I Became The Pope, Now What?-Novel



Sylvester and Felix hastened towards the East gate, drawn by the sound of bells ringing from that direction. Upon their arrival, Sylvester caught sight of the famed army of Sandwall County, equipped and armed to depart from the gates.

They didn't use any horses, nor did they keep any shields on them. Instead, most of them carried a single sword, but some had twin axes or swords. Some were even wearing light leather armor. It was a strange mixture, but at the same time, Sylvester smelled something much more peculiar. 

'Scent of love and lust—Do they really crave violence this much?' Sylvester wondered and followed Felix to fight as well. 

As they emerged outside the gates onto an already bloodied field of sand, Sylvester witnessed the well-ordered and disciplined fury of the army, despite their frenzied appearance. Not one soldier broke ranks, rapidly forming their formation upon reaching the open field.

Sylvester stayed at the back and noticed everything. He wanted to see how the Sandwall soldiers fought, and what made them so famous across the continent. How did they defend against the Cannibals and Barbarians for so many centuries? 

"Wraaaaa!" 

In the heart of a vast sandy expanse, the sun burned mercilessly upon the arid land. Two forces soon stood ready to clash: a disciplined, valiant army of five hundred and a horde of two thousand savage barbarians. The air was thick with tension, as the wind carried the scent of sweat and anticipation.

"Prepare!" Sir Gavric, the army commander, raised his sword high, signaling the men to form ranks. 

Instantly, all Sandwall knights unsheathed their swords and stood firm. Arrayed in gleaming armor, the knights and archers at the rear drew their longbows. The air shimmered with a barely noticeable hum as the enchantments cast by the army's wizards took effect.

"Haaaaaa!"

"Aooo! Aooo!" 

Roaring and howling, the barbarians surged forward like a raging tide of fury. Their leather, fur, and iron equipment stood in stark contrast to the shining armor of their adversaries. But every cannibal bore a grim, bloodthirsty expression, their eyes brimming with lust for plunder.

"Loose!"

As the distance between the two forces closed, the sky darkened with the flight of arrows as Sir Gavric ordered the archers to release the burning arrows. 

The hail of arrows quickly hit their targets, and each one erupted in a brilliant flash of light upon impact. The barbarians, dazed and disoriented, stumbled and fell to the ground. The arrows had pierced their eyes, heads, chests, and legs, enveloping them in flames. 

Weak and undisciplined, they writhed in agony, reaching out to their nearest comrade for help or simply rolling on the ground, only to perish in flames.

Seizing the opportunity, the army's wizards raised their arms to the heavens. A sudden gust of wind swept through the battlefield, and giant white rune circles appeared above each wizard. A fierce gale of wind began to spread, gradually taking the shape of sandy tornadoes, which advanced toward the horde of cannibals. 

But that was not all; the second group of wizards utilized Earth magic. The sand beneath the barbarians' feet shifted and churned, and the once-solid ground became treacherous and unstable.

Sir Gavric then moved forward, his voice booming across the battlefield. "Charge!"

With a thunderous roar, the Sandwall army surged forward, brandishing their swords, spears, and axes at the forefront. When they were close enough, they launched their weapons at the cannibals, effectively destroying the enemy's first line of offense.

Afterward, the soldiers drew their secondary weapons and rushed in, leaving a trail of blood as they moved to retrieve their previous weapons. Each man in the Sandwall army was like a killing machine with heightened senses. They instinctively knew where the enemy's strike was coming from and parried it with ease.

Cannibals had no chance of doing anything. Heads rolled, limbs severed, and blood sprayed the ground with even more crimson. As if rejoicing in the blood sacrifice, the sand glowed further red. 

"The one who collects the most Cannibal scraps will receive ten Gold Graces from the Lord!" Sir Gavric bellowed as he cut down a few barbarians. It was a classic case of quality versus quantity, as the cannibals, despite their superior numbers, could not make a dent.

Boom!

eαglesnᴏνel But just then, a giant golden beam of blinding light appeared out of nowhere and tunneled through the raging crowd of more cannibals in the distance, instantly pulverizing them into thin air. 

The knights turned their heads and saw Sylvester's illuminated figure with a halo behind his head. Instantly, as if reinvigorated, they began to roar and kill even more ferociously.

"SOLIS IS WITH US!" They screamed. 

Sylvester chuckled and stopped. "How could I be last in their competition?"

Felix scoffed and ran into the battlefield. "I will win. Mark my words!"

And so, the chaos further increased since Felix's knight rank was quite high. The Cannibals, although having some wizards among them, could do nothing but die.

