I Became The Pope Now What Chapter 176

[ … words ]

Sylvester looked around and saw the soldiers slowly looking at him and others behind him. Mainly it was the retainers of the Jartel and Raftel families. They appeared confused because the Counts were alive. So why was that shout made? The news was still spreading like wildfire around the battlefield.

It made the soldiers go crazy and fight mindlessly, aiming to enact revenge for killing their lords.

“They want to kill the Counts!” The soldiers of Duke Grimton screamed, seeing Sylvester dragging the fat Count behind him. He had no choice but to drag him since the big man was too slow.

Sylvester tried to create a halo behind his head as he sang under his breath. “I am not the attacker; I am the saviour.” He shouted while pausing for a second. “I need to get the Counts out of the battlefield, or you can say goodbye to your homes.”

The soldiers, a few of them, believed Sylvester as he was a holy man. But a few other mad ones just went forward to attack and kill him. Joining the Duke Grimton’s men, they all pouched on Sylvester, Felix, Gabriel and Bishop Raymond.

Sylvester wasn’t going to take any chances, however. He quickly used his second strongest element, fire. But he also had to use the Earth element now, as this was a do-or-die case for the Counts.

Boom!

The move he initiated was called Earth Drops. First, Sylvester used Earth elemental magic to scoop a big chunk of earth from the ground in the shape of a sphere and made it fly into the sky. Then, he made it spin fast and made cracks appear in the earth sphere.

The goal was to make the rocks fly around and fall on people like raindrops. But these would be fast enough to cave in a skull. However, Sylvester didn’t stop there and used Fire magic to make every little chunk that flew off catch fire.

Thud!

Argh!

Aaaa… My eye!

The little and big rocks fell around from the rotating earth sphere in the sky not too high. Sylvester used that mayhem to make his way towards the horses and made Count Jartel sit on its back. But then he had another problem.

The Count was too fat and he could not share the same horse. Meanwhile, Felix had Count Raftel to take care of and share the horse, and Gabriel had Archbishop Raymond.

“Leave me behind… get the two counts to safety!” Archbishop exclaimed. His eyes showed complete determination and faith in his own decision. The man was ready to die today.

But, what Sylvester saw in that man was not an Archbishop, but a possibility of a cardinal who shall stand behind him when he aims to win the throne of Pope. Complete loyalty was earned in situations like these, after all.

“No! You won’t survive here in close combat. Archbishop, you leave with Priest Gabriel. I shall grab a new horse and follow you behind. Remember, we need the two Counts alive or else this whole conspiracy will never see an end.” Sylvester ordered them and slapped the horse of Count Jartel.

“Felix! Keep Count Jartel in the middle. Use Earth magic to make the enemies fall… and fire magic to burn them in the pits!”

“See you later.” Felix had enough confidence in his and Sylvester’s abilities that he didn’t waste more time arguing. He quickly sped up his horse and made his way through the crowd.

Once they were gone, Sylvester looked around. ‘Okay. Where do I find a living horse now? Most of them are already dead… or immobile.’

He started to move around while still heading towards the distant hill. He came across many horses silently standing while the soldiers fought around them. At one glance, he noticed they were injured so much that they could not move. Being wounded in the leg was the end of life for a horse. So Sylvester showed mercy now and then and stabbed the hearts of those horses.

He was now less attacked by the mob since he didn’t show hostility towards most and was also in clergy robes. Still, only the men of Duke Grimton would come and try to kill him—each one of them would. That proved him one thing. ‘So it was Duke Grimton who wished to harm me?’

He knew he needed to find a horse as quick as possible. So he picked up his speed and chased after the knights who he saw were still riding on the horses in the distance. He prepared his spear to throw and kill the man riding on it.

Boom!

Before he could throw his spear, the earth in front of him blew open as if something landed on the ground from up in the air.

He quickly pulled his guards up and kept the spear ready in his left hand and fire magic in the right. ‘A wizard, finally?’

If a wizard was ready to go in the middle of the battlefield, then they must either be crazy or stronger than the general strength of the crowds. And from the manner of arrival, Sylvester was willing to bet on the later prediction.

“Hehe… I finally found the golden boy!”

