I Became The Pope, Now What?-Novel



"Buddy, are you drunk?" 

The five Grand Wizards, who had never been talked down to in years and never had to fight someone overwhelmingly stronger, took Sylvester's words as a mere joke. A man they knew wasn't a Grand Wizard making threats to them didn't seem very menacing. 

"Just fetch us more wine and food, boy. You still have a long way to go before challenging us." said the eldest member of the five. He was five foot tall, brown-skinned, and with short white hair. He had nothing on his body besides pants, but his torso was covered in scars, telling the tales of his adventures. 

Sylvester had no time to waste, so he made his move. "As you wish." 

Boom!

Sylvester's feet dug into the marble floor and shattered it into a wide crater. Like a spear, he launched himself forward. His trajectory was fixed on the oldest Grand Wizard, aiming directly for the center of his chest.

In less than a second, faster than their eyes could even react, Sylvester had done his magic. The loud boom echoed, and the next thing they knew, the old Grand Wizard was gone. 

"Wait!"

But they were wrong. Only the torso of the Grand Wizard was gone, while the legs were still standing there, leaving behind a gruesome sight of blood, flesh, and a few dangling intestines.

"One down!" 

The remaining four men turned around and saw Sylvester taking a fighting stance once again. The torso of the previous Grand Wizard lay on the ground, splattered with blood all around, and eyes rolled back into his skull—dead. 

Woosh!

Yet again, a crater appeared on the ground, and the four men frantically looked left and right to locate Sylvester's figure. 

"Behind you!" 

"NOO—Ah!" 

Thud!

A severed head, separated from its body, fell to the ground, rolling right before Sylvester's feet. Sowing no mercy, Sylvester slammed his heel on it, crushing it into a mess of brain matter and bones. 

It was at that moment the remaining three realized they were vastly outclassed and unprepared. They made a run to the exit and tried to open it—failing miserably. 

"Open the gates!" 

Bang!

Their faces turned pale, and their eyes were full of terror. They kicked, punched, and tried to make a hole in the wall just to escape. They didn't even have weapons to fight against Sylvester. 

"Three more to go!" Sylvester menacingly began walking towards the three. "Don't you have any questions to ask?"

"Fuck off! I'm Helingad the Scorcher! I won't die without a fight!" The tallest, six-foot-five Grand Wizard roared and finally used his magic. After all, a Grand Wizard was a city-destroying entity, and having a few special moves was the norm. 

"Eat my Rage of Solis—Haaaa!" Helingad punched his right hand toward Sylvester, creating a massive red rune circle dozens of meters wide. On top of it, an air rune circle also appeared, and soon from its center appeared a swift and pointed gust of fire resembling a dragon's mouth.

Sylvester didn't even flinch and continued to walk forward, taking the devastating blow with ease directly to the center of his chest.

Boom!

The fire collided with Sylvester's plate armor, instantly melting it away. Then the flames spread and burned away all of the armor on Sylvester's torso, including the helmet. As expected, the fake face also melted and revealed Sylvester's natural appearance—white skin and fierce golden eyes.

'Ugh, what a waste of a mask. I should enchant them later.'

Shhh…!

However, the effects of the fire stopped after that. Contrary to Helingad's expectations, Sylvester's body seemed to absorb all the fire, even if he looked like he was burning. 

"W-Who are you?!" The three men asked simultaneously. 

Sylvester thumped the spear on the floor and began speaking in rhymes. The halo appeared behind his head once again, but reciprocating the fury, crimson was its color. 

♫Dare oppose the might of the lord. 

Don't test me, my fury you can't afford. 

All your sins can no longer be ignored. 

I am Solis—I am light—I am the God!♫ 

Woosh!

With the halo still shining behind him, Sylvester leaped into the air. The men were flabbergasted, too scared to react to him, and easily fell victim to the strike. 

The Spear of Infinity elongated slightly and descended upon Helingad's head with a vertical strike. The blade easily connected and cut the man right through the middle, like a hot knife through butter. Split into two, the sides gaped wide, oozing blood and organs, and the remaining two men shuddered at the sight. 

"No! Forgive us, God…We are servants of your benevolence! My generations have prayed only to you…Solis…Give us a chance for redemption…" The two remaining men were Grand Wizards, ranked sixteen and eighteen in the Empire—at best. They were Grand Wizards of level three or four. 

Sylvester looked down at them, his golden eyes shining with a heavenly blaze. His entire body was enveloped in the flames. The crimson halo behind his head grew bigger and bigger as the amount of Solarium in his body increased with the help of Elder Magic—the only way to fight these men. 

They weren't very old Grand Wizards, hence easily susceptible to giving up their free will for the safety of their lives. Sylvester knew this was just the first and the easiest of his battles as the enemies were unprepared, so he attempted to conserve as much energy as possible. 

