I Became The Pope, Now What?

Eventually, the day finally came when Sylvester had to return to his home, the Holy Land. The newly built Storst Town had developed very well, and the basic industries, such as fishing, had already been set. Nevertheless, it was essential to ensure that the people of the town didn't feel hopeless and were forced to take the wrong and destructive paths.

After a major event in which Sylvester organised to officially declare the people of the town as believers of Solis and ensuring that any voice of opposition was swiftly silenced, the situation was very much favourable to him.

Furthermore, the inspectors from the Holy Land had already come and seen everything. The Sanctum Inspectors ensured that the people were in the right camp and didn't hold any negative thoughts about the Holy Land.

Sylvester also met with the Duchess for the last time as she came to see him. He knew she would need to train her children well for the task of ruling the Duchy, or else everything would fall apart.

"Thanks to the battle, the Prima of your Duchy had an 'accident' and died, along with all his supporters. So now, you are in a unique situation with absolute power, and I will only pray to the lord that you succeed in everything, your grace."

Duchess saluted him back formally. "Lord Bard, I, my sons and their next generations will never forget your blessing. I am indebted to you and forever will be. If there is ever something you require, please inform me. I will do everything in my power to help you."

'Good, that's what I wanted to hear.' Sylvester smelled the sincerity in her words and ensured to remember her.

"Then, I will take my leave, your grace. I will meet with Chief Koruk one last time so he remembers not to overreach his authority and end up fighting you." He cleared away the last of her worries and moved away.

He went to Chief Koruk's house and workspace and found the man sitting in his office room alone, writing something in the barbarian language. But there were also many books in the southern language, which made it clear that the man was trying his best to assimilate his people.

"From now on, this town is your responsibility, chief. I hope you make sure that your people don't do something unknowingly to the point that all of you have to pay the price." Sylvester straightforwardly advised Chief Koruk.

The old man, the chief, looked somewhat sad from what had transpired. His grandfather's grandfather had been the chief of Storst, and they never surrendered to the southerners. But he did, and he now felt ashamed to say he was one of them. But, in the end, all he wanted was the safety of his people.

Sylvester raised his voice gently and looked at the man intently. "Chief Koruk, you made the right decision. You are old anyway, so at least you have now ensured that the next generations of your people get to live and remember you."

"As the last chief, I'm afraid." Chief Koruk replied. "I'm quite sure there will never be another chief of Storst, as the rank is associated with 'barbarians'. You people only agreed to let me keep it due to my strength."

"That is why you must give your best to ensure that your people grow as fast as possible and as strong as possible while you're still alive. Because, remember, I have limited time and attention. The real hyenas will be unleashed once you're gone." Sylvester warned him, giving him another reason to keep on striving for a better future.

Chief Koruk spoke no more words, and he merely bobbed his head. It was impossible to know what the man was thinking, but the scents told he was sad and somewhat worried. Was he worried about his people or concerned that he made the wrong choice?

It was a conundrum that Sylvester had no time to explore anymore.

…

The very next day, a long convoy of soldiers prepared to move out quickly. The people of the Storst town gathered near the newly built walls of their town and waved their hands to bid farewell.

Sylvester stood atop Lady Aurora's carriage, waved his hand too, and shouted some graces for all.

"May you see nothing but peace and harmony for centuries to come."

A few faces seemed to be weeping from the fact that Sylvester was leaving them all. While some smiled because he visited them and showed them his miracles, some were lost, and some won; that was the story of Storst town.

"Let's move out now, Lady Aurora. Tell the soldiers at the front there is no need to escort us. Have them return to the Duchess and prepare for the mountain expeditions." Sylvester ordered firmly as the leader, although Lady Aurora was much higher in rank.

Lady Aurora did just that and sent all the soldiers away that blocked the road of her carriage. Then, she took the reins and gently whipped the horse to make them go fast. The snow had already melted for the most part, and the roads were once again open, so they moved quite fast.

Inside the cabin of the carriage, Sir Dolorem, Elyon, Bishop Lazark, Felix, and Gabriel sat talking and messing around. Meanwhile, Sylvester and Aurora sat together to be able to speak with each other privately.

"You certainly overachieved this time, Sylvester." Lady Aurora said while driving the carriage.

Sylvester scoffed and took the reins from her. "But now we have a bigger headache. We now know that Masan has twenty-five Grand Wizards, and now we know that Shadow of Masan will come out against us with all his might while utilising his main cards. We don't even know about his cards, which makes it so unpredictable."

