I Became The Pope Now What Chapter 141

[ … words ]

“What son asks such vile questions to his mother?” Lady Aurora barked.

Sylvester just realized that in his old mindset, he forgot to realize Xavia was supposed to be his elder, not the other way around. Honestly, talking about all these things didn’t matter to him as he didn’t care. But there was certainly a problem here.

He clarified in a more technical way. “What? I wish to help mum, that’s why I’m asking. You tell me, how do you maintain your bust from bouncing around when in a fight? Or on a horse?”

Lady Aurora was flustered, for no man ever dared to ask her such questions. “H-How fiendish you are!”

Sylvester sighed. “Just tell me the answer, and you will know the science.”

“I wrap a long piece of cloth around my torso, that’s it.”

Sylvester nodded and thought about making a bra for Xavia and poor women like her. He reckoned it must be hard for common women with large busts. Noble women could easily afford a wide range of bustiers, but commoners could afford clothes only if they desired to. Most just let it be free.

“What about you, mum? You don’t do something similar?” He asked.

Xavia had no shame with her son; after all, he drank milk from the same thing they were talking about. “I don’t, as I am not a warrior.”

“That’s the problem. Even if you’re not a warrior, you need to use one, especially for someone of your size. Don’t worry. Give me a few days, and I will create an undergarment that can help you with the pain caused by the strange center of gravity.” He reckoned it wouldn’t take too much time since it was a really easy thing as long as the size was known.

As for clothes, cotton and silk would suffice, but the elastic part was the real problem.

He knew he could find and harvest natural latex pretty easily, but turning it into an elastic band would not be easy. Still, he knew he had most of the ingredients available thanks to alchemy, but how to go about it was the question. His little knowledge told him that latex, acetic acid, and sulfur were involved.

“You will make something to hold them up? How? You don’t even have them to know how to go on about it.” Lady Aurora asked him interestedly.

“As long as you give me your size, I should be able to make something. Anyway, for now, please put this lotion on your back, mum.” He handed Xavia a paste-like thing that had a cooling effect on the skin.

Sylvester felt somewhat awkward talking about the twin peaks for so long now, so he changed the topic and sat down. He kept trying to infer the reason why Lady Aurora was there and what she was trying to gather.

“Mum, I have filed for a promotion as well. So I should be able to become an archpriest now.” He revealed while sneakily feeding the banana to Miraj, keeping his end of the bargain.

Xavia, of course, turned very happy. But the truth was that Sylvester was heavily under-ranked for his job. He was a Sanctum Inspector, and by that reference, he should at least be a Bishop, and even then, Sylvester just killed a Bloodling, clearly making him someone near the rank of an Archbishop, as only they are strong enough to do such a thing.

“What’s your clergy rank, Lady Aurora?” Sylvester asked her.

She replied proudly. “I am a Cardinal. All Guardians are given the rank of Cardinal.”

“What about Saint? I have seen some Cardinals having Saints behind their names.” Sylvester inquired.

“That is even rarer than a cardinal. To get a Saint rank, one needs no promotion. You can be a saint even while being a priest. Only those people who have done something vastly big for the faith are given the Saint prefix. Or if they showed any otherwise impossible miracle.”

Hearing that, Sylvester wondered why he didn’t have a Saint prefix since he was breathing, walking proof of a miracle. He’s the Bard of the lord, after all.

‘Maybe I should try to get the Saint rank first. If my goal is to become the Pope early, I need to earn the respect of the people fast. And it’s impossible since oldies of the church will never support an upstart young man unless I do something so revolutionary that it’s impossible to ignore me.’

Sylvester had long realized that to rise in the ranks; he didn’t just need to fight against the darkness but also his colleagues. Even if someone is not interested in Pope selections, they’d rather see someone with a white beard than a pretty face like him.

He rubbed his chin in annoyance. ‘I seriously need a beard so I can appear wiser… but why is it not coming? I’m sixteen.’

Soon enough, the dinner was ready. Sylvester ate it, and surprisingly Lady Aurora also stayed to eat. He didn’t like it but accepted the situation. He had not smelled anything suspicious from her until now.

And if she truly didn’t have any agenda, then the best case was to befriend her, through Xavia, of course.

‘I should exploit the fact that she never had a family. She likely longs for the warmth that comes from little things.’ he planned secretly while eating.

“You should try some pickles mum made. They are amazing.” He suggested and passed on the jar on the table.

He was trying to make her feel at home with these little things. Xavia was one step ahead, and her motherly instincts flared up every time she saw a parentless child. Even though Lady Aurora was obviously older than Xavia, but she looked younger.

“Eat more, here.” Xavia filled Lady Aurora’s plate again.

