I Became The Pope, Now What?

Sylvester remained silent for a few seconds, trying to think of a way out of the situation. What else could he offer?

"I will count till ten. If you still don't give me what I asked for, you must return alone." Zelfim started counting loud, keeping a mocking grin on his face.

'They're too eccentric to argue.' Sylvester felt the rush to do something.

"Three!"

'There's no way I can fight my way out of here and keep Felix with me. I don't even know what his current condition is. If he's too weak, I'll have to carry him.'

"Seven!"

Sylvester looked up. "I will do it, your highness."

Clank!

Zelfim threw a small sharp dagger at Sylvester. "Eight!"

Sylvester hurried as the madman didn't stop counting even then. He put his left hand on the ground, spreading his palm. He held the dagger with his right hand and positioned it correctly.

"May the lord grant me strength!" Sylvester continued to act the way any weak-minded statesman would.

Slash!

Crunch!

"Gah!" Sylvester exaggerated the pain and grunted aloud. "Argh!"

The index finger of his left hand now lay on the ground, severed. The wound on his hand bled continuously. Sylvester kept a frowning face and let the blood tarnish the fine carpet below.

"Bring that finger to me, envoy," Zelfim ordered sternly.

Sylvester did as asked and picked up his severed finger. Then, he slowly walked, acting as if he'd faint at any moment, and handed the finger to the man.

"Ah… Quite warm," Zelfim muttered and showed it to his younger brother. "Want to eat?"

"Hah! Why would I taste the blood of a damn sunfucker? Throw it in the fire," Fralan scoffed and rejected the offer.

So Zelfim threw the finger into a fire pot near his throne. "The tribute has been paid. The deal has been brokered. You may collect the preacher and leave instantly. Any delay, and I might ask for another tribute."

Sylvester kept the wound covered with a small cloth from his noble attire and bowed his head while retreating slowly, hoping the two men, already dead in his eyes, wouldn't say anything more.

He could smell the doubt in Zelfim's mind. The man was cautious and not entirely on board with the situation. But, Zelfim did believe what he had seen with his eyes, which was Emperor Lich's castle in the north. So, it didn't matter to him if the Duchy surrendered or not. He was going to take it anyway. Right now, he just latched on to a small string of hope.

To Sylvester's peace of mind, no more strange demands came, and he arrived at the port of the fort city. He repaired his boat while the soldiers went to bring Felix to him.

'They have messed up the glass structure of the boat. It will be troublesome to go through the Thunder pass now.'

He did his best to ensure the boat wouldn't sink before reaching halfway. But, sadly, he could not use any magic as that would alert the soldiers and, perhaps, the two rulers.

"Take him! We do not wish to see you here for another minute."

Sylvester quickly turned around and found Felix in loose grey robes. He looked confused as well but dared not speak about something that could lead to trouble. Nevertheless, he appeared healthy, his eyes energised, and his body unharmed. It was a great relief, one that Sylvester felt was well worth losing a finger.

"Ah, yes… Thank you, respected men." Sylvester acted timidly and grabbed Felix by the shoulder, shoved him onto the boat, and then pushed the boat into the river from the shore. He rowed the boat like there was no tomorrow, wanting to get out of the fort's sight quickly.

Eventually, he lost the scent of all the rage and hatred from the fort. There were no enemy boats nearby either. So he relaxed a little and let the gentle river current sway the boat.

"Who are you?" Felix finally voiced while sitting on the front edge of the boat.

Sylvester smirked and proudly folded his arms. "You hurt me, boy. How could you forget I, your father!"

"..."

"Max? What the… Is that really you?"

Sylvester chuckled and changed back the colour of his eyes only. "Who else would endanger his own life to save your unholy arse?"

"..."

"Max!"

Felix jumped, intensely swivelling the boat, and hugged Sylvester. Felix's heart raced as if it'd jump out of his body. His eyes turned somewhat watery, as he had given up hope long ago, believing there was no way anyone could fight the Barbarians and save him. Not even the church would take such a risk without months of planning—Months that he didn't have.

"You mad man! How did you do it? Aren't the two kings Diamond and Platinum Knights?"

Sylvester patted Felix's back and made him sit under the boat's roof. "I met them as an envoy of the Duchess. A lot has happened, Felix, some good and some extremely bad. But, thankfully, I was able to convince those two mad heretics."

"Hey! What happened to your finger?" Felix noticed the missing space on Sylvester's left hand.

Sylvester decided not to lie as he didn't have any foolish illusion of silent righteousness. So he truthfully answered Felix, and all he wished for in return was eternal loyalty.

"The cost of your freedom, my friend. That mad Zelfim asked for it, and I gave it."

The sound of the river overtook the silence. Felix didn't say anything and kept looking at their missing finger of Sylvester. His heart felt wrenched, and his mouth went so dry he felt it could never be quenched.

