Chapter 287 287. Drunken Pope

"Why do things fall down? Well, it's called Gravity, Chonky. Everything in the universe has gravity, even you and me. But our gravity is negligible; meanwhile, the land we stand on is vast, and its gravity is equally greater. So it keeps us and everything around us tied to it. It's called Newton's Law of Gravitation.

"Its formula can be written as the force of gravity acting between the earth and any other object is directly proportional to the mass of the earth & the object and inversely proportional to the square of the distance that separates the centres of the earth and the object."

"..."

Miraj's ears fell, and he looked at the sky and then at Sylvester. "Inver… Propo? What? Your words, what do they mean, Maxy?"

Sylvester shrugged and started packing things up. "Forget it. That Newton is useless for most people in a world of magic."

"Who is Newton?"

Sylvester chuckled as he answered. "Some bloke with too much time who is also hated by millions of kids. So, forget about him. Let's go to Grandpa Monk's shack."

"Understood!" Miraj saluted and devoured all the stuff Sylvester packed into his dimensional belly. After all, Sylvester couldn't risk keeping the portrait of Diana outside, as he feared the misunderstandings it may cause.

After spending half an hour, he was ready to jump down from the branches. 'I should return here later to meditate. I wonder where that girl is now.'

In no time, he jumped from one branch to another and slowly descended. He had already mapped most of the parts of the peninsula by now—at least all of the land part—so he could easily navigate on it.

'I wonder how that Bear, Yogi, is doing after the old man's death.'

Woosh!

Thud!

As soon as Sylvester arrived near the shack, he stopped and brought his guards up. "Why is there smoke coming out of the chimney? I saw no other name on the visitor's list."

He didn't have his spear, but he did have a dagger with himself. He prepared it in one hand and maintained a rune scheme of light over his right palm.

Without making any sound, he slowly made his way close to the shack and tried to look inside through the gaps.

Clank!

Then, he heard the sound of glasses hitting one another.

'Could it be?'

Sylvester put his dagger away and opened the door without any delay. And, as he had guessed, the big old man was sitting alone. He appeared drunk. His eyes were red with dark bags underneath.

"Holy Father!" Sylvester walked inside.

There, the Pope was sitting by the table near the only window. There was a portrait of Grandpa Monk on the table, accompanied by a glass and a bottle of Sunshine Nectar that the Pope was drinking.

"Sylvester! Come, sit with this old man."

'Hmm… The feelings seem genuine. I can smell the sadness, anxiety, and… fear? He's drunk… Perhaps this is the best opportunity I will ever get to ask him a few questions.'

He took a seat opposite the Pope. "Your holiness, what are you doing here alone? I didn't see your entry in the visitor's register."

The Pope scoffed and downed another glass of the drink. "Ugh… Forget that… Let me mourn the loss of my old man in peace. He…"

Sylvester knew that he couldn't go right at the questions. So, he poured himself a glass too, but never drank it and only acted of taking sips. "I… miss him too. I came here to check his shack and keep it maintained."

"Good… Good… He gave it to you, didn't he? Do take care of this place, as it's the last proof of his existence. Oh… why did I send him on that assignment~" The Pope started slapping his forehead as the regret became apparent from his voice and the scents.

"He passed away because that's what fate had planned. He was old, and I'm sure he was happy as he died while serving the one true lord to whom he had dedicated his whole life." Sylvester tried to say some words to calm the Pope.

But the man only kept brooding in his drunken state. "When I had nothing, he came out of nowhere and became my everything. Now… He left me an orphan again. I envy you, son. You better take care of that woman called Xavia. Not all are lucky enough to have a loving family."

Sylvester couldn't say anything as his eyes widened. A great realisation touched his thoughts, and it was scarier than he could believe. 'Wait… There is genuine concern in his words… Wasn't he behind the attack on mum? Did Saint Seer go lone wolf? Then… Does he serve another faction?… Good lord! That means the most important man in the Council, the Spymaster, is compromised!'

This was not good news at all. This meant everything was at risk. But again, he couldn't come to believe that the Pope did not know this.

'Or perhaps Saint Seer did it without telling the Holy Father… For the greater good? But why? He has already tied me to the Holy Land with the help of the Shadow Knight.'

Sylvester silently stared at the Pope and thought about all the different scenarios, all the various pathways his future could move, and all the possible outcomes. But, in the end, he could only come up with one that was likely the reason. 'There is no possibility that Saint Seer could rebel against the Pope, as that'd be instant death for treason. So he's likely doing things independently for the 'greater good.' And… he aims to strengthen me by removing my greatest weakness—mum.

