I Became The Pope, Now What?-Novel

The following day, Sylvester awoke to find Miraj sleeping on his forehead, drooling and snoring to his heart's content. Sylvester learned a valuable lesson and decided never to let him sleep so close again.

After washing his face, donning his clergyman robes, and placing his mitre on his head, he headed to the dining hall for breakfast. Everyone was already seated around the large table, chatting and looking ready to start their respective workdays.

"Good morning," Sylvester greeted Felix as he sat beside him. "How was your night? I hope sleeping on the hard floor wasn't too bothersome."

Felix coughed out his tea. "What? No, no… It was actually quite comfortable. I wish I could sleep on your floor forever."

Sylvester scoffed. "I would have allowed it if you didn't get up so often to drink water."

"Pfft! Stop teasing them now," Aurora interjected suddenly. "Look at them getting red like tomatoes."

Sylvester was more focused on Aurora. "How did you know?"

"I am a Grand Wizard, and I can even sense it in my sleep when doors open and close around me. This isn't the first time either, as the window is also used sometimes. Felix is quite a scandalous boy," Aurora divulged a secret no one knew.

"What are you talking about?" Xavia asked, looking puzzled. "Did something happen last night?"

"I need to go and train!" Felix exclaimed as he leaped to his feet.

"I must get to my classes on time," Isabella added as she rushed out with Felix.

"Oh!" Xavia realized their behavior just then. "Heh… Youngsters."

Chuckling, Sylvester rose to his feet and headed towards the door. "I must report to the Sanctum Council, so I must depart. Mum, please return early this evening. I will be holding a gathering on the terrace."

After he left, Xavia muttered something to herself and stood up. "He has grown so much in the past eight months."

"Anyone would after staying in the Sorrow Kingdom," Aurora added. "The misery and poverty of the people there can change one's outlook on life merely by looking at it. But he's been remarkably wise for his age from the start."

"That's why I worry for him. I'm… I'm an ordinary woman with little magic in me, Aurora. Meanwhile, he will be a Supreme Wizard and live for centuries to come. I fear for his sanity after I'm gone. I'm his only family, and the laws of the Church prohibit him from…"

Aurora concurred. "He has no choice but to remain in the clergy."

Xavia turned to her, perplexed. "Can't he remain as a soldier of the Holy Army or Inquisitor? Must he be a celibate clergyman?"

"Xavia, consider the Church's standpoint. Is there a more suitable candidate than him for the position of the Pope? Someone more powerful, blessed, and beloved than him? No, there isn't."

Xavia slumped her shoulders and sat back down on her chair, feeling anguished. "Then, he will have to fight constantly for the position and 'maybe' become the Pope in old age? This means he's damned to eternal solitude."

"I don't know, Xavia. Everything is so uncertain with Sylvester… His ascent is too swift… Unnaturally quick… Ah, I must depart as well…"

…

As Sylvester rode his horse towards the Pope's Palace, he noticed something peculiar. Clergymen, from the lowest ranks to even Cardinals, stopped in their tracks to greet him with their heads bowed low. It was an unusual greeting that almost felt like they were saluting their superior.

The scene didn't change even as he arrived at the Pope's Palace. There, the Cardinals and everyone else stopped to greet him.

'They all seem to worship me. I can sense it through the scents. I can sense it through their mannerisms. It appears my actions and the subsequent propaganda spread by my loyal bards have borne fruit. The paradigm shift is clear, and they are now beginning to believe that taking my side can help them in the long run.'

"Your Grace, the Council is in session. Please wait here. They will summon you shortly." Gunther, the Pope's secretary, behaved more formally than ever before.

Sylvester waited silently. He had not brought Miraj with him, as the Pope could detect him in the enclosed room. So, he gazed at the walls and ceiling.

"Wait! Is that my portrait on the wall?" Sylvester pointed to a framed painting just outside the Pope's office door on the left. "Why am I depicted slaying a dragon?"

Gunther chuckled. "His Holiness painted it himself, saying it was only a matter of time before it became a reality. He was too proud of your accomplishments, so he hung it on the wall as a display."

'So that's where all those rumors of me slaying a dragon came from? Why is the Pope doing all of this? I'm too young, and he's nowhere near his retirement age. Why is he helping me win over people?' Sylvester pondered silently. He knew the Pope was a complex man with many hidden motives that he couldn't fathom.

He also knew that the man would likely kill him instantly if he proved to be more of a liability than an asset. Thus, the love and care he received were merely superficial.

'Is his support for me only because he dislikes the other options?' Sylvester pondered.

Bzzz!

Suddenly, a small bell chimed on Gunther's desk. "You may enter, Lord Bard," he announced.

Sylvester adjusted his miter and strode in with a tall posture. He opened the door, took a final glance at the portrait, and stepped inside.

Clap!

Clap!

As soon as he entered, he was met by all seven members of the Sanctum Council, standing and applauding him. Their faces wore smiles, and an air of pride emanated from them.

