I Became The Pope, Now What?-Novel

The necromancer woke up soon after as he healed up with the help of the solarium crystals. He looked scared, first of all, and that required some time to fix. They had to bring him some real food and calming potions to ease him.

When he finally looked healthy enough to talk, Sylvester returned to speak to him, this time ensuring that nobody listened in on him by placing Sir Dolorem, Felix, and Gabriel as guards outside.

Sylvester also shared his church identification papers, first revealing he was a Sanctum Inspector. "Tell me why you're here and what happened to you."

"Ah, you're the new boy everyone is talking about? I heard a lot about you, young bard." The man spoke up, his voice appearing to have a hint of whistling whispers for some reason, creating an aura of mystery around him.

"I am Bishop Lazark Kul Mizar, a member of the clergy for decades now. I was not sent here originally; in fact, I've been out on a mission for over three months now. Beyond the mountains south of this town, there is a village.

"We received a report from a few traders that the entire village was empty, and the people just disappeared somehow. No matter how much they looked, there was none to be seen anywhere. Eventually, the local Archbishop of the County sent men to search, but when they also vanished, the task was given to the Sanctum Inspectors."

'A north-western name? Is he from Felix's county?' Sylvester recognized the styling of the name, which went much differently from the rest of the southern kingdoms.

Sylvester nodded and took a seat beside him. He felt no lies coming from the man, and he could understand why. One Sanctum Inspector could somewhat trust another because it was in their rulebook to help each other in need. The end goal was to finish the task, that's all.

"I am Priest Sylvester Maximilian, and they are my team. Where is your team, Bishop Lazark?" Sylvester asked him.

At that, Bishop Lazark seemed embarrassed. "That… I still have not found my team, Priest. You see, although the Dark aspect of magic is not criminalized and is seen as nothing but another branch of magic, people still hold some prejudice against it. Even more so for someone who is an expert necromancer.

"So, even after trying hard, nobody agreed to join me on my team, and since then, the dead have been my teammates."

'I honestly feel bad for this guy.' Sylvester pitied the man.

"What are you here for?" The man asked.

Sylvester talked about his mission too. "I think both our missions are somewhat the same. I was sent here to find out why the town had so many demon possessions. Later I found out that it was not demon possession but instead a mental illness that was maddening the people and making it seem like they were possessed.

"Can you elaborate on your findings of the village and how you found yourself here?"

Bishop Lazark nodded and told his whole story about the lengthy investigation. "Just reaching the village's location was hard for me as no carriage would agree to go there, and the traders don't use that route either. But, eventually, when I arrived at the Foothill village, it was emptier than the roads of Sorrow.

"I looked around to find any sign of life or movement. But soon I realized that the village had been empty for longer than anybody estimated as there was a lot of dust on everything.

"Still, I decided to look around. But, just after spending one night in the village, I felt that my behavior was changing too much. I am usually a very calm and collected man, but for some reason, I started to become angry at everything, cursing and being outright disgusting.

"As soon as I realized these changes, I tried to find a reason why. That was when I felt that there was something wrong with the water from the wells I was drinking from. Because the moment I stopped drinking water from there, I started to feel normal. So, I theorized that something similar must have happened to the people of the village, and that night, I used necromancy to raise all the dead from the ground.

"Sure enough, hundreds upon hundreds of skeletons rose from the ground."

Sylvester rubbed his chin and thought about the wells in this town. "They died because of the water?"

"No! They all killed themselves." Bishop Lazark claimed. "Since I am an expert on skeletons, I can tell just by a look how that person died. And from my evaluation of them, it was clear that blunt force was used on all of them. The water in the wells turned the villagers mad to the point where they turned on themselves. And, likely, a sandstorm came a few days later, pushing the bodies down into the desert grounds.

"My task was yet to finish, however. Hence I went out to find the reason for this mutation due to the water… and I realized the water in wells came from an underground river that flowed from the mountains to the north."

'Ah, I think I know where this is going now.' Sylvester knew what must have happened once the necromancer talked about the mountains.

And sure enough, Sylvester smelled much fear in the necromancer, a combination he never expected to see. But the eyes of the man made it clear that he went through hell to survive.

"I entered the mountains north of the village with care. I was already told by the traders that a strange, purple, toxic miasma mist had taken over the valleys. So I used my toxin mask to keep myself safe and entered.

"It was hard to even see amidst all that mist, but thanks to magic, I used the air element to make way, stopping after every few meters to check the flow of the underground river by trying to summon skeletons of river creatures.

