I Became The Pope, Now What?



Sylvester, content and optimistic about the future, made his way to the labyrinth below Bard's establishment, which was constantly under construction to accommodate new rooms. At the time, approximately thirty grand hall-like rooms had been erected, some even resembling small amphitheaters.

The concrete floor was well-laid, while the walls were made up of clean bricks covered with concrete. The corridors were illuminated by light crystals that were triggered by motion, saving energy stored in the Solarium crystals.

The labyrinth was so deep underground that although loud noises could be heard from many rooms, no sound escaped the underground complex. The secret was safe and secured behind many blood contracts. Sylvester didn't like it but had to do it to maintain the secrecy.

Sylvester had obligations with the many bards about writing down their hymns and the various exciting news they'd come across. So, there was a need for constant use of the printing press and also paper making. 

Sylvester's forte was building things, and as long as it didn't require electricity or software, he could make mechanical items. With the printing press already in hand, he designed a paper-making machine called The Fourdrinier. It was a single-unit, big machine that used steam to move various rollers, presses, and dryers. 

Sylvester had only provided the designs, and the rest of the job was up to slaves. Yes, Slaves, a total of sixty of them that permanently lived inside the labyrinth. Having signed the Blood Contracts, they were barred from leaving the facility, speaking about their work, location, or Sylvester to anyone.

They were promised freedom after five years of good service, but in reality, Sylvester had chosen them because they were murderers and rapists, already considered dead by church laws. Hence, their freedom was their death.

The slaves were under the leadership of a learned man who could read and write better than the others. He was responsible for printing, and his keen eye helped identify any errors.

"How many copies of Devil's Manifesto have been made?" asked Sylvester sternly, without bothering to recall their names since they would eventually be replaced.

"We spent an entire week working solely on the book, Your Grace. Since we already had the typeset for the pages, it was fast. Right now, we have six thousand copies of Devil's Manifesto. We could have done more, but we ran out of space." The head slave informed subserviently, head held low, not daring to look in the eyes. 

Being the Head Slave, he enjoyed a slightly better life than the rest. He had his own room and better food. Although none of the slaves were genuinely suffering, he still preferred his current status. 

"No, that will suffice. Focus on your monthly Bard's booklet issue," Sylvester stated, uncertain of where to distribute so many copies of his books. "Do you have any requests?"

The Head Slave shook his head. "We are content, Your Grace. If we were sold elsewhere, we'd endure a much worse fate: beatings, starvation, and forced labor. This is more than we could ever hope for — sustenance, lodging, clean attire, and baths — we are grateful." 

'Well, you were being taken to your death sentence.' 

Sylvester got up to leave. "In that case, I will leave. Make sure you hand over the monthly booklets to Darius on time. Any delay will result in extra work." 

"Understood, your grace!" 

Sylvester exited the labyrinth and departed from the Bards. Since everything was progressing smoothly, he decided to allow the money-making machine to function independently and not attempt to fix something that was not broken.

He mounted his horse and rode into the Holy Land with a multitude of thoughts swimming in his mind. 'My training begins tomorrow. However, I must keep my metal manipulation a secret for now and attempt magnetic manipulation covertly. Normal people do not comprehend how the Spear of Infinity operates, so they will never connect the dots."

Along the way, he gazed about and contemplated what he could invent next to spread his name further among the commoners. He wanted people to riot on his behalf if he were to be refused the seat of the Pope in the future.

Bam!

As Sylvester glanced ahead, he witnessed a man attempting to cross the street and falling after stepping into horse manure. It was the most frequent source of fall injury across the continent. Yet, at the same time, it was impossible to prevent as horses were necessary.

"Argh… Not again!" 

Sylvester continued on his way, observing the man groan and curse the horses. Fortunately, Sylvester's horse did not take offense to that, and they eventually arrived at Bright Mother's housing.

'Hmm… What can I make that is easy and only requires mechanical engineering?' 

As he climbed the stairs of his building, he thought of the elevator. However, it was simple to create with magic and runes. Moreover, it could only be used in the Holy Land or castles where floors were excessively high.

"Wait a minute… Why don't I build a bicycle? It can become highly popular among commoners residing in cities as an inexpensive means of transportation within the city. It can be useful even in the Holy Land since clergymen are always on the move. I also have Viscount Mineworth sitting in Highland with no industry other than mining. He can become the biggest manufacturer of bicycles!'

He liked the plan a lot. So with fire in his eyes, he shut himself in his house and drew the designs on a clean piece of paper. Since he already understood its structure, it was simple to make. The only sophisticated item he included in the design was two metallic springs beneath the seat for a smoother ride.

'Perhaps I should ask the Duchess of Iceling to utilize her abundant forest resources to gather rubber and process it for the tire-making process. It may start slowly, but the industry will surely grow large soon.'

