I Became The Pope, Now What?-Novel

How many were vanquished, how many survived, that was not a concern for anyone. As Sylvester carried the Prince in his arms at an inhuman speed, the other Grand Wizards simply made way. The entire city had been consumed by madness. Witnessing the massacre had agitated everyone.

What were they? Were they not humans? What right do the wizards and nobles have to kill them at their whim and starve them as they desire? The questions were plentiful among the desperate souls of commoners, but sadly, before Supreme Strength, no amount of words or thoughts could help.

The mighty trample the weak. It had been the law of the world since the inception of time, and it shall be the law until the end.

Boom!

Grand Wizards cleared the path, obliterating anyone or anything that stood in their way. They made way for Sylvester to increase his speed and smoothly enter the heavily guarded gates of the Hundred Castle City. Once inside, Sylvester quickened his pace to reach the royal castle.

From there, they hastened to the hall of healers, where he placed the Prince on a bed. Naturally, he also inflicted further harm upon the man during that time, ensuring he remained on the edge of death. Once satisfied, he also retrieved the excessive metal he had inserted into the man's body.

It was a perfect crime, and Sylvester knew only one person could solve it. And if that person were to appear, it would be Sylvester's victory.

"What has happened to the Prince?" The tall and imposing Supreme General of Masan arrived. A level ten Grand Wizard, he exuded an imposing aura even when standing several feet away. "Who has done this to my grand nephew?!"

Sylvester immediately stepped back from the bed and allowed the other Grand Wizards to respond to the man.

"We were in the Southern City. The peasants attacked us in large numbers and pelted us with stones. Some of them struck His Highness. It was a minor injury, General, but the Prince fell from his seat afterward." A Grand Wizard explained. "We promptly brought him back after defending ourselves."

"Defending yourselves?!" Supreme General Manzax sternly confronted his subordinate. "Why did you feel the need to retaliate against peasants?"

Immediately, the five Grand Wizards lowered their heads, and only one replied with stutters. "G-Generals... There w-were hundreds of thousands of them. W-We used wide-scale magic to defend ourselves."

The General's hands trembled with fury, and his eyes behind the mask burned red. "You, as a Grand Wizard possessing the ability to decimate cities, used wide-area magic against a crowd of unarmed citizens?"

"A-All of us did…General."

"You... scoundrels!" the General roared. "How many did you kill? I want an estimation... NOW!"

"T-Tens of thousands, General. We had to fight on our way back as well."

The medical hall went silent at the reply. It was unimaginable what kind of damage five Grand Wizards could bring on weak civilians.

"You have ruined us! You went there to talk and negotiate, not commit genocide! They will never forget this now—we just gave birth to a city full of enemies to the crown!" General Manzax muttered with great concern in his voice. "I shall go and overlook the situation until normalcy."

"General!" The chief Healer abruptly called the man. "The Prince... His internal body is a mess. His stomach is punctured, his veins connected to his heart are broken, his lungs are damaged, as well as his entire liver—I'm afraid... we must prepare for the worst!"

THUD!

All five Grand Wizards and Royal Knights fell to their knees. Sylvester also mimicked them, showing grief in the situation. Meanwhile, General Manzax was frozen on the spot.

"Healer, have you gone senile? How can a mere stone thrown by a peasant cause such damage?"

"I do not know, but what I say is what my examination revealed. He was destroyed from inside somehow." The old-looking, bald, brown-skinned Healer replied. His hunched back and scared eyes could not be more noticeable at that moment.

The General walked closer to the bed. "So it was an attack on my grand nephew?"

"General, I noticed no signs of an attack or poisoning. It could just be an unknown disorder." The Healer clearly stated. "The world is filled with diseases we are yet to discover."

"Do not start your education seminars here, Healer! Save the Crown Prince, no matter what. Call any healer you need from the world—he is the future of our Empire—He can't die!"

It was chaos outside the castle, as well as inside the castle. It didn't take anyone special to spread the news. The moment the Healer claimed the Crown Prince was incurable, the various slaves and workers began to run around, forwarding the news.

In no time, the entire top administration of the Empire and the Royal Family learned about it. The Emperor, Empress, and the two direct siblings quickly rushed to the Healer's hall. Unfortunately, the Emperor was already a withering old man, so he was brought in a palanquin. The same was the case with the Empress.

Due to their slow speed, the first to arrive was Princess Fernis. She lunged near the bed and cried her heart out, seeing her beloved brother unconscious, his mouth crimson with blood.

"Who did this? Who hurt my brother?" she shouted at the Healer and the Supreme General.

Amidst the crowd of soldiers was Sylvester. He silently assessed the reactions and emotions of everyone who came to see the dying Prince. To his luck, he was not disappointed with the revelations.

'Got you!' Sylvester smelled the scent of lies from the princess. 'No love for your dear brother, princess?'

As he smelled it, he sensed the scent of jealousy, excitement, surprise, and peace—a mixture far from someone grieving the loss of their loved one.

"My son!"

Just then, Emperor Zenith arrived. He got out of the palanquin while rushing to the bed, despite being frail. This time, Sylvester smelled genuine fear and sadness, worry like never before. Understandably so, as the Crown Prince was the Emperor's favorite to be the ruler next.