The all-so-mighty Guardian of Light could only shift in her chair and eat it silently, but a smile was always present on her pretty face.

‘Haha, I guess not all the powerful church members are freaks.’ Sylvester thought and finished up.

He went ahead, washed his plate, and headed to his room. “Mum, I will go to sleep. Been tired from meditation on Soul Tree. Good night to you as well, Lady Aurora.”

Sylvester lied. In reality, he was not tired, nor did he need rest. Instead, he wished to do nothing but make some plans for the future. Use his old notebook and write some things on it, including targets and plots he needed to focus on.

So he told Miraj to vomit out his book of schemes after giving him another banana. “Aye, Aye, Maxy.”

Soon Sylvester changed his clothes and sat down by the table, and started writing on it. He needed to get recognition and power as fast as possible. For that, he needed some high-profile cases for work.

‘I cannot stay as a Sanctum Inspector either. I need a transfer to something like the Holy Army or Inquisitors, where I can have a cult following. I’d prefer the Inquisitors, however, as they already hold me in high regard.’

He quickly wrote down the ways to gain popularity among the masses. ‘I need to earn money and use it for the social welfare of people while ensuring they know I provided it, not the church.’

At last, he wrote about his strength. ‘The more I exert myself, the stronger I will grow. So I need to pick more missions that require me to exert. Even dangerous ones will do with Lady Aurora along for the whole year.’

“Maxy! Play?” Miraj suddenly jumped to sit in front of him on the table.

“Fine!” Sylvester closed the book and turned his chair around to face the room. Then, he used his palm to send a little light beam on a wall.

“Oh! What’s that? I must catch it.” Miraj quickly jumped away to hold the little light on the wall. It was a natural cat instinct, it seemed.

Sylvester chuckled every now and then while making Miraj run around. “I guess this is how I can keep you in good shape, Chonky.”

But Miraj was busy. “Oh no! Why must you run away, little light? Let me eat you!”

Sylvester sighed relaxedly. It sure was soothing to his mind to have some calming time at home. However, it was his luxury that he could temporarily afford, for outside, an intense mess of unimaginable proportion was brewing.

…

Four thousand kilometers away.

In the fields of craters in the war-stricken Sorrow Kingdom, a new battle took place, one that would define the future of the world and the faith. One that would bring out the fangs of the church.

Boom!

The lands appeared demonic in an incredible show of power; everything burnt, destroyed, and blackened. Somewhere, it was a field of lava, while some had pits of poison.

“Argh!”

A feminine voice echoed in pain as the thin woman clad in black armor, golden mask, and helmet knelt down. She was missing an arm, yet she kept praying in the name of Solis.

“The might of Solis will befall you, heathen! You may kill me, but the servants of the faith will hunt you down!” She growled.

“Gods gave up on us long ago, Eighth Guardian. There is nothing in praying to them—for pain, we are eternally condemned. I’ll give you another chance. Join me! Join Anti-Light, and you shall see the true face of the church.”

The woman, weakened to the brink and bleeding profusely, looked up at the man and cursed him. “You will never win, heathen! Faith is much more than you can imagine. Your upstart Anti-light may harm a few small pillars like me, but you shall never reach the foundation!”

Bam!

He punched her face and held her by the neck.

“My name is Julius Aurelius Alexander, and you shall call me that. As for the so-called foundation… Who will care about the church when no believers are left? Who will pay you scums when there is none interested. You rule through fear, and I shall erase it… you rule through your false pretense of kindness, and I shall lift that veil.”

“Impossible! Keep dreaming, heathen.” She didn’t budge and kept staring into the man’s eyes.

Alexander shook his head in disappointment and looked towards the cloudy sky and the destruction surrounding them. “Pity, I could have used someone like you. Look around you, Eighth Guardian—look at the destruction. Do you know what’s even more destructive than this?”

Woosh!

Suddenly, a cloud of black energy appeared around Alexander’s free hand and took the shape of a long blade on his fist.

“Y-You…” Eight Guardian’s eyes widened under her mask. “Such control of darkness… The church shall never tolerate it.”

“Argh!”

She cried as the dark blade was instantly thrust into her chest, impaling her entirely and burning her insides.

With no particular expression other than coldness, Alexander brought his face closer to her ears and whispered. “The real darkness will only now ensue—because of you—as the crusades shall ravage through! Thank you for your sacrifice, Eight Guardian of Light—sadly, your death is the beginning of this world’s plight!”

“No… ca…” She lost the last remaining speck of life with nothing but fear and pain-filled tears.

She just realized she had miscalculated and made a blunder—since the start, she was the prey and never the hunter.

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