Chapter 486: Depressed Pope

Name:I Became The Pope, Now What? Author:
"Grand Uncle, please don't joke at such a time. Solis is a hoax of the poor, a farce of the church. Who do you think did this? Gracia?" Prince Zedd earnestly inquired. "I must provide an answer to my father."

The imposing man paced around the room and observed no signs of a struggle. "Neither as the Grand Wizard of the highest level, nor as the Supreme General of Masan—have I ever witnessed a Grand Wizard's death without a fight. Unless the opponent was so overwhelmingly powerful that... there wasn't even a chance to resist."

Prince Zedd dreaded such a possibility. "A Supreme Wizard then? Who could it be? The Church? Anti-Light? Or perhaps the elves themselves, considering the elven boy is missing?"

"Not the church. The Pope is preoccupied with the war against Beastaria. Anti-Light only concerns itself with undermining the church's authority. It could either be the Elves or a concealed master that the world failed to notice—a being with secret powers capable of... accomplishing this."

"But how is that possible? When someone attains Supreme Wizardhood, the heavens bestow golden rain. The last time it occurred was when the leader of Anti-Light ascended," Prince inquired.

"It doesn't necessarily have to be a new Supreme Wizard, Prince. Maybe an ancient monster has survived the test of time. Nevertheless, it appears that interesting times lie ahead. I shall accompany you when you meet His Majesty. Masan has lost the elf, two Grand Wizards, and a cardinal of the church. I'm afraid this matter won't conclude here."



Royal Castle,

"Hoh, the city seems to be in celebrations," Sylvester murmured from his chamber in the royal castle as he heard the distant chiming of bells, echoing from morning till nightfall.

Sylvester sat down, cross-legged on the floor, and established a connection with Sir Dolorem in the East using Solarium Web.

"Sir Dolorem, the West's Saint Cardinal has perished. Send Lady Aurora to thoroughly investigate everything. Inform her that she will be contacted by someone of importance upon reaching the southern city of Marashia," Sylvester communicated to the loyal knight.

Sir Dolorem frowned on the other end. "How do I justify my knowledge of the death prior to the official letter?"

"Make a story, weave mysteries. By the time she is ready to depart, the official letter will have arrived as well. This is of utmost importance, Sir Dolorem. Everything hinges on her arrival here. I cannot handle it all alone—Masan conceals a bloody slave city of six thousand dwarves beneath its surface!

"The Empire possesses dwarven weapons. They will be unstoppable if we don't act swiftly. Moreover, I have rescued an elven boy from their secret prison. I believe this boy holds some significance in brokering peace with elves. His name is Avanss. Please utilize all available channels to gather more information about this name."

Hearing Sylvester's revelations, Sir Dolorem clearly felt the urgency. Masan had to be stopped, no matter what. "So this is why Masan has started to gather the army. We were able to fend off the first wave of attacks by Beastaria and are preparing to attack on their coast now. We have reached a peace deal with Beastkins to spare their village, as most of their clans have taken the faith of Solis because of your deeds in the past.

"But if Masan attacks from behind, our attack on Beastaria will be worthless. Only if we could reveal all this to the Pope as well."

"Don't even think about that," Sylvester warned sternly. "The church has many doom lovers sitting in high places. As for the attack, I believe Masan will not do it anymore as they have lost their bargaining elf against Beastaria's elves. Even if Masan takes the continent, they will have to inherit the headache that is a thousand-year war.

"So do as I say. If my work goes as planned, I will not only become the Pope but also end the long war for good. Of course, the path to that goes through a field of death, a price we must pay. Anyhow, how is my mother?"

Sylvester received a detailed update from the man about everything going on in the East, from each and every Kingdom. But, sadly, Felix was still nowhere to be found, and even when he tried to use Solarium Web, he could not find his best friend.

In the end, he disconnected the contact and rested down on the bed in the room for the first time. The battle under the monastery was quick, but it took a heavy toll on his body.

''Ugh… Better let my leg breathe." Sylvester removed the armor from his right leg, lowered the pants, and removed the right leg as well. It was a prosthetic that appeared like a real leg but was moved with the help of runes and a constant flow of magic, another reason behind Sylvester's fatigue.

He thoroughly checked the limb. "Good, the leg has grown back almost seventy percent. With this speed, just a few more weeks before it's fully regenerated."

It was the wonder of higher magic he learned from the first Pope's ghost. In the end, each branch of magic was based on the Solarium. So what happens when one manipulates the Solarium itself?

The result is an overpowered, but heavily taxing magic superior to anything else. From magic to a simple fire, with Elder Magic, everything intensifies manifold—including healing.

