I Became The Pope, Now What?

Sylvester watched as the long convoy of soldiers went past him towards the Inquisitor Camp. Though he also hurried as he saw Inquisitor High Lord's carriage battered for some reason.

'What happened to them? I don't remember there being news of any big war.'

He waited until the convoy had moved and then rushed to the camp. He saw all the Inquisitors running into the camp and disappearing, so he waited a little before approaching the gates.

"May the Holy Light enlighten us!" He greeted the guards at the gates and entered swiftly.

He went directly to find Sir Dolorem in the man's tent. But he was stopped as some Inquisitors saw him and requested him to come over to help the wounded as there were too many of them and few healers.

Sylvester relented and went to help. It was an open area where many Inquisitors rested on the ground on many makeshift beds. They all had wounds and blood-covered bodies. It all appeared more clear now as the armours were taken off. Some had lost arms and legs, and some had burn wounds on their bodies.

"Sylvester, thank you for coming." Lady Aurora was there too, as she tried to help a few senior Inquisitors.

Sylvester came over to help with his healing magic, which was very basic but appreciable. "What happened? Was there a war?"

"No." Lady Aurora sighed before replying. "It's a bloodling, Sylvester. Lord Inquisitor and his army of Inquisitors have been running around the entire Sol for the past few months, killing all reported Bloodlings. However, it's being observed that the number of bloodlings is increasing exponentially. From just a little over a thousand, it has reached the astronomical number of over twelve thousand. All these Inquisitors and Lord Inquisitors fought them non-stop for too long, resulting in this."

Sylvester wondered something. "But, if they are all so bloodied, did they meet some bloodling that's too strong?"

"Yes, this time it was a mind-manipulating bloodling whose size was no larger than a rat. It made all the Inquisitors fight each other, and only Lord Inquisitor was unharmed enough to look for the little filth."

Sylvester was not surprised that such a thing could exist. He knew there were worse horrors out there, perhaps in the sea that he had not yet seen.

"How is the Lord Inquisitor?" He asked.

"Angry, enraged and perhaps tired. He may look invincible, but there is still a human behind that mask." Aurora sounded a bit sad, worried for her father.

'What's the most effective way of killing a Bloodling?' Sylvester wondered. 'It will become a huge problem if this isn't solved fast. The Bloodlings are all too strong, and we don't have enough experts to handle them all. And if they keep increasing like this...'

"Light magic is the most effective against the Bloodlings, but we don't have enough Light Wizards," Sylvester commented. "Why not make a weapon that uses Light Crystals? Like a cannon, perhaps. The real issue in dealing with a bloodling is that going close to it is often too dangerous. So why not look for a ranged attack."

Aurora bobbed her head and moved on to the other patient. "Who said they have not tried? They just don't know how to make the light strong enough that it hurts the creature. Just putting the light crystals in the cannon does not work."

'Sadly, I can't help in this department.' Sylvester backed off and let the experts do their job.

Stopping their discussion, Sylvester focused on helping the Inquisitors for a few hours. However, there was not much he could do, so he finally went to find Sir Dolorem. The man was blind but still helped around as much as he could.

So Sylvester took him to the side and revealed the great news. "Sir Dolorem, it's time I kept the promise I made to you. I have found a way to get your eyes back, even better eyes, in fact."

Sir Dolorem appeared taken aback. "I... This is too soon, I thought I'd take years, and I've gotten used to not having eyes."

Sylvester smiled, knowing the man would have said this. "Well, how could I let my most loyal Knight have any kind of a handicap? We have a long way to go and much to do. With the new eyes and your current abilities to sense things, you will become unstoppable -- Not to mention, the eyes I'm giving you are special."

Sir Dolorem, being an intelligent man, knew what Sylvester was talking about. "Duke's eyes? But don't you want them? They are too precious."

"My golden eyes are more precious to me than those. Anyway, I just came here to inform you about this and speak with the Lord Inquisitor about something. But it seems he is too busy right now and tired. So I will go and meet the Pope instead."

"I can speak with Sir Hans. He may be able to get you to the Lord Inquisitor quickly." Sir Dolorem offered.

Sylvester got up to leave. "No, let him rest. I will speak with the Holy Father and get what I need. I will notify you when everything is ready.

After that, Sylvester left the Inquisitor Camp and headed to the Pope's Palace. It was not too far away, nor was there anything eventful on the way. He climbed the tall stairs, met with the guards, and headed to the Pope's office directly.

"Lord Bard! Please wait for a few minutes. His Holiness is currently busy meeting envoy from The Patch," Gunter, the Pope's assistant, informed him.