The dust settled soon, and a middle-aged man appeared from the landing site. It was a black-robed man with a bald head, pale skin, no eyebrows and a crest of the Duke Grimton on his chest as a small metal pin.

“Who are you?” Sylvester inquired as he felt the scent of rage from the man. The fight was unavoidable; he knew it.

The wizard proudly proclaimed. “I am Arch Wizard, Viscount Willington, under the service of the gracious Duke Grimton.”

Sylvester nodded and looked around. There were a lot of knights from all sides gathered as they watched Viscount Willington land. They were also taken aback by the man falling from the sky.

A sudden smirk grew on Sylvester’s face. One that made the body of Viscount shudder. “You made a mistake coming across me. It does not matter if you’re an Arch Wizard or a Grand Wizard.”

“What do you m-“

“Everyone!” Sylvester boomed aloud, as loud as his throat could allow him. “I am Sylvester Maximilian! I am God’s Favoured Candidate and the famous Bard of the Lord. If I die here at the hands of this… VIscount Willington, the lord under Duke Grimton! Then do tell the Holy Land who it was… Do tell the Holy Father… the Lord Inquisitor… That a nobleman killed the Bard of the lord!”

In an instant, the grin on the face of Viscount Willington vanished, and his shoulders fell. He looked left and right and noticed the anger dwelling in the eyes of the men of Raftel and Jartel. Even a few soldiers of the Duke appeared angered as they previously didn’t know Sylvester was Lord’s Bard. They were just told to kill a man with blonde hair if they saw him.

Sylvester kept a kind smile and started walking towards the Viscount. At the same time, he started chanting to prove he was telling the truth.

In an instant, a big halo appeared behind Sylvester’s head as he moved closer and closer to the Viscount.

♫O’ noble, don’t let your greed overcome the faith.

Don’t call upon yourself heaven’s wrath.

And if you dare harm the Lord’s messenger.

Be prepared to find your life in danger.♫

“Oh lord! What have I done…!” The knights in the vicinity who saw the whole exchange first-hand fell to their knees and started praying for forgiveness as they were aiming to kill Sylvester not long ago.

Sad for them, the knights arriving freshly didn’t know what happened, and they just slashed their swords at the kneeling throats and stabbed their spears in the praying hearts.

Sylvester silently passed by the Viscount, who appeared already defeated. He could smell the scent. It was full of chills of fear and anxiety.

Just as he passed by, Sylvester whispered. “So, my Lord. Since we have so many witnesses, are you willing to call upon the wrath of the Holy Father? The man who let me play on his lap as a babe? Are you willing to call upon the ire and the fire of the Lord Inquisitor… the man who found me in the first place?

I’m sure you’ve heard the stories of him… how he burns not just the sinners but also their bloodlines.”

A bead of sweat slid down from the Viscount’s temples to his chin. He was nervous and scared. That was clear.

Thud!

He fell to his knees and asked for forgiveness. He knew that as long as the Holy Land found out he even touched a hair on Sylvester’s head with the aim to kill him, his bloodline would be over, and if anyone was lucky to survive, then they’d be cursed.

In this world, a noble’s greatest fear is not wars or schemes, but the church. Because if they anger the church, then not even the King of the lands can save them. Viscount knows this very well. “My Lord… I didn’t mean to kill you—I was enticed and manipulated to do so! All the lords under Duke Grimton have been offered the land of Count Jartel if we manage to kill you and the Count.”

This was news to Sylvester. “Why would Duke risk earning the ire of the Holy Land?”

“I don’t know, believe me! All of us nobles initially were against the mobilisation, my lord… that was until he offered us the lands of the Count. We believed that all risk and punishment would be borne by the Duke, no matter what happened. After all, we’re merely the little lords under him.”

Sylvester could feel the fear oozing from the man, and there was no scent of lies. So he believed him. But it was still a lie that the man didn’t wish to kill him. The only mistake he made was proudly telling his name, which led him to this moment.

Sylvester looked into the pleading man’s eyes with indifference. The man was an Arch Wizard. A really powerful rank, no matter what level.

‘Wait… I can use this dunderhead for my survival!’

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