I Became The Pope, Now What?-Novel

The sun rose the next day, and the various armies started to leave the Rockwood castle. One part went with Lord Inquisitor to the Green City. And the other part prepared to move with Sylvester and arrest the Duke of Ironstone Duchy.

Since Inquisitor High Lord's job was to deal with the queen, he couldn't accompany Sylvester. But still, they had some level of information about the strength of the Duke and what armies he had most likely gathered. For that reason alone, the Inquisitor High Lord had left behind Sir Hans, his right-hand man.

Sir Hans was a veteran commander, so his experience was supposed to help Sylvester plan for the upcoming battle. His help was well appreciated as Sylvester was not a jack of all trades. He didn't know about mass warfare, especially how to command a large army in a backward setting.

Before leaving the castle, a meeting was convened where Sylvester, Felix, Lady Aurora, Bishop Lazark, Crusade Commanders and Sir Hans met to plan for the battlefield.

They already knew about the whole terrain, so they didn't need to gather any extra intel. Instead, they simply drew a map and plotted the various formations and where they expected the enemies to be.

"Most of the area near the Duke's castle and the town is farmland. A small forest and Three Fingers Village are only further to the West. Other than these two places, they have nowhere to start their battle. Staying inside the castle will be foolish as they know we can simply ask for reinforcements until we have immensely superior numbers." Sylvester briefed everyone about the situation.

Sir Hans looked at the map and rubbed his black stubble beard. "The battle will likely occur near the small forest and the village. They will likely hide some of their men in the forest, and when we clash with their main army, they will do a pincer manoeuvre."

Sylvester agreed with him as there was no other option. The rest of the land area was just flat farmlands. "Bishop Lazark, what is the report from the men you left behind?"

"Twenty thousand soldiers roughly. The tourney is still going on, which is just a farce. It's impossible to know how many experts there are, but they do have a number advantage over us." Bishop Lazark reported as he had left a few men behind acting as merchants.

Sylvester sighed and wrote down the numbers. "We have twelve thousand men in total. We will need to fight this battle smartly instead of head-on if we wish to maintain our numbers. I have no wish to sacrifice so many brothers of the faith senselessly."

"What do you suggest?" Lady Aurora asked.

Sylvester rubbed his chin and felt no beard as always. He ignored that pain and wrote a few things on the map. "Bishop Lazark, I need you to conduct a secret operation inside the forest area. Lady Aurora, I will require you to do something too, but it's nothing worthy of planning in advance.

"Crusade Commanders and General Arnold, tell the men to wear light armour instead of a heavy one and wear nothing on their feet."

The men looked at Sylvester strangely as his command was confusing and dangerous. So Sylvester had to make things clear. "Don't worry. This is going to save your lives with what I have in plan. Also, bring as many carpenters as possible, and give me a count of all the ordinary men in our army who have no magical or knightly talents."

Felix relaxedly held his hands behind his head. "Well, let's move on then. The plan is set, and our blades are sharp. Let's not stop until the last heathen body doesn't drop!"

"Amen!"

Everyone repeated and went on their way. The bags were already packed, and only the soldiers were left to get into marching formation with a roll call.

Meanwhile, Sylvester went to check up on the tiger beastkin living in the castle for now. He didn't know where the man wished to go, but the least he could do was give him some money so he could buy his way to the destination.

He arrived at the tower room and found it was already open. He walked in and soon found Elyon sitting near the open window, facing outside at the morning sun. The man appeared very calm and collected, completely different from what he was some days ago.

The wounds also appeared healed, but it was hard to tell when the wounds of the heart and mind will.

"So, what's your plan now, Elyon Mizar?" Sylvester asked. "The Inquisitor Army will move in an hour, so this castle must be vacated so another noble may get it assigned."

"What are you, lord bard?"

Sylvester raised a brow as he replied in a similar fashion. "Bones, meat, water and a whole lot of ideas. What about you?"

"Confusion."

"Then start walking, and keep walking, then walk some more. Keep at it until you find something—an aim. You're a tiger, my friend—so be a tiger." Sylvester replied, not really sure how he should help this man.

"Scars of the mind and hearts take years to heal, Elyon. You just keep living and hoping they don't grow deeper. I need to go now, and I'm leaving this small pouch with some money. Use it to go wherever you wish to—perhaps Libertia." Sylvester put the pouch behind Elyon and headed to the door.

"I don't need the money!" Elyon stood up suddenly and brought the money pouch back to Sylvester. "What I need is work, a goal—something to do. You saved me. You liberated my family's souls—Just one last time, I ask you to enlighten my path, for you are the only holy light I know." Elyon said in a soft yet imploring manner.

Sylvester was taken aback and somewhat tempted as well. 'What am I to do? I have never seen a beastkin clergyman before. I know they exist, but certainly none in the holy land.'

