I Became The Pope Now What Chapter 537

[ … words ]

Sylvester watched as Avanss moved toward his small bag and took out a book. It looked old, and its pages were made of something that was certainly not paper. Its leather-like cover was intricate, made with numerous patterns that Sylvester easily recognized.

“What is this?”

“Since you’re quite capable of fighting already, I reckoned you’d appreciate something simpler yet interesting. This, my nephew, is the Book of Ancients. It has remained a cherished heirloom of the Eldaron family.

The book dates back tens of thousands of years, and this is the sole surviving piece that stood the fire that burned down our library right around the time the faith of Solis came into existence.” Avanss placed the book on the table and pushed it towards Sylvester.

Sylvester looked and corrected Avanss. “You seem to have the wrong idea. The title on the cover says, Tome of Ancient Gods, not just Book of Ancients.”

Avanss’ face lit up with delight. “So that’s what the strange characters mean!”

However, Sylvester hesitated to touch the book. It might be some cursed object. “What is this about? Why give this to me?”

“Because this tome has remained undeciphered throughout our elven history. It’s said to hold vast knowledge, yet we haven’t been able to read it—the characters used in the writing are Elder Runes. After I learned about your familiarity with ancient magic back in Masan, I thought about it and told my brother. He suggested you keep this tome and perhaps find some answers.” Avanss explained.

Without wasting a single moment, he opened the first page of the tome. “So, can you read it? Can you tell me what it says?”

‘He’s more excited than I am.’ Sylvester noticed before glancing at the pages.

It was easy for him to read it, as the language used was the same as what he had learned from the ghost of the first Pope. The characters were strangely shaped in a few places, but the structure was the same.

“…It’s like a journal of sorts. Can you turn the page?”

“Of course,” Avanss quickly complied.

Sylvester confirmed his guess. “It seems that every few pages contain testimonies from different people. I think this isn’t a tome of magic, Avanss—it’s a tome of history.”

The revelation excited Sylvester more than anything else, however. He was looking for many answers, especially those dating back over five thousand years. But he wondered how much help a seemingly random tome could give and if he could actually call it a gift.

Before telling Avanss anything, Sylvester read the first page in silence.

‘I am the God of Dark Dwellers, and my name is Jilaka. The sky has one moon and one sun, and the stars’ positions are… The year is eight thousand in my name. We live ten kilometers under the ground and only come above when the planet is farthest from the sun. Otherwise, the scorching heat would instantly consume us.

‘Our numbers once thrived in the millions, but now we dwindle. The sudden war with the Narakas and his people has decimated our food sources and shattered any semblance of civility. If this continues, and we, two gods battle—I’m afraid nothing will remain.

‘Let this serve as a warning to those who come after—In unity, there is opportunity. In disunity, there shall be nothing but lunacy.’

Sylvester looked up at Avanss and told him the story as he read it. “…It says only one moon. What does that mean?”

Avanss rubbed his chin. “Hmm… I think I know… Have you heard about the faith of Luna?”

“I have seen their ruins spread around the continent. What of it?” Sylvester remembered the location in the Vine Forest. “They’re extinct, aren’t they?”

“Yes, but do you remember their sigil?” Avanss said. “It was a crescent moon, and they’re almost fanatical about it. We also have ruins of the faith of Luna in Beastaria. The folklores say that initially there was only one moon, and the second moon gradually formed over time—that means the faith of Luna existed during an era when the second moon appeared as a crescent, not a fully rounded object.”

“Then this God of Dark Dwellers lived before the faith of Luna.” Sylvester deduced.

Avanss felt excited. The tome before him was genuine and revealed the past beyond five thousand years. “Quick, see if there is an account by the Goddess Luna as well.”

Sylvester turned the pages and eventually found the inscriptions. “There is…”

“Read it.”

Sylvester obliged. “I am Goddess of the Moon Preachers, and Luna is my name. The tome has existed for eons despite the harsh times it has witnessed. From the words in it, it appears many gods have lived before me, and many shall come beyond—if I can speak to you with this, I hope you continue to respond.

“The full moon and the crescent adorn the sky. Why the new one exists and continues to grow remains a mystery. The position of the stars are… The population of this world is perhaps in the hundreds of millions. I have traveled all over the Grand Continent, but I alone remain at the pinnacle of power—goddess, they call me.

“The cataclysm has begun, and I fear we shall be eradicated within this century—if there is a world after, be careful of the world’s eye—but do not try, for it you cannot defy.”

Sylvester stopped reading at that point as he scratched his head. “If the first ones died, and then the Luna Preachers too… How did the next iteration come into existence? How are there still humans and other species? And it seems like this happened a long time ago when there was only one continent.”