"I…"

Sylvester smelled an extreme mix of sadness and self-hate. It was pure guilt. So he patted Felix's shoulder and got back to fixing the boat. "It's alright. I'd have done the same if it was Gab, Sir Dolorem or anyone I consider close enough. Furthermore, losing an index finger is nothing, as our brains are good enough to quickly substitute our middle finger for it."

Sylvester knew it from experience. He had cut many fingers, even his own, in his past life. Most inexperienced folks think the best finger to cut is the little finger. But in reality, it's particularly important for a firm grip. So the best finger to cut was the index finger, as it sits at the top and functions the same as the middle and ring fingers.

Felix abruptly turned around and sat down cross-legged. His shoulders shivered from time to time. Of course, the eyes had finally gone out of control—The tears came out from his soul. He stayed seated the whole time. God knows what he was thinking.

Soon, the dense mist surrounded everything, and the thunder started falling. Sylvester used solidified light magic to create an invisible shining shelter around himself and Felix, saving themselves from the raging rain of thunder.

Sylvester also kept his focus on the boat, ensuring they didn't end up swimming. But thankfully, his light magic was strong enough to stay stable.

After that, it was calm and soft downstream, and a certain Shadow Knight kept a watch from a distance. Sylvester always knew when the man was near. He could feel the sudden increase in the coldness.

'What does it even want from me? It's been weeks now. Does it wish to talk with me?'

He had no idea, nor could he spare time to think. The next phase of his grand plan was about to start soon, and he had to rush before the Borzol faction started moving out.

"Sylvester, did my father send soldiers to save me?" Felix suddenly asked.

"No, but your brother came with a thousand men. And even that number was only after fighting your father. That old count had forsaken you. If not for your brother..."

Sylvester could smell the myriad of emotions coming from Felix. He just decided to answer everything truthfully, as Felix deserved that if he expected the latter to give his undying loyalty.

"Hah!" Felix chuckled. "So you did more for me than even my father. What a fucked up family I have; mum dead, father alive but dead, and a brother trying hard to fill that dead father's shoes."

"Who doesn't have a fucked up family at this point, Felix? If you have a normal family, then it's strange. Sir Dolorem's child and wife died, and Gabriel's mum & dad are dead. Bishop Lazark is an orphan, Crusaders massacred Elyon's whole family, Lady Aurora was a slave, and let's not even talk about Isabella's messed up royal family," Sylvester replied in a ridiculing manner.

Felix had to agree. Nearly every single person in the Holy Land had a messed up history. He was just another victim of the messed up fate.

"You know, Sylvester. I had given up back there. I was ready to meet my maker and see my mother again." Felix spoke softly while looking at the sky above. "I knew it was impossible for someone to come and save me, and I could very well not fight them. Then, you appeared… I've questioned this for so long in silence, but you… Your intelligence, your plans and strategies… It's impossible for a seventeen-year-old. What are you, man?"

Sylvester sighed and sat beside Felix, crossed-legged and looking at the sky. "I am what you become after having to fight to survive from the moment you are born. God merely blessed me with a more-than-average brain, and now I'm merely utilising it. The man you are today is because of all the experiences you faced, good or bad. Likewise, my sadness is locked deep within my heart, for no one to ever know—for none to ever see."

Felix scoffed. "What? I know everything about you. Since you lived in the Holy Land since you were young, your life is like a book at this point."

Sylvester shook his head, letting out some of his genuine frustrations. "You're wrong, Felix. You don't know me, none do, and none ever will. My demons are my own to devour since we have enough to hunt outside. Did you know; Augustus committed suicide back on that mission? Right beside me, he stabbed his heart."

Felix jumped to his feet, shocked and unable to digest. "W-What?! Why? How… What the fuck!"

"Just like how an attempt on life was made on my mum, Augustus' family faced it too. The only difference is that they were able to kill Augustus' entire family. But Augustus found out who killed them, which ultimately broke him. He no longer had any reason left to live, Felix. "

Felix clenched his fist, as losing loved ones was a pain he understood very well. Not to mention, Augustus was one of the kindest people during their school days, who never misbehaved. He was a friend.

"Who was it?"

Sylvester didn't answer him. "Trust me. You don't want to know. It will break your mind, shatter your heart and ruin your will to fight."

"Argh! Just say it, Max! Don't keep me blinded any longer!" Felix turned rageful, and veins popped on his forehead. He grabbed Sylvester's collar and shook him.

Sylvester glared Felix in the eyes, finally deciding to pull Felix to his camp for good. "It's the same people who created the circumstances in which the Shadow Knight attacked me. It's the same people due to whom I received a solarium-blockage life-threatening injury."

Felix's eyes narrowed at the revelation as he roared. "Just say it! Who was it?"

"Saint Seer, the Pope and the entire Sanctum Council!"

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