Chapter 621: The Pope Speaks
Sylvester soon felt the strong winds hitting him in the face. On the back of the undead dragon, they made their way back toward the Holy Land.
Still conscious, Sylvester looked behind at the distant mountains, "Has Mount Primis been completely destroyed?"
"Yes, it fell towards the south just as we were retreating. It will take some time for the region to heal itself," Emperor Raz replied. "But you won—That's great."
Sylvester nodded, humming a reply, and rested to heal his wounds. By the time they would return, he reckoned there wouldn't be any need for medical aid, "I didn't win, Raz. I lost in a way that's hard to comprehend—More than me, I'd say Sol lost even more. Mistakes were made, wounds were inflicted and never mended."
He didn't talk too much, knowing he'd have to repeat the story anyway. So, with Miraj sleeping on his chest, he also closed his eyes. Sleep wasn't his solace, however, at least not until he reached his house. As that was the only place he felt at home.
'In a way, Julius' rebellion against the Church worked better for me. If he hadn't been harmed, he'd have likely worked for the Church. But in all likelihood, he would have merely lived as a simple family man, never realizing his full potential.'
There were too many what-ifs that interested him. But such was the nature of time; even gods had to bow to its whims.
It took them many hours to reach home. The Holy Land was still in celebration of the rise of their Pope to Supreme Wizardhood. With the new status, everyone knew that nobody could ever disobey Sylvester anymore. There weren't enough Grand Wizards in the entire Sol to battle Sylvester; on top of that, he had an undead lich who was also a Supreme Wizard.
Boom!
The massive dragon landed in front of the Pope's Palace at the base of the long stairs that led to the main gates. There were a lot of Clergymen gathered, cheering for Sylvester, and more were coming.
"Long live the Pope!"
"Long live His Holiness!"
"Long live Pope Sylvester!"
It made sense. He was akin to Light Crystals shining in a long, dark night. The Holy Land had suffered, and the Clergymen had lost their faith. But finally, they witnessed the light conquering every enemy with their own eyes. In their minds, and from the various stories, Sylvester was, after all, the Son of Solis.
"Thank you for gathering here!" Sylvester raised his hand and addressed the Clergymen before heading to the palace. "It's not untrue to say that Solis has blessed us. One after another, each and every enemy of the faith shall kneel before us. But now is not the time to waste these precious moments, for the realm requires our hard work. For the realm to flourish, it demands the sacrifice of our blood, sweat, and sleep!"
"Long live the—"
Sylvester took a short breath and bellowed abruptly, silencing all the chants, "Get back to your work! Solis will not be pleased with your chants! To make him and me proud, prove your worth! So get back to work!"
"..."
The crowd felt confused. Was the Pope scolding them or praising them? They felt apprehensive and couldn't muster the courage to chant anymore. Eventually, they simply turned around and left to do their work.
"That was harsh," Emperor Raz muttered, scratching his skull with a bone finger.
Sylvester scoffed and jumped off the dragon's back, "They were hoping I'd announce a week of festivities or something. I have no time to waste on such events unless I've achieved complete victory over all the immediate threats."
"Admirable!" Emperor Raz followed behind. "You're quite the workaholic. I was like you five hundred years ag... or was it one thousand years ago? Somewhere close... Well, I was focused on working and building a massive castle for myself, but... I failed."
"Why?"
"Climate change." Emperor Raz blurted, sighing and showing some sorrow in his voice. "When I was almost done with my magnificent ice castle, an earthquake struck under the frozen sea, and oil began to leak out. It corroded my castle and turned it into a black mess—Oh, such a loss. My White Phoenix Castle was turned into Ugly Raven Castle."
'How lonely was he?' Sylvester wondered and patted the poor undead on the back for unknowingly giving him the treasure of oil.
Wasting no time, he entered the palace, and Sylvester summoned all members of the Sanctum Council and the Guardians of Light. He went to his office with Emperor Raz and Lord Inquisitor and waited. Bloodrain couldn't come since he had to be treated in the sick bay.
In no time, all the members rushed to see him as soon as possible. Chairs were arranged, and Sylvester started the briefing. He didn't trust many people with his greater secrets, but at least when it came to faith, he trusted those in the room.
"Anti-Light was a Demon of our own making," Sylvester started with the story of Julius and revealed how he was pushed to take up arms after being harmed by the Church's most loyal soldiers, the Inquisitors. "I tried my best to ensure that what had happened remained in the past. So, Julius Aurelius Alexander will eventually be arriving here, to join us and serve our common goal of making this world better. I hope that you'll treat him better and show him that we're not the rotten administration of the past."
Multiple sighs came from mouths in the room.
Eventually, Felix raised his hand, "Did you become a Supreme Wizard?"
All heads turned to look at Sylvester, wanting that answer.
"Yes, I did."
Instantly, smiles spread across all the faces there. The scent of excitement, hopefulness, worship, and happiness spread. Despite being the strongest people in Sol, they all still regarded Sylvester as a pillar of leadership. So, the stronger he got, the more at peace they felt.