♫The filth of Masan, you dared kill my blessed son.

Where he tried uniting the sinful realm as one. 

You schemed against light—now, nowhere left to run. 

Now burn, for you have awakened the fury of the sun!♫

Sylvester's theatrics knew no limit. Portraying himself as Solis incarnate, he forced his hair to regrow, as it was much simpler than growing a limb. At a visible speed, the long golden-blonde silky hair draped over his shoulder, bringing back his iconic look. 

"No! Please…It was the Emperor's sin!" The two Grand Wizards kneeled as they recognized the famed bard's look. There was only one man famous for his golden eyes, halo, and golden-blonde hair, after all.

♫Why must I forgive you for the sin committed? 

For your crimes, you yourself have admitted. 

My son is no more; how can that be omitted?

Disease should be cleansed before it's transmitted!♫

"No! Please…! I'm Sir Wajir, God of Poisons…Please allow me to serve you, Great Lord!" Wajir pleaded, black-haired, brown-skinned, and green-eyed. 

"And I'm Warlock Ellum, Master of Summonings!" Ellum, with similar features except for his black eyes, added. 

Sylvester felt pleased with the names of their powers. Grand Wizard-ranked talents in poisons and summonings were brilliant. But he couldn't trust them that easily. After all, they were seasoned veterans as well. 

'But, will the Elder Blood Contract even work? It's only theoretical. Officially, I'm ranked below these two in magic, but my Elder Magic surpasses everything else…Will it work?' 

♫Nothing can save the downfall of this Empire.

It invited ruin in pursuit of power to go higher. 

Speak, do you still serve the Emperor of heathen? 

Or will you fight against sin as a soldier of my legion?♫

"You! You, Solis…You are the supreme master of all mankind. We serve you in life and death!" Ellum proclaimed. "We were born from your blessing and die for it too—My sword and magic are yours!" 

"As are mine," Wajir added, bowing his head while still on one knee. 

♫Empty words with no heart are all I hear. 

Prove it, with blood, you must swear!

Write it, your submission, and your prayer.

For I own all—your mind, body, and the air!♫

Sylvester forcefully slammed the butt of his spear to the floor. "Hesitation, I feel, as expected from a human's pride even when they kneel. Death, I award you—for stopped has your life's wheel!" 

Ellum and Wajir frantically ran into their room and brought out two sheets of paper. Without even writing anything, they poured their blood on the sheet and extended it to Sylvester. 

"We serve you, Solis!" Ellum cried. 

"Our lives are yours!" Wajir added. 

Sylvester took both pages with his hands and placed the Blood Contract runes on them using his own blood instead of ink. The difference was that he used Elder language to make those runes. And the only term on the papers was—"I submit with my mind, body, and life."

At last, Sylvester nervously waited for the Blood Contract to work. He had only theorized the thing before, as there was nobody to try it even once. 

Woosh!

As soon as the contract was completed, it shined in bright golden light for a split second. Then, before they knew it, the papers burned away, but shockingly, no ashes were left behind.

Thud!

Ellum and Wajir threw their heads at Sylvester's feet and prayed to him. They truly believed he was Solis himself, and why wouldn't they, after seeing the one-sided massacre, which still smelled fresh? 

♫Sons of light, it's time your worship is proved. 

My wrath is eternal, for Masan stays unmoved. 

Rise—Ellum and Wajir—go and fulfill the creed.

To here, your purest brothers, you must lead.♫

"May your holy light enlighten us!" The two quickly rose to their feet and headed to the gates. Their eyes appeared clear with a fanatical rage. Solis was there; Solis was reality. Finally, they could see what all men desire—a path to immortality. 

Thud!

Ellum and Wajir easily killed the two guards standing outside the gates and rushed off into the labyrinth of corridors. 

Left behind, Sylvester didn't move or even blink. To seem like a god, he had to appear far from a mortal. But his mind raged in worry as well as delight. 

'Yes! The Elder Blood Contract works—But who they will bring now is something I can't control.'

Thud!—The door suddenly swung open once again. Ellum and Wajir returned while dragging an armored and masked man along. He was tall, with only half his face covered with a fearsome mask, but that was enough for Sylvester to recognize him—thanks to his cursed luck.

"O' Supreme One, God of Gods, the master of life and death—We bring your most loyal servant. By your grace, he was already on his way here.!" Ellum, Master of Summonings, proclaimed. 

God of Poisons, Wajir's green eyes shined with excitement as he announced the arrival. "He prays to the Supreme One six times a day, provides food to the orphans, and maintains all the broken monasteries in the realm with his own money—This is the Supreme General of Masan, Manzax K'al Mirmasan!"

[A/N: This guy.]

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