Avanss rubbed his chin as well, curious to know the answers. “Look at the last page. If this is in chronological order, then the last page should have the most recent account of whatever existed before the faith of Solis.”

Sylvester did so and turned to the end. “There are no gods, only powerful creatures who like to act as gods—I used to be one, and my name was Jasaka. My fire was eternal, more supreme, and infernal.

“Yet, I find myself at a loss for the invaders of light I have to fight. My people have been gradually pushed into the Divine Desert, compelled to feed upon each other. They call me God, yet I remain helpless—my fire in this scorching heat rendered useless.

“I shall pray to the one who comes after me. Be safe, be kind—and find the evil one hiding behind.”

Sylvester was taken aback. “Jasaka… is the name of the God of Cannibals of the Divine Desert. He was alive when the faith of Solis appeared?”

Avanss mumbled to himself. “…But how did all these people write in this tome? It has remained in my family for over five thousand years.”

“Perhaps, there is something special about this book… that allows people to write in it remotely?” Sylvester wondered, now interested in other pages as well since he had only checked three of them.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t enough time for that. “I’ll read it later. For now, I have matters of great concern to deal with. The common thing we’ve seen in this is that each God and their followers perished in either a conflict or a cataclysm. This seems to suggest that it will happen with us too.”

“And we must stop it,” Avanss exclaimed.

“Which is only possible if there is peace and we’re not jumping at each other’s throats with blades. Anyway, I need to sort out the chaos at my home first.” Sylvester got up to leave. “Where will you go?”

“Can’t I stay here?”

“In this dungeon?” Sylvester had no problem with that. “Are you sure?”

“As long as I have some books and food, I don’t mind. I would like to see how things will go for you and, if necessary, keep my brother informed of the developments here. He’s very keen on giving you any help that you may need, dear nephew.” Avanss offered.

He had a few reasons to come to Sylvester. The first was to give the letter, and the second was to try and see if the relationship could be mended somehow. Rathagun yearned for his family, and he was just trying to reunite it.

Sylvester shrugged and left. “You can stay. As for help—the best he can do is stay out of it. The last thing I want is to be labeled as a traitor to the faith. I have fought and won my battles in the past on my terms, and I will continue to do so.”

Sylvester slammed the dungeon door shut and strode away to reach his meeting room. “Aurora, gather the most elite of the troops and get me a list of all the deserted villages and towns that sit alongside the Green Road.”

“What are we going to do?” She asked.

“Orchestrate a massacre.”

…

During that same time, under the leadership of the new General of the Holy Army, Sir Maximus, a garrison of the Holy Army left the Holy Land. They swiftly made their way to the first village on their route, known as Grace Village.

“Round up all the villagers, and separate the men and women—kill half of them.” Sir Maximus ordered the soldiers without a hint of emotions.

Thud!

“Noooo… Leave my wife!”

“Mama!”

Chaos, cries, and tears engulfed the once-beautiful little village. It had been named Grace because of its proximity to the Holy Land. Sadly, that grace became a curse on that day.

Within a few minutes, the entire population of the village was gathered in the open public square. Fear-stricken faces and helpless whimpers were slowly dying down as the hopelessness slowly sank into their minds. They could do nothing in the face of such brutality. It was the grim reality.

“Prepare! Raise your swords!” Sir Maximus boomed.

Holy Army men unsheathed their swords and aimed their blades at the heads of the villagers. However, not all of them were the same. Some kept their blades sheathed, unable to bring themselves to murder the innocent.

“Kill!”

Slash!

Clank!

With a unified grunt, the thousands of soldiers swung their blades with precision. Within seconds, bodies fell with loud thuds. Within seconds, the garrison of ten thousand Holy Men was reduced to mere seven thousand.

“Step back! Bring the rations and distribute them.” Sir Maximus issued the next commands.

Utter confusion spread among the frightened villagers. What happened? Why did the Holy Army suddenly kill their own soldiers? Why did the soldiers step away to deliver them sacks of grains?

“May the Holy Light enlighten us.” Sir Maximus bowed his head toward the people. “Forgive me, my brothers and sisters of faith. This minor exercise was done to weed out the traitors among our ranks—I am grateful for your cooperation, and by the grace of Pope Niel, we bestow upon each of you a Gold Grace and grains.”

“Traitors?” Villagers murmured.

Sir Maximus smiled cunningly. “Indeed, the Holy Land is full of them. Heathens who worship the imposter—elven blooded Sylvester Maximilian.”

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