I Became The Pope, Now What?



Sylvester was left speechless by the brutal confession of the man. Not only that, he now had a clue as to why the Shadow Knight had appeared. The creature likely knew about the horrifying crime that was about to be committed by the Count.

"How many people are here?" He questioned. 

"The last Count was conducted six months ago, so it's more than two hundred thousand. Nasty folks can't even keep their homes clean after I graciously provide them with livable sustenance free of cost." The Count had nothing but scorn for them. 

Sylvester rose to his feet and strode to the edge of the terrace to survey the area. As far as he could see, there was only sorrow and despair. But, if he wished to protect them, a new difficulty arose that he had just realized.

'This scoundrel! The horde is merely a day away. Now I do not have enough time to summon reinforcements. He planned this from the start and knew I would object.'

"Why did you not inform me earlier? I could have summoned the Inquisitors and the Holy Army." Sylvester asked him sternly. "Your plan amounts to genocide, which breaks all laws of the church."

"Huh!" The Count scoffed. "As if I would allow anyone else to bask in the glory of my great house Sandwall. This battle is mine, and by winning it, I shall once again immortalize the name of Sandwall. So stay out of this, Bard! That is unless you have a different strategy to halt the millions of cannibals."

For that very reason, Sylvester loathed sly, powerful, and evil men like Count Sandwall. But regrettably, he had no secret weapons at his disposal anymore.

'I should excommunicate him and let his eldest son assume the mantle after this crisis is over. But can I allow these people to perish?' Sylvester gazed at the slums once again. 'What if the Shadow Knight is not here to slay the Count but to observe what decision I will make?'

Left pondering, Sylvester wished for nothing more than to impale his spear through the Count's chest. The man had made a straightforward situation overly complicated.

"You possess no right to decide the fate of these innocents. Therefore, I am revoking your authority over the people from this moment on. Failure to comply with the order will result in your ex-communication and possibly the end of your illustrious bloodline." Sylvester coldly commanded before heading for the exit.

"By what authority?" the Count questioned. "Article Twelve B? The clergy cannot meddle in the Kingdom's internal affairs."

Sylvester promptly replied, "The same article contains another line at the end, 'Unless it's harmful to the church.' Moreover, Articles Four, Four A, and C stipulate that no children of Solis shall be killed or harmed unless they commit a crime."

"The end justifies the means, Bard. By the time you bring your reinforcements and orders, I will be done. After all, you still need permission from Cardinal Suprima of the Duchy. You cannot remove me with mere words," the Count retorted, fighting him with legality.

However, Sylvester was not a regular person. "You are mistaken, Count. I was appointed Cardinal Suprima of Sorrow Kingdom, and my promotion was never revoked. I have also been added to the Pope's Sanctum Council. At the same time, I still hold the title of Grand Crusader, which enables me to deal with any noble. Not only that, you are forgetting that I was made the Grand Field Marshal of Gracia. That means all your army must follow my orders if I say so!"

Sylvester's voice was full of certainty, confidence, and authority. He spoke only the facts, and it was a reality that Sylvester's status was much grander than a mere Count.

Count Sandwall could only watch as Sylvester left. Meanwhile, he gritted his teeth and seethed in rage. But he still knew he had permission to go ahead unless Sylvester came up with a better plan.

…

Sylvester exited the underground city that held more population than many cities outside. He immediately went to the Running Men post office and wrote an urgent letter to Lady Bethany Normani, the new Duchess of the Duchy. Then he wrote different letters to the local commanders of the Inquisition and the Holy Army, instructing them to rush to Sandwall County and help battle the horde of cannibals.

Finally, Sylvester wrote a letter to the Cardinal Suprima of the Duchy, who also resided in the Duchy's capital, ordering the man to appear in a single day or face actions ranging from execution to demotion. At the same time, he ordered them to bring massive amounts of grains while explaining the crisis.

Lastly, he wrote a letter to the Pope directly. He knew it wouldn't reach the man in time, but Sylvester merely wanted the Pope to learn about the situation so he wouldn't face any backlash for slaying a Count.

"Chonky, how much grain do you have right now?" Sylvester asked his friend, patting his shoulder.

"I think…" Miraj rubbed his head with his fluffy paw. "Ummm… I think I have ten bags and ten boxes."

Sylvester felt disheartened. "Each weighs a ton?" 

"I don't know. I took them as tax when we raided nobles. Each bag has one written on it, and the boxes have ten written on it."

"Ten? Then they weigh ten tons? Ten boxes means a hundred tons of grain. If I calculate my calories, then a ton should be able to feed at least two thousand people to some degree so they don't starve. Making it into a soupy porridge would mean a ton can feed even more people, perhaps three thousand. That means a hundred tons can feed three hundred thousand people. If I ration it better, it can last for a few days until supplies come."

Waaah!" Miraj lamented as he yawned. "You count too fast. My head is spinning, Maxy."