Lady Aurora sighed and nodded in agreement. "You're right. The Masan having so many experts does pose a challenge for us. But, simultaneously, you fixed the problem of Mountain Barbarians for us and possibly made a new ally in the form of that mighty Emperor Lich. You were the brightest light that cleansed this whole region. If that's not overachieving, then what is?"

"Sadly, that is for the Supreme Council to decide," Sylvester replied in a somewhat mocking tone. "Will they allow me to rise to the rank of Bishop this time?"

"They must! Because by now, your name has spread everywhere, and the news of what transpired in the north is making its way through to the south. If they still don't promote you, they should be dealt with."

Sylvester didn't say anything about that. "I'd rather not jinx it. Let's move now. We should be reaching home faster with no snow on the road."

So without stopping, they travelled the whole way to the south and eventually circled around Pitfall Town, the home of Zeke once. Even now, it was a flourishing little town blessed with plentiful harvests every single year.

After the Pitfall town, the long lines of trees covered the sides of the road and announced that the lands of Baron Strongarm had started. The forest was losing the snow and showing its withered branches now. The road was empty, and still, a little bit of cold air was passing by.

But, when Sylvester looked to his left, at a great distance, he saw a mountain-like figure hidden in the clouds of mist. It was something he despised. He often wondered about the misery of those chained there. The Tower of Godless was the one place he was sure needed a Crusade and an Inquisition at the same time.

"Slave! Buy some slaves! Get yourselves some nice slaves!"

Sylvester looked ahead at the noise. The scenes appeared similar to what he had seen months ago. The same old roadside crowd was gathered before a stage on which a slavemaster was selling slaves. This was the same as the last time, the same old fat man selling slaves, some men, some women, some naked and some well dressed.

"Get the best slaves!"

"Unhand me, you buffoons! I shall not allow myself to be sold like this for a mere gold grace!"

Sylvester was attracted by that voice as he recognised it from the last time. It belonged to the slave who refused to be sold for a low price because he believed he was too valuable to be sold so cheaply.

"What's going on here?" Sylvester bellowed while sitting in the reinsman seat of the carriage. Following his voice, Felix and the rest also got out to see.

"Ah… Lord Bard, the saviour of the north, the bane of the undead and the evil!" The fat slave seller recognised Sylvester, and from what he said, it was apparent that the news of Sylvester's deeds had reached far and wide.

"You still haven't sold him?" Sylvester asked in a somewhat surprised voice.

The slave trader tried to make the most pitiful face while he sweated and rubbed his hands. "He just won't go, Lord Bard. What should I do with him? He attacks anyone that tries to buy him, and nobody wishes to own a slave that might one day slit their throats."

Sylvester glanced at the man and asked him directly. "Why do you think you should not be sold so cheaply? Are you a noble?"

"Aye! I am a high noble, for I am the youngest son of Viscount Lezworth. But I do not ask for a higher price due to my golden blood, but rather my mind, which is stronger than these primitive creatures." The slave proudly replied with his chin raised high.

Sylvester sighed as he smelled no lies. "What's so special about your brain?"

"I can memorise anything within the blink of an eye! I remember everything in great detail. I even remember the first time I peed or the first time I got sick and got injured. I remember everything!"

'This seems like an extreme version of eidetic memory. But why would such a man be sold? Won't he be brilliant at all sorts of banking work?'

"If you're a noble, then why are you being sold?" Sylvester questioned.

The brown-haired slave's face turned sad, and he looked down. "I… I saw the book of monetary records of my father. He… He had written down the names and money paid to women he had bastard children with."

"..."

"So your father sold you?" Felix questioned, feeling somewhat sad for him.

"Aye, he knew of my abilities and sold me for it. He feared I'd tell my mother, who's the daughter of a Count, and that would have likely gotten my father killed."

"Didn't your mother protect you?" Sylvester inquired.

The slave looked even more depressed. "No… M-My father falsely fabricated a crime in my name, that I… I violated children. My mother didn't believe in my innocence and let my father banish me, and later his knights sold me to this fucker!"

Sylvester had no idea how to even feel for this man. The slave was somewhat like himself, a man blessed with talents, but they became his curse.

'Should I buy him? His ability can be helpful, but I don't know much about his character.'

"What's your name?" He asked.

"I am Darius Vulcan Marcellus, son of none."

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