"Lord Inquisitor," Sylvester wrote something on a piece of paper and signed it with his seal. "Since I've become a Supreme Wizard, you may proceed with the execution of all the corrupted members of Council of Thirty-Two. Use any means necessary to learn where they have hidden their ill-gotten wealth—give them pain."
At that moment, Gabriel spoke up, "Your Holiness, I support killing them. But to disassemble the Council of Thirty-Two... they will brand you a tyrant if you don't share your power."
Sylvester didn't smile, nor did he show anger. However, using just the solarium in the air, he made everyone aware of what a Supreme Wizard was. Using metal manipulation, he instilled an unsettling feeling in their bodies. Without even moving, he could kill them.
"The moment I step down from the Pope's seat, the Council of Thirty-Two will be reinstated. Until then, I will rule supreme—if anyone has a problem, send them to me. We tried their method once and saw no improvement, and now it's our turn," Sylvester firmly ordered, as the Pope this time, not their close friend. "I know that Pope Atrox in the past did the same and ended up ruining the faith and bringing about a dark age. But he was a puppet, and I'm the anomaly—so have some faith in me."
'Atrox was Vlad The Impaler, after all.' Sylvester muttered to himself and adjourned the little briefing.
"Not you, Felix," he stopped his good friend, and waited until the rest of the members had left the room and the door was closed. "I know you're dying to ask it."
Felix smiled broadly and jumped over to Sylvester, "Can you do it?!"
"Yes, but not right now." Sylvester didn't give Felix a chance to feel bad and explained his fears. "I need to experiment on animals first. I'm sure you don't want me to give you balls that would only produce demons with five arms, six legs, and two heads."
Felix calmed himself and rubbed his stubble beard, much to Sylvester's annoyance, "As interesting as that sounds, I think I'd rather not have a kid with an ass on his forehead. So I can understand, do test your doubts before anything. But, at least now I can cheer Isabella up—she's been drowning herself in work."
"Walk with me," Sylvester placed his arm on Felix's shoulder and walked toward the Holy Court's hall. "How are the designs for the new Green City coming along? I gave a lot of suggestions to future-proof the city as we'll make progress as a society."
"She'll come to you with the final draft once it's complete. Your knowledge of what the future looks like is better than anybody else," Felix said, talking casually as they walked. "By the way, just to give you a warning, I think there's some trouble brewing in the west. It's related to a carriage my County's soldiers caught at Miraj City. It was filled with Tears of Solis."
Sylvester stopped midway, a frown on his face, "A carriage full of it? It's impossible to grow and refine that much Tears of Solis. If it were to reach the public..."
"Chaos," Felix blurted. "I launched an investigation, hoping to come to you once I have enough evidence. But, my investigation met a dead-end at Marashia City's port. I have some theories that it could be coming from the Sand Continent."
Sylvester rubbed his face with a palm, annoyed that, yet again, a mess had appeared, "If people get addicted to it, only death could be their salvation—before anything happens, we need to find the source."
Worry filled his mind as Sylvester went to the Holy Court and took a seat on the wooden, golden throne. The court was in session, and all the necessary assistants of various Sanctum Council members had arrived since not all council members could be there every time.
'If this drug spreads around in Sol, the dwindling population will fall even faster,' Sylvester worried about the situation Felix mentioned. 'If it's coming from the Sand Continent, then finding the true culprit would be even harder.'
"Your Holiness?"
"Hmm?" Sylvester looked up. Gabriel stood at the side of his throne.
"There are no planned meetings for you today, Your Holiness. Since we had no idea when you would return, we postponed everything," Gabriel explained. "Perhaps you should rest for a day."
"I can't," Sylvester muttered and stared at the faces of hundreds of Clergymen who stood around at the sides of the walkway. They all stared at him with reverence in their eyes, waiting for him to say something. They seemed eager to work for him and prove their worth.
'At this point, my word is the word of Solis,' He felt and wondered if he could do something with that. 'If that's the case then...'
Sylvester abruptly closed his eyes and placed one palm on his chest and the other toward the hall. Then, he began to sing a hymn under his breath and formed a bright halo behind the head. Soon after, he used Elder Magic to commit a feat that no other being could in the world.
The Clergymen in the vicinity prepared themselves to receive his holy sermon. But minutes passed, and nothing happened.
"What's going on?" A Clergyman asked.
"Maybe he's meditating?" Another suggested.
Woosh!
However, all of a sudden, they felt their minds going numb, and an invisible, heavy aura enveloped them from all around. No thoughts leaked from their minds as they felt empty. Confusion was there, but so was a comforting warmth.
But it wasn't just them; it was felt everywhere throughout the continent, even to those beyond the south—Words reached the hearts and minds of all, even when the Pope didn't move his mouth. Some found it terrifying, while others cherished it. His soothing voice reverberated everywhere, overcoming all the clutter.
Every man, woman, or child—Working, sleeping, or playing, felt as though heavenly eyes held them in their gaze—Combined with the words, it felt like basking in Solis' rays.
"To all the children of Solis! I am Sylvester Maximilian, the Pope—The answer to all your dreams and hopes!"
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