devour those bones."

Sylvester chuckled and kept watching the town. The scenes were scary and somewhat awe-inspiring. He had seen many paranormal things before, but nothing came close to the horde of undead mess before him.

Luckily for the Barbarians, the morning came, and Emperor Lich had still not attacked personally. So the town stood tall, as did the castle and all the walls. However, even when morning came, the attacks of the undead never stopped. The fight had gone on long enough that all men and women were tired.

"This won't help us. We can't stay here for too long." Fralan commented tiredly. "We are warriors and must engage them."

For once, Zelfim agreed with him. "You're right. I'm a Platinum Knight and should fully use my abilities. Perhaps the Emperor Lich has no physical prowess, so it's staying away?"

With that, the shouting order came. "Open the gates! Army, charge ahead!"

The northern gates opened, and the barbarian army with no real discipline ran out to fight whatever they saw first, with no sense of what to target. They spread around and attacked any undead they found.

Paaaa!

Just then, a loud sound of the old tribal bugle came from the west, and lots of horse riders appeared, all wearing barbarian armour. They were fast and strong and joined the disgruntled army of the Borzol faction.

As all this was happening, the sun illuminated the sky a little. So Sylvester decided to do his side of the work.

He put a firecracker with special chemicals in it and set it afire.

Boom!

A long, red streak of light glistened in the sky for a few seconds. The signal had come. The massive Winter Army of nearly two hundred thousand moved fast.

As the soldiers utilised the clandestine passageways within the prison to infiltrate the unsuspecting town, their larger compatriots stood ready at the southern gate, awaiting the signal from the infiltrators to launch their surprise attack. Each step was taken with the utmost stealth and precision, ensuring that not a soul within the town would be alerted to the impending doom that awaited them.

Tragically, the innocent inhabitants of the town, both young and old, remained ignorant of the massacre that was to befall them. They feared the undead, not realising that the true creeping despair was much closer than they could have ever imagined.

For Sylvester, this was not a matter of personal animosity towards the inhabitants of the town but simply the ruthless reality of war, where In the lord's name—all is fair game.

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