"Chonky, I will go to sleep. If anyone knocks, slap me to wake me up." Sylvester requested and closed his eyes. "We must be careful of the princess—she turned out to be a hidden monster too."



Holy Land,

The Pope rarely appeared outside his battle armor anymore, and the smile from his face had disappeared since the day of Sylvester's death. Having lost all hope for the great future of the church, he tried his best to salvage what was left and not let his legacy end in ruins with a defeat at the hands of heathens.

Either at the Sanctum Council meeting or the battlefield, he spent his time in only those two places, planning for the attacks and defenses.

"The naval fleet is prepared. We shall move on to attack Beastaria in two days," the Pope informed the Sanctum Council. "Five of the Grand Wizards shall go with me, and the rest will be armies of the Eastern Kingdoms."

"Are we truly going to spare the Beastkins? A majority of them have accepted the lord, but not all," Saint Wazir questioned, also sitting in battle armor.

With a sigh, the Pope shook his head. "In this war, only the Dragons and Elves have been the major force of opposition. Dwarves are missing, the Giants haven't appeared, same with Werewolves, Vampires, and a plethora of other species. They are not united this time, and that is where we strike—on their weak links."

Knock! Knock!

"Your Holiness, an urgent letter has arrived from…some priest in the West. A letter is here for you as well, Saint Seer," the Pope's assistant notified from the other side of the door.

"Bring it." The Pope ordered.

In no time, Saint Seer read his letter, and the Pope read his. The contents of both were somewhat similar, but at the same time differently detailed.

The Pope exclaimed after reading it. "Those filths of humanity in Masan! Saint Cardinal is dead, along with three Cardinals, eight Archbishops, and fifteen Bishops in the head monastery. Furthermore, the Saint Cardinal was conducting human experiments for longevity on slaves."

"There is more," Saint Seer interjected. "My sources have spoken too. Masan has stopped recruiting their civilians into the army now. It seems something grave has occurred there. Your Holiness, this is the time we should increase our oversight of Masan using this opportunity. Let's send someone to investigate the situation in the West."

The Pope rubbed his beard in annoyance as his hands were already full with the war. "We have no experts to spare for this effort, Saint Seer... Only if Sylvester was still..."

Indeed, Sylvester's amazing ability to get the job done with the best outcome every single time was gravely missed by all of the Council members. They all mourned for him, as he was finalized to become a Council member just like them.

"Headmaster Geralt can't be sent, for he maintains the School of Dawn. That leaves us with Aurora among the Grand Wizards." The Pope made the decision. "I shall also give her the task of finding the Fourth Guardian, Soulbreaker, and bring him back. We need Zackmund's expertise in this war. Wazir, write down the letter of appointment for Aurora as the Church's Special Investigator. Give her the temporary rank of Saint Cardinal of the West to supersede all clergymen in the West."

Saint Wazir quickly wrote down the letter and passed it to the Pope, who then stamped it with his seal and folded it into an envelope, and placed the church's golden wax seal on it.

"Gunther, send this to Aurora urgently," Pope ordered his assistant. "Tell her to leave immediately."

With the quick decision and actions, the Sanctum Council chamber again fell into a discussion of war and planning. The Pope felt great pain seeing one more seat empty around the table.

"Any sightings of the Lord Inquisitor?" the Pope inquired.

Saint Seer shook his head. "He was seen three years ago in the Highland Kingdom. Since then, he's become a ghost."

A long sigh left the old Pope, who seemed to have aged a century in merely a few years.

"This darkness that looms seems impossible to fight. Losing the light that used to be so bright. Dark days are ahead, my sons of faith, darker than your most feared night."

At the Pope's words, all heads fell low.

The future had never been that uncertain to their eyes before. What will happen, they know not what destiny for the church was in fate's store.



"What!" Lady Aurora exclaimed while sitting before Sir Dolorem in his tent at the Inquisitor camp. "How did you...When did you become a spymaster?"

The letter arrived from the Pope's Palace just when Aurora was done preparing to head to Masan after Sir Dolorem's stern instructions. She outranked the man but respected him enough to believe his words.

"I don't lie, Lady Aurora. The situation is more dire than you can imagine in the West. Things the Holy Land can't see are transpiring, and my ally there requires your help to ensure the downfall of their sand castles," Sir Dolorem cryptically voiced. "And a pleasant surprise awaits you in Masan."

Aurora squinted her eyes as she donned her armored helmet. "You've said that so many times before. It better be good..."

Sir Dolorem chuckled and helped her with the armor.

"Believe me, Lady Aurora—the surprise is so shocking that it will dazzle your eyes."

[A/N: See the Elven boy and Prince's Grand Uncle]

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