"It was tedious work, but I was making progress, and slowly I was reaching the center of the strange purple mist—a grave mistake—as it all went to hell from there. Horror… the worst of the kind that you can ever imagine… huge and so powerful my spells were merely smacked away, and being a dark wizard, I was at a disadvantage."

Bishop Lazark looked at his palm as he felt utterly weak and useless. "The creature had minions as well, small and similar to snakes… I didn't see it clearly, but the creature's eyes shined even in the thick mist. All it took to bring me down to heel was a gust of wind from the creature that contained a thousand cuts. My leg was injured by it… but who knows for how long the creature was there, as I was able to raise the dead from the deep sand around it.

"More than ten thousand skeletons rose from the sand, but I still could not do anything other than use those skeletons as shields for my own escape. It was mayhem as I could not see anything due to the dense mist akin to darkness. But, the little snake-like minions chased me, tripped me, and tried to strangle my neck.

"That place… Priest… It's hell! I was somehow able to cross the mountain range and arrive here, on the other side of the mountains. I felt vulnerable there… utterly powerless—I know, I am ashamed of my cowardice."

'This mad man!' Sylvester could imagine the whole situation playing out in his head as he tried to put himself in the man's shoes, as he had experienced a Bloodling before. And the fact that this man came out alive, all alone, when the Bloodling had minions too… It was nothing less than a testament to his prowess.

In Sylvester's eyes, he had nothing but admiration for this man. "No, Bishop, you are one of the strongest wizards I've known. The thing you survived was not just another creature of the night, but a Bloodling!"

"A bloodling? I'm afraid I've only heard about them, so I don't know too much. Ah! If I remember correctly, you were involved with one incident before, correct?"

Sylvester nodded. "I was nine back then and barely survived the encounter. That bloodling—even Archbishop-ranked clergy died at its hands. Only when the Inquisitor High Lord came could the creature be killed. By the way, may I know if you found this Bloodling inside a cave?"

"No, it was in the open, in the middle of the mountains—the deepest valley is its home."

Sylvester took a sigh of relief hearing that. Since that whole debacle years ago, he had somewhat of a dislike for all kinds of caves. Even if well lit, he would not like to go inside them.

Bishop Lazark sighed suddenly. "Lord Inquisitor could kill it, so it was impossible for me to kill it?"

"I don't know. Maybe you didn't have the right tools for it. For example, their greatest bane is light magic, and you being a necromancer, it was impossible to do. Like it's impossible for me to do dark magic."

The man didn't feel right to hear him speak about the cave like this. "Don't tell me you're going in there.,"

Sylvester stood up as it was time to go and work. "I won't… at least not for now. My first duty is to the people, and I will try to heal them as quickly as possible. There has to be a reason why the madness of the mist is affecting the people here since the wind and the water don't flow in this direction in front of the mountains."

"You can't win against it, Priest. The thing is too strong, not to mention you can not see there."

Sylvester let the healers enter. "Last time I was a child and naive, I didn't have any plans and went in there ill-prepared. This time, I will be ready with the right things to give that creature hell. Don't forget, Bishop Lazard, I am also the bard of the lord… for that creature, my light is nothing less than the sharpest sword.

"Please have a rest here and try to recuperate." Sylvester patted the man's shoulder. 'You'll be going with me eventually.'

Bishop Lazark nodded and saw Sylvester leave in silence. But, a sudden frown came upon his pale face soon after. "Why did I feel the same coldness from him as my old master?"

…

Sylvester and the rest then left the healing station to do their work. But as they went, they were confronted by a guard. "Priest, you have been called by Sir Holand to the fruit district—urgently."

"What's the matter? Did something happen?" Sylvester asked, somewhat relaxed now as he felt the mysteries were slowly unfurling to him, and he was reaching the end of his assignment. As for the Bloodling, he honestly didn't have any wish to go there unless absolutely necessary. Instead, he could return to the Holy Land and inform the higher-ups about it.

"There has been another demon-possessed… a real one."

"..."

Sylvester stopped in his path, looked at his own hands, the various lines on his palm, and wondered. 'Which one of you fuckers is responsible for my misery?'

Meanwhile, behind Sylvester, Felix was doing the same, while Gabriel and Sir Dolorem also looked at their palms but didn't know what to think.

Sylvester sighed and walked forward as he looked at the sky. "Is it my luck, or is the world just too crazy?"

"It's the profession." Sir Dolorem corrected.

'Why? Why couldn't you adopt me faster, King Highland… I could have been a rich fat prince right now.'

Pat!

Miraj suddenly patted his head with his paws.

That made Sylvester chuckle. 'Instead, a magical cat adopted me—can't really complain here.'

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