Sylvester's interest was piqued. He did not know much about The Patch as it was not an old creation. All he knew was that the Grand Duke of The Patch rebelled against the King of Sorrow Kingdom and cut a big chunk of the Sorrow Kingdom for himself. Sadly, that small chunk also held all of Sorrow Kingdom's cultivable land and natural resources.

"Why are they here?" Sylvester inquired.

Assistant Gunter relaxed in his chair. "I'm not sure, but they likely want His Holiness' support to their official claim for the Sorrow Kingdom so the Grand Duke could officially appoint himself as the King."

'Hah, they can only dream of having that. Grandpa Monk died while trying to stop The Patch from plundering the Sorrow Kingdom any further and hurting common people. I'm sure the Pope would rather destroy The Patch than bless it.'

"What about you, Gunther? How are you these days?" Sylvester asked, having gotten close to the assistant on many occasions.

"Ah, too much work these days. After you cleared off the Northern Mountains, a new issue arose. Nobody knows who owns that land, and the Duke of Normani and the Duchess of Iceling now lay claim to the east side, while Masan claims the west side. There is too much paperwork and record keeping." Gunter answered as he pointed to a huge metal locker behind his chair.

Sylvester rubbed his chin and thought about the prospects. "The Holy Land should claim the entire region since it was I who freed it, and it was Winter Ghost who kept the west side safe, with the Last Monastery. We have occupied the region longer than any kingdom or Duke. Perhaps, offering a deal to these nobles for the natural resources while we keep the land is better."

Gunter started scratching his head and wondered if that was possible. "Hmm... perhaps if his Holiness does it, we can have this outcome. The Duchess of Iceling is willing to give up if the Duke of Normani does the same. Ugh... The politics gives me a headache."

Sylvester chuckled. "I share the same feeling, Gunther."

Clack!

The door to the Pope's office opened just then, and came out two old men in regal gowns that only a wealthy noble could wear.

'Hah, I smell the anger, sadness, anxiety and hatred... It seems they have failed, but we must be careful about their hatred.'

"You may go in, Lord Bard." Gunter alerted him.

Sylvester quickly fixed his robes and entered the office. He saw the Pope sitting behind the table with a big smile on his face.

The man greeted Sylvester enthusiastically. "Young Bard, come here and take a seat. I have much to speak to you about. But first, let's hear about your business -- What new miracle will you show me to heal some filthy sickness?"

Sylvester held back his chuckle as he did come to talk about healing an illness. So he put forth a folder of papers and showed the plans.

"Your Holiness, I come here today concerning something I've been doing for a while. With Healer Hendrix, I was researching eyes, and finally, we have found a way to transplant eyes. Meaning we can give a blind man the eyes of someone else. However, we need to conduct some human experiments now, and for that, we need some test subjects." Sylvester explained everything.

The Pope seriously looked at the documents as he rubbed his long beard. "You have filed for a patent? I don't think this will be good for humanity."

"It's an open patent, Your Holiness. I only wish Healer Hendrix and I could get the credit for our work. There is no gatekeeping or price if someone else wishes to learn and perform it." He clarified.

Satisfied with his words, the Pope started writing on parchment and finally stamped his seal. "I'm allowing you to take as many heathens as you need that currently wait for a death sentence in our prison. This should be enough?"

"More than enough, Your Holiness."

After that, the Pope stood up and walked toward the door. "Now, for the part that I wished to discuss. Follow me, Young Bard. We have somewhere important to be."

Without asking any questions, Sylvester followed the Pope out of the Palace and joined him in the modest carriage to the Administrative Building. There, they went to the lower floors and arrived outside the gates of a giant arena.

'Wait, isn't this the Council room?' Sylvester recognised the place, and some hope rose in his heart.

The Pope led the way, and soon Sylvester saw the entire Supreme Council gathered inside around the huge round table with a hollow middle part. Most had conflicted faces, and the scent told Sylvester that he was not welcome there.

Yet, the Pope took his seat, and Sylvester silently stood in the middle, empty part of the table so all Cardinals could see him and ask him questions.

'Alright, here comes the questions. Let's hope I can become a Bishop.' Sylvester was prepared.

But what happened was beyond belief as he silently watched the face of the Pope and the other Cardinals in confusion.

The Pope voiced aloud. "The time has come to cast a vote. We shall start where we left off yesterday. All in favour of Young Bard's promotion, raise your hands."

The Pope, the Sanctum Council and the two Cardinals that Sylvester supported raised their hands instantly. Following them, the somewhat neutral ones raised their arms, and finally, those against Sylvester also raised their hands while clenching their jaws.

Bam!

The Pope cheerfully slapped the table and announced. "With Thirty-Two to zero, the proposal is passed, and Archpriest Sylvester Maximilian is granted the double promotion to the Rank of Archbishop!"

"..."

"What?"

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