'Let's get to work, then,' Sylvester thought, once again beginning to move his index finger ever so slightly. Using metal manipulation, he controlled a small amount of peculiar metal he had concealed beneath the Prince's body.

Tiny particles, smaller than one could see, slowly flew into the Emperor's mouth while the mighty Emperor shouted curses filled with worry and fear. He didn't feel it at all, and eventually, the particles reached their destination in the stomach and formed a small ball, about an inch in size.

Soon enough, the Empress arrived, and once again, Sylvester did the same. He followed the same procedure with the Grand Premier and Magistrate General. The body of the Crown Prince had effectively become Sylvester's trap, as he always knew he would never get to approach those people so closely by other means.

Cough!

The Prince finally woke up with a mouthful of blood. He looked at his family with eyes filled with pain, his throat so damaged that no words came out.

"F-Fa…"

"Be at ease..." the Emperor weakly voiced as he saw the hope of the Empire crumbling before his eyes. "You will be healed soon, Zedd. Do not worry. We have the best healers in the realm here."

"F-Fa…Iz…painsss~" the Crown Prince was able to utter a few words, revealing his misery.

"Quick! Put him to sleep!" the Emperor roared at the Healer. "Stop his pain and begin the healing. Do whatever you must do; call wizards from anywhere you can—light wizards, dark wizards, I don't care!"

Sadly, the Chief Healer had already given his verdict. But how could he tell the truth to the Emperor? He simply nodded his head and proceeded to put the Prince to sleep.

The crowds were then dispersed, and only a few soldiers were kept to be interviewed in order to understand the situation. The massacre they had committed outside wasn't going to bring about anything positive, and they knew it.

Tough times for Masan had just begun.

…

Southern City,

Saint Cardinal Aurora knew what was about to happen, and she knew it was a necessary sacrifice to bring about a change. Being an Inquisitor, she had seen death before. However, seeing the mangled, chopped, or burned bodies of innocent civilians, men, women, and children, was a different experience.

She walked around the Southern City, heading in the direction of Hundred Castle City. Along the way, all she saw were corpses in conditions where no one could recognize who they once were.

"Saint Cardinal, the report has arrived!" Aurora's adjutant appeared and handed a file to her. It only contained a single sheet, and on the paper were the names of each district of the city along with the number of deaths.

Aurora gasped as she read the total numbers. "Are you sure? Three hundred thousand? That's…fifteen percent of the total city's population!"

The adjutant, a young and strong clergyman, lowered his head in shame. "T-The situation got out of control. The soldiers didn't stop killing, and the people only became more agitated to retaliate against the injustice. Even as we speak, some districts are facing violence."

Aurora sighed and headed to the Royal Castle in the protected city. It was crucial that the nobles understood what a mess they had created. Because once the people start leaving the city again, the entire Empire would hear the news of the massacre.

…

Sadly, the Empire was the least of the Emperor's worries. It had been two days, and the Crown Prince still remained in a coma. The healers came and went to aid his son, but none ever returned with joyful faces and good news.

In just two days, the Emperor seemed to have aged a few more years. His typically strong and lively face appeared darker than before, his eyes were always red now, and the black bags underneath his eyes swelled even more.

"Bring me some wine!" Emperor Zenith bellowed from his small court chamber while he sat on the throne. "Ah! G-Grandfather? You're here? Why are you here?"

At the Emperor's words, all the court members looked around in confusion. There was nobody standing before the Emperor, certainly not the Emperor's Grandfather, as the man had been dead for centuries.

"I will make you proud, Grandfather...Long Live the Empire!"

The rambling continued as if the Emperor had gone insane. Randomly shouting, seeing things, and talking to imaginary entities were enough signs.

However, the court continued its proceedings. The gates opened, and the herald announced the arrival.

"The personal guard of the Princess, Jack of the Sandwall, has arrived!"

Sylvester walked in, clad in his full armor. Having been specifically summoned, he was certainly on edge. But he understood that if someone had discovered his plots, they would have sent soldiers to apprehend him, not invite him.

"Ah! Jack! The valiant knight of Sandwall! You did well by saving my son!" the Emperor exclaimed excitedly, behaving unlike himself as he stood up to approach Sylvester. The Grand Primer attempted to stop him, but the elderly monarch did not listen.

Pat!

The Emperor placed his hand on Sylvester's shoulder, unknowingly coming so close to his greatest adversary. "Come, I shall introduce you to my grandfather! He was the greatest Emperor of Masan, who led us to our peak..."

Unceasing chatter and nonsensical rambling. That was the condition in which the Emperor was left.

'So it worked,' Sylvester felt nothing but delight in his heart. 'The Trojan horse that was Prince's body worked like a charm.'

Sylvester followed the man all the way to the throne. Finally, the Emperor sat down, and Sylvester stood beside the throne. He could not believe it was happening so soon—he was within arm's reach of the Emperor.

'Oh, Mercury, such a great neurotoxic element—two lives, and still so elegant.'

Thank you for reading. GT votes are much appreciated.