'But this would mean that the attack on her was meant to kill her, not just send a warning or harm her. Ugh… this is not good.'

"Your holiness, what if someone is trying to kill my mother? And it's someone I can not touch?" he asked directly.

The Pope looked up at Sylvester's face for a few seconds.

'Strange… Why do I smell more sadness and regret all of a sudden?'

"Son, I know people see me as a half-god. While some see me as a monster, I'm not… a monster. But where I stand, if I don't become one, then those outsides will chew us down. Sometimes, to get things done or to secure the future of the faith and the world, I have to do things that none would be proud of. That's the duty of the Pope. Today it's mine. Tomorrow, it may very well be yours."

Sylvester kept his mind open to ensure he understood the meaning of whatever the Pope wanted to say.

"Sylvester, I heard what happened to your leg. Are you in pain? How are you?... I know you never told your mum about this. I'd have done the same if I was you. The happiness of our loved ones comes at the top, after all." The Pope asked while pouring more drink for himself.

'So he regrets sending out the Shadow Knight behind me? Could it be that he barred the Saint Seer from doing anything against me anymore, but the Saint Seer never stopped?'

"I'm managing, your holiness. But you didn't answer my question yet. What should I do if someone is trying to harm my mum, someone I can not reach?"

"Kill them! That's what I'd have done if someone had tried to come after my old man… But I killed him with my decisions instead…"

'And there he goes again with his self-loathing. Who would have thought the Pope would seem so vulnerable someday?'

Sylvester, however, poured the old man another glass of the Sunshine Nectar... and then another... then one more. His goal was to get him extremely drunk. "Let this day be the only day you will cry for the loss, your eminence. Let your emotions out, or they will remain inside and rot you from inside slowly."

The Pope downed the glasses one after another while praising Sylvester. "You're such a good lad. You must hate this world and the church… right? You could have been a high noble or even the crown prince of Highland… But we keep you here. Where you don't even get the recognition you deserve because I am too afraid to bring chaos inside the church. Afraid that Beastaria and Masan could exploit our differences to end us. Those Cardinals… If I didn't have great wars to fight, I'd have broken their necks by now."

Sylvester wasn't shocked by that at all. It was already a fact that the world knew. "I am only allied to the Solis, your eminence. I serve the light, and no matter what path my life would have taken, I'd still have served the light—Even if I was drowned in the darkness."

Thud!

The Pope picked up the bottle this time and started drinking nonstop. "Nonsense! Son, forget whatever you know about the world. It's all… a mess!"

'And so it begins.' Sylvester straightened his back.

"Forget what, your eminence?"

"Hmm… Whaa… my old man… my father…"

Sylvester frowned as the Pope started to mumble randomly. So he kicked the Pope's feet from underneath the table. "Forget what, your holiness? Why should I forget things about the world?"

"Arrgh… Forget all the laws, forget all the history!..."

Sylvester quickly shifted to sit beside the Pope to hold him from falling asleep. "Why? Tell me. Why, your holiness? Who are you afraid of?"

The Pope's eyes seemed to go smaller slowly as he started to drift into sleep. But Sylvester didn't care, and he wanted answers now. "Speak, your eminence! For the sake of Grandpa Monk!"

"Old man? Yes… The mystery goes deeper than you can ever imagine, son. The First Pope discovered the truth but was deliberately forgotten by those who steered the world throughout history. All this… power… In the end… It's all just u…"

Bam!

"Your holiness! What? What is this power? Who controls the world? What do you mean by mystery?"

But the Pope's head had fallen to the front, on the table, as he passed out.

The questions remained unanswered, and Sylvester tried to wake him up to the best. But, no matter what, the Pope was too tired as he had not taken any rest since the news of Grandpa Monk's death came.

Sylvester was on the edge of his seat, and his heart felt like bursting, raging for the answers. 'What was he talking about? The first pope? Yes. The man was indeed mysterious, according to the strange messages he had left behind. And the history of the world is manipulated? This would make sense why I have not found any written history of anything that existed before the church's foundation five thousand years ago.'

Sylvester glanced at the Pope, who slept calmly. The man was genuinely heartbroken after the death of his only family in the world. He could sympathise with him to some degree, but the news that Saint Seer wanted to kill Xaiva had sent alarms ringing in his head.

'Once again, I'm feeling the lack of authority. I must start going after all the Council's Cardinals… I must rise higher in the clergy at all costs… As for history, I'm sure whoever the mastermind is will introduce himself to me eventually.'

But the one big question still left him in more fear than just interest.

'The world… There is so much mystery. How strong must that person be that even the Pope is afraid? Will I ever be able to compete with him and achieve my peace?'

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