He focused on the emotions Elyon radiated. They were one of sorrow, worship and hope. There was certainly truth in the man's request. But Sylvester didn't know if he could keep him along. Not when he didn't even know him that well.

'Perhaps I can test him in the coming battle.'

"I am going into a battle against the Duke of Ironstone. The man and his wife have committed a grave sin that has caused the kingdom a lot. As a result, thousands have died and continue to do so. If you come with me, you will have to raise a sword. Do you know how to fight?" He asked.

Elyon nodded. "I do, my lord."

"Then you shall receive an armour and ride with me. Remember, as long as you say the lord's name, nobody in the ranks will trouble you. Come down when you're ready." Sylvester ordered him like a soldier and left.

Though on the way down, Miraj started jumping on Sylvester's shoulder. "Yay! Can I make a new Kitty friend now? He's so big and pretty… Can I be a kitty like him?"

Sylvester sighed as he patted the fluffy cloud. "Boy, you are already prettier and mightier than him. No need to become him. Besides, you can't sit on my shoulder if you become him."

Miraj agreed with that reasoning and sat down calmly. "Then… maybe I can paint myself?"

"Sure, but not right now. We have a crucial battle to fight." Sylvester warned him and eventually arrived outside the castle.

The whole army was standing, prepared to move. Lady Aurora's carriage was there in the middle. But Sylvester decided to use the horse as he needed to show himself to the army to lead them later.

Within an hour, the long marching men with the song of the Inquisition began. It was a song that Sylvester remembered very well, for it was a sign of hope when he was about to be thrown into the fire.

The march needed to move around the Iron Mountains and towards the Three Fingers village to set up a camp. It was clear that the whole day would be spent marching, so Sylvester ensured that each man stayed healthy, drank enough water and kept something to eat with them at all times.

Thankfully, most of them had horses, but still, a few commoner soldiers with no power to boast had to walk. And that reduced the speed of all the soldiers.

"They likely know we're coming, so be prepared. Although the common understanding among all warring factions agrees not to attack at night, who knows how desperate the duke is?" Sylvester warned Sir Arnold and Sir Hans.

Sir Hans agreed and advised. "Let's not go too close to them and prepare our camp in the open fields where no one can attack us from hiding."

That was already Sylvester's plan, so he glanced at Bishop Lazark. "You know what to do, Bishop."

"I will see you later, Lord Bard." Bishop Lazark took five men with him and quickly left the marching army. None other than Sylvester knew what they were up to, but all hoped it was something spectacular.

By the time the sun slid into darkness, the whole army of twelve thousand reached a few kilometres from the enemy army camp. The scouts had confirmed that there were a lot of tents and soldiers sitting prepared. The tourney was, as expected, a fake distraction.

"Halt!" Sylvester roared and raised his fist. "Get ready to camp here! Cook the food and eat! Prepare for tomorrow, so when we win, it shall be a feast!"

The men cheered and moved around, busying themselves by erecting the tents. But just then, Sylvester shouted again. "Do not erect tents, as the enemy can burn them easily! Only use the bedding and a bonfire."

"Lord Bard, a missive has arrived." One of the Crusade commanders, Torfin, came up to him.

Sylvester took it and read it loud for others to hear. "I, Duke of Ironstone Duchy, have no fight with the Holy Land or you, Lord Bard. Instead, I wish to speak with you once in the middle of the battlefields—alone—at dawn."

Sylvester crumpled the letter and threw it into the fire. "Write back to him. Say that I have agreed."

"Yes, my lord." The commander left.

Paaa!

However, as they prepared to eat, a loud horn resounded out of nowhere. It was deafening and echoed throughout the camp, spreading dread and panic into their minds. The soldiers rushed to pick up their weapons—some even throwing their food away.

Sir Hans sighed and shook his head knowingly. "This will likely continue for the entire night. They are trying to keep us on edge. Hoping it would make us unable to sleep so when we fight, we may be too tired."

Sylvester smirked evilly and looked at the sky. "Not for long, Sir Hans—just wait and watch. After all, two can play this game."

Paaa!"

Every hour, the loud horn resounded. It occurred two more times, all the way until midnight. Everyone was angry, frustrated and tired by then, as they never knew if it might be an actual attack. By the fourth hour, everyone expected to hear another horn—But none came.

Of course, they could not see the enemy camp, so they had no idea what had even occurred. All they could do was make guesses.

However, Sir Adrik asked Sylvester directly. "How did you stop them, lord bard?"

"Haha… Do you know what's the universally recognised scariest thing on a dark night?" Sylvester laughingly asked. "An army of undead besieging you—Trying to eat you alive!"

As if a light flickered in Sir Hans' mind, he exclaimed. "Ah! Necromancer? Bishop Lazark?"

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