In the carnage that lasted just twenty minutes, all two thousand cannibals were killed, and all five hundred Knights of the Sandwall survived with minor injuries. Not even tired, they began to count the barbarian scalps they had collected and showed them to their commander to be recorded.

'They have certainly mastered the way of dealing with cannibals.' Sylvester felt astonished. 'With rewards, they will gladly fight and give their all.'

"Sylvester! Look, I killed twenty of them even when I joined the last!" Felix came back shouting and cheering.

'This makes no sense.' Sylvester mumbled to himself. 

"Has this always been the case? How are they so easy to kill?" Sylvester asked him. "How are there so many of them living in the Divine Desert?"

"Oh, there are hundreds of different tribes of cannibals," Felix explained. "The biggest tribes, called the Big Three, are extremely hard to deal with, and we lost many of our soldiers in battles with them. The likes of what we saw today are from smaller and weaker tribes. The thing is, since the Divine Desert is vast and living conditions are so harsh, all the tribes keep moving as per the weather patterns. So, we never know which tribe is attacking us."

'Interesting. The tomes in the Holy Land only talk about their culture, but Sandwall County seems to hold deeper knowledge of them.'

"Who are the biggest tribes, and how formidable are they?" Sylvester asked him for more information.

Felix put one arm around Sylvester's shoulder and began to walk. "Let's head to the castle while I explain. You see, the Big Three consists of the Red Foot Tribe, consisting of nearly three hundred thousand people. Flying Scaps is another one and has around two hundred thousand people. As for the biggest one, the Black Blood, they number somewhere around four hundred thousand. Yes, they are massive, and that's why Sandwall County is respected, for we have fended off against them in the past."

"Why do they even attack? What is there to gain? They can simply move further south into Gracia or other kingdoms," Sylvester asked.

"Hah, they tried once. I think this happened nearly a thousand years ago when a cannibal tribe snaked into Gracia. They tried to blend in, but old habits die hard. They ended up eating an entire town, which angered the Holy Land. So a decently-sized campaign was launched in which they not only killed all the members of the tribe but also went into the outskirts of the Divine Desert and slaughtered any tribe they found, massacring tens of thousands of them but leaving a few alive to tell the warning tale."

'But this still doesn't explain their huge population.' Sylvester could not simply believe there was nothing more to the game than what meets the eye. He had been warned by the Warsong Queen regent already, so he tried to keep his mind open to all possibilities.

"We're here. Don't bother with what my father says if he says something offensive. Consider him a fool." Felix reminded Sylvester as they walked into the castle grounds.

'Is he a fool?' Sylvester disagreed with Felix's statement, knowing it was fueled by personal hatred. 'A man who can manage such a strong army and defenses can be anything but a fool. But I hope he's not too prideful.' 

"Let's get everything done here quickly. I must return to the Holy Land later and participate in the war planning." Sylvester reminded his friend in case he became too comfortable. 

…

War was not only a heated topic in Sol but also in Beastaria, as it was the other concerned party involved. The Dragons, the Dwarves, and especially the Elves were all deeply concerned about it.

A meeting of all the elders was called in High Ragnum, the seat of the Elven King in the Kingdom of Alfia. With stoic and frowning faces, the ten elders gathered in the King's palace. All the Elves had different features: some had long hair, some had short hair, some had white skin, and some had brown skin. A few had particularly long ears, while some had short ones. But they were all old and yet looked nothing more than their prime. 

"Elders, I believe you have already heard about the situation," Rathagun Xeek Eldaron, the King, spoke to his council with respect and a sense of urgency. His deep gray eyes flickered with a hint of worry as he articulated while gesturing with his hands.

"We have," an elder from the Fire Elves said. "Your Majesty, what is the response from the Dragons of the Greenpeaks?"

Rathagun shook his head. "Same as us. They, too, have no plans to launch a war with Sol. Both of us are reeling with the aftereffects of our war and have no resources to spare to spend on Sol." 

The Elder of the Tree Elves started. "Then why did the noble Divine Dragons go there? What kind of calamity could befall Sol that would prompt such a reaction from them? It ought to be on a scale similar to the thousand-year war."

Rathagun agreed. "I have the same questions, Elder. That is why I have decided to visit the Whiskeypeak Mountains and meet with the Divine Dragons. We must know what threatens to doom Sol."

"Knowing this can be beneficial to us," a Water Elf Elder added, smiling wickedly. "If Sol faces a calamity and weakens, we can spare some resources to deliver the death blow."

"Agreed." 

"For this, all species shall willingly join us." 

All the elders agreed to the plan immediately, but they failed to notice the hidden worries that consumed their King from within. All he could do was smile while his mind swiveled with thoughts and prayers to Goddess Remira.

'Please be careful, my son.'

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