By the end of the day, Sylvester was done with the paper designs, and all that remained was making a working product. He was even excited to make it as he wished to test his metal manipulation abilities. If it worked well, he could imagine making greater things in the distant future. 

"Let's go and purchase some steel first. Miraj, are you coming?"

"Nyo… Let me sleep." Miraj sleepily replied while resting by the window and getting his beauty sunbath since the winter was coming. 

"Alright, I'll be back in an hour."

Sylvester put a tiny thin quilt on Miraj and left soon after. He knew he was not doing what he should focus on — training. But simultaneously, he wished to relax a little and enjoy the mundane things.

'Constant killing and fighting can easily lead to a decline in my morality and conscience — I can't stop interacting with common folks. Otherwise, I'll become like those inquisitors.' 

…

Just like that, a few days passed. Sylvester resumed his training, opting to do it in the enormous arena beneath the Pope's Palace. He obtained special permission to bring his entire team there so that they could train and develop a synchronized fighting style.

Sylvester didn't want to encounter a situation like when Felix was captured by the Mountain Barbarians. Therefore, he needed to ensure that each team member complimented the others' weaknesses so that none of them would be a liability.

However, he halted his training as an important day had arrived. Sylvester headed to the weapon's warehouse once more. It was a momentous day since the Pope, the entire Sanctum Council and the whole Council of Thirty-two would witness the Solarium Light Beam in action. It was crucial to satisfy them as constructing the beam machine was expensive, and outfitting the entire Inquisition with it required spending tens of millions of Gold Graces.

However, that day, he didn't travel on his usual horse and rather used his fabulous, freshly built bicycle with a basket at the front for the good boy Miraj to sit and eat the wind. The tires moved smoothly on the well-built road of the Holy Land. The springs under the seats absorbed any small bumps. 

He first stopped at the gates and shocked the guards with his strange ride. Then, he surprised the guards at the warehouse gates again. But, since he was an Archbishop, none stopped him. 

Tring! Tring!

Sylvester rang the bell on his bicycle handle as he entered the warehouse and approached the crowd of elderly, white-haired men. He attempted to gain their attention with the noise and eventually succeeded.

As the Pope and Inquisitor High Lord rose, the rest of the men stood up and watched Sylvester draw nearer. Their expressions were blank, and their eyes widened with confusion. They tried to think what the hell Sylvester was riding. They were not fools, though, and could easily perceive the mechanical process. The chain connected with the pedals that propelled the rear wheel, and the front wheel was steered with a handle. It was an ingenious design, many thought.

Sylvester finally came to a stop in front of the Pope, beaming with the confidence of a young entrepreneur, industrialist, millionaire religious fanatic.

Tring! Tring!

"What do you think about my ride, Your Holiness? No longer will the streets be soiled with horse excrement, nor will my fellow clergymen slip and fall upon it."

"..."

"Hmph... What in the name of humor is thi—"

"THIS IS BRILLIANT!" The Pope bellowed, silencing the anti-Sylvester Cardinal. "Did you invent this, young bard?"

"I did. It's called a bicycle." 

The Pope approached the bicycle and inspected it closely while stroking his lustrous white beard. He appraised the mechanics and nodded approvingly. "How much does it cost?"

Sylvester pondered for a moment. "I created it in a single day, but given enough time, even non-magical commoners can construct one within a day. They just need to streamline the production of all the components. I believe Two hundred Bronze Mud should suffice for a normal-grade iron bicycle, which they can later paint. As for a steel-made bicycle, I think a Silver will do."

Considering one thousand bronze made one silver, and one hundred silver made one gold, the bicycle was genuinely cheap. 

"This is brilliant, young bard. I detested the smell of horse manure in the Holy Land. I will commission one for each low-ranked clergyman this…" 

"Bicycle!" Sylvester interjected, overjoyed that he had already secured a buyer. "But let's focus on our main objective for now."

Sylvester dismounted, lowered the side stand, and let the bicycle stand on its own. He moved towards the Solarium-Light Beam, where Cardinal Robert stood, prepared to demonstrate.

"I have already informed them of its functionality and effects, as well as your... Skygem pulverizing."

Sylvester and Miraj's eyes flickered with a hint of sadness upon hearing the mention. Nevertheless, they shook their heads and concentrated on the task at hand.

"Thank you, Your Eminence. Today we will test it with Mythril." Sylvester produced a large rock with a silver color and faint blue tint. It was shed from Ashra's skin.

He quickly placed it at the target spot and returned. "Please bring out the crystals." 

He then addressed the others. "Please close your eyes, or you may risk going blind."

Momentarily, Cardinal Robert initiated the customary countdown. "Three… Two… One!" 

.

.

.

"Ah, I don't see anything happening." A Cardinal spoke up, a hint of mockery in his voice present. 

Sylvester opened his eyes and immediately fixed his gaze on a group of Cardinals.

'They didn't close their eyes... As if...'

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