"You have made us proud, young bard," spoke the Pope. "From the Sorrow Kingdom to Gracia, we have heard nothing but praise for you. From knights to barons, from Dukes to Kings, all have expressed a desire for your presence in their lands, for they wish to be graced by your presence."

"Indeed," added Saint Seer, the Chief Spymaster. "Even the commoners invoke your name for good fortune now that you have invented a cure for the plague. Meanwhile, the Slaves of Riveria appear to have made you their patron saint."

Lastly, the Inquisitor High Lord, concealed behind a red visor, spoke in his typical fanatic tone. "Sinners, whether noble or not, you have vanquished them all in your travels. You have crushed all heathens as if they were nothing but tiny pebbles. The word 'pride' does not do justice to your name. But I pray, may the heathens forever burn in your flame!"

"Amen," said Saint Wazir. "Please take a seat, Lord Bard. We have a lot to discuss, and we may even have to have lunch and dinner here as well."

"Proceed, my boy," chirped the Pope, his excitement evident on his face. "Tell us everything about your travels from beginning to end."

Thankfully, Sylvester had prepared a sheet of bullet points to ensure he wouldn't forget any details. However, he had to recount it all orally, as there was no way he could have written the thousands of pages-long reports.

Sylvester began his report. "Until we arrived in the Sorrow Kingdom, we saw nothing of note. But when we reached the village called Last Hay, we met the late Archbishop Nelson, and from then on, everything came to our attention. The plague..."

Sylvester revealed everything, omitting only a few personal details. He recounted the first case of the plague, the first encounter with the Widowmakers, and their arrival in the Wailing City.

He also recounted his journey to the Highland Kingdom to mediate the Slave Rebellion and slay Sir Dolorem's family's killers.

In the midst of the meeting, Sylvester was sometimes asked to provide further elaboration on certain situations. Nonetheless, he spoke continuously for the most part. Eventually, they took their lunch in the same room, and things resumed until dinnertime, also held in the council room.

Finally, when midnight arrived, Sylvester completed his lengthy report. At that point, many faces exhibited contentment, concern, and shock.

"This was not an easy assignment," the Pope exclaimed aloud. "I dispatched you to aid the poor and evaluate the situation, yet you were drawn into something much more substantial. Despite the odds being stacked against you, you attained victory. It is disrespectful to call it a miracle when it is your hard work earned from blood, sweat, and tears. However, why did you kill the two Void Keepers?"

Sylvester anticipated this question, so he had previously omitted some details. "Your Holiness, would you not be angered if someone killed me? Your disciple?"

"I would be furious," replied the Pope.

Sylvester nodded. "Then they had every right to be dead. Spine poisoned me while we were staying there and urged me to step down and flee. She disclosed that there was another person within the clergy who was more qualified to become the next Pope. Not only she, but her entire group seems to have pledged allegiance to that person.

"Additionally, she showed me an illusion of what she did in Sphinx Town. She revealed how she and her accomplices burned my disciple while he cried out in agony! They do not serve the Church! They serve someone else within the walls of this Holy Land. Together, they continue to spread their filth and mock our genuine worship! They deserve to be kill—"

"Enough!" The Pope interrupted him. "We understand. We will investigate the matter later, and whoever is plotting to become the next Pope while I am still alive will be dealt with."

Sylvester observed the Pope's expressions and emotions. He had deliberately displayed an outburst of anger earlier to get a reaction.

"He appears surprisingly silent about my revelation. It's as if...he already knows who is the mastermind behind these Void Keepers...But then, why isn't he doing something?"

"Young Bard," the Pope addressed him as he stood up. "It's late at night, so we should conclude this meeting. But before that, for your exceptional service, I have decided to grant you whatever you desire. So speak, and make a wish."

Sylvester already knew what he wanted.

"Your Holiness and respected Council, firstly, I want a six-month leave to train with my team. Then I wish to be given what I was refused in the Sorrow Kingdom. I wish to be made a Cardinal Suprima of one Duchy in Gracia." Sylvester requested. "I want to govern the Duchy of Normani, reinforce its defenses against Masan, and aid their resources search in the North. Furthermore, I want to assist them in combating Desert Cannibals, as I have heard those heathens have become increasingly daring now."

Saint Wazir provided clarification on the status of Normani to the Pope. "Your Holiness, the once-in-a-century festival of Desert Cannibals is approaching, which explains the increased activity. Therefore, sending Lord Bard may be the best option to prepare the Duchy for the grander invasions."

The Pope nodded and walked over to Sylvester, patting his shoulder. "I hoped you would be selfish with your wish, yet you proved me wrong. Very well, I shall grant it."

With that, the Pope left the office, and Sylvester rejoiced silently. After all, his final plan for securing another strong ally was supposed to be in the Duchy of Normani. He remembered the daughter of Duke Normani, the tanned beauty Lady Bethany. She wanted his help in her battle of succession in return for her unwavering support for him, given that she was on the verge of becoming a Grand Wizard.

'With her, I will have a total of six Grand Wizards and one Supreme Wizard aligned with me — This should be more than enough to begin my final battle for the throne.'

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