Sylvester grabbed Miraj in front of him and massaged his chubby face. "That's why I was teaching you math last time. You may be old, but you haven't studied anything." 

"Nooo… I hate books." Miraj kicked his legs like a spoiled child. "I can count bananas, though. Perhaps they can inspire me."

"..."

"You just want bananas, don't you?" 

"Meow." 

Sylvester chuckled and went to the monastery to seek assistance from people. He needed to establish a mega kitchen and hire cooks to prepare food. He couldn't use those from the underground as they might be carrying some disease, so he employed some men from the town.

The bright mother there was a member of Sylvester's cult, so she was more than willing to assist. She appeared to be aware of the underground city but was unable to do anything about it because the Archbishop of the County refused to take action.

Sylvester delved deeper and discovered that the Archbishop's life was threatened. Nevertheless, Sylvester decided to transfer him later, as it was unacceptable for the clergyman to succumb to a noble's pressure. After all, killing an Archbishop brought doom upon oneself.

As time passed, they were able to produce a large amount of rice porridge by the end of the day.

"Mother Merissa, take this light crystal with you. Before distributing the food, ensure they know that the Holy Land is providing it. Ensure that they are not abandoned and inform them that the Sorrow Kingdom is once again free and united. They may return if they wish, as the reconstruction efforts require workers." Sylvester instructed the head Bright Mother in the monastery.

"Your Grace, we will be mobbed if we go there with this much food." Mother Merissa, the old and kind-looking Bright Mother said. "Can we have some soldiers for protection?"

"Of course, I am the Grand Field Marshal. I will order two battalions to escort you and the team. They will organize the people into lines to receive the food."

With that, Sylvester spent the entire night sending food to the so-called Devil's Village and feeding the people. At the same time, he prevented the Count from entering the area using a small team of Holy Army soldiers stationed at the monastery.

Slowly, the day passed, and the rain did not stop. But fortunately, Lady Bethany's response came in the form of a small army that was instructed to obey only Sylvester. With them, Sylvester could at least ensure that the people underground were not fed exploding crystals.

But, as anticipated, that presented a bigger challenge, and Count Sandwall confronted him in front of everyone. Although Sylvester had informed Felix about everything by then, he stood by his best friend's side.

"Have you come up with a plan, or will you mindlessly obstruct my path?!" Count Sandwall shouted.

"Father, do not raise your voice before Saint Sylvester Maximilian! Lest you be condemned with heresy and burned!" Felix shouted back.

Sylvester didn't flinch and stood in the midst of the Count's army in the training arena. "My brothers of faith and children of Solis. Lord Edward Sandwall was about to commit genocide and kill two hundred thousand people, poor refugees from the Sorrow Kingdom, by using them as bait for the cannibal horde tomorrow."

Sylvester allowed his words to be digested by all of them first. They glared at the Count, and some whispered to each other. Of course, they were accustomed to violence, but killing a mindless Caniball was different from killing a civilized believer of Solis.

"As per the Holy Law of Light, he is a heathen. However, it will be up to you to decide whether you will become a heathen as well or remain a believer. Please make your decision. Do you want to slaughter the two hundred thousand poor, impoverished, and sick men, women, and children living under the city? Answer me loudly, because if you agree with him, I will have to return to the Holy Land and call forth the Inquisition."

After a moment of silence, Sylvester continued. "In that case, sharpen your blades and raise your shields. I will join you all on the battlefield."

"I will join too," Felix interjected. "It's about time I fulfill my duty as a Sandwall and protect people—not conspire to commit genocide."

Felix's gaze was fixed on his father, conveying nothing but complete disappointment.

"In that case, I will also enter the battlefield," Count Sandwall declared. "But if we perish, remember, you will be the cause of cannibals ravaging the north!"

Sylvester had to make a decision. 'If I don't do this, the Shadow Knight won't let me go. I have no choice. I hope everything goes well.'

"Listen to me!" he commanded the troops. "It has been raining for days, so the ground will be muddy. So remove your heavy armor and boots. We shall fight barefoot, as boots will cause slipping."

"Understood, Your Grace!" The men replied in unison. 

"I will provide you with healing potions and various crystals for tomorrow's battle. Remember, the best way to fight is to conserve energy while inflicting maximum damage. If there really will be millions of them, we must conserve our energy!"

"Understood, Your Grace!" They roared together, eyes twinkling with excitement. 

Then finally, Sylvester hammered the final nail. 

"The one with the most cannibal scalps will receive a thousand Gold Graces from the Count and ten thousand from me. The second-place winner will receive five thousand, and the third-place winner will receive two thousand!"

That was it. The arena resounded with roaring chants in the name of the lord and Solis.

Sylvester merely smirked at the Count, having gained the loyalty of his soldiers with such ease.

'Let's see how this plays out now.'

________________________

[A/N: Lads and ladies, the volume is nearing its end.]

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