I Became The Pope Now What Chapter 550

[ … words ]

Zama’tar—a name Sylvester could never forget no matter how many years pass by. The Demon was a foe that he had to defeat someday, for it represented a threat to the world, perhaps even greater than all the Grand Wizards and Supreme Wizards combined.

Slowly, Elder Krakazan started to feel better, and his injuries began to heal. He sat up and spoke with Sylvester, respect emanating from his voice. “It appears you know something about this Demon?”

Sylvester nodded and pondered how he should reveal the information. He had to weave a believable story that the dragons would find natural. And just then, he remembered the Beastkins he saved and the fact that they had seen him and Avanss emerge from Sol and board the ship.

“Avanss and I were on an intelligence-gathering mission in Sol, Elder Krakazan. I came across that name when investigating a few monasteries.” Sylvester began, portraying himself as a spy. “This Zama’tar is something many powerhouses of Sol are looking for—the Demon can single-handedly destroy the world if left unchecked.”

The dragon squinted his eyes, taking Sylvester’s words seriously. It was believable that Sylvester was a spy in Sol since elves, unlike dragons, could easily blend in with the crowd. “What is it? I was only able to see it control the Bloodlings. If I had gone closer, my battle would have been inconclusive.”

Sylvester understood that it was the dragon’s subtle way of saying he would have died. Krakazan’s pride was such that he couldn’t openly acknowledge it.

“It’s fortunate you didn’t approach the Demon.” Sylvester grimly said. “From what I’ve learned, this Demon has the power to absorb someone’s magic. I’ve read about a case of an Archwizard being reduced to a mere Master Wizard—and this was over a hundred years ago. Now, I don’t want to imagine how many wizards and knights it has devoured.”

Not just Krakazan, even Avanss was shocked by that information. But Avanss was smart enough not to show it on his face since he was supposed to be a spy alongside Sylvester.

“If I recall it correctly.” Avanss started, “Didn’t one of the Popes of the humans die fighting one of such Demons?”

“A Pope and multiple Grand Wizards—all died while trying to seal it.” Sylvester corrected him. “Many books tell about them in plenty. But this Demon is nothing like the one from before… This one has a perfectly compatible human body. Which means it doesn’t have to roam around looking for a new body to possess.”

The colossal dragon’s nostrils created flames, heating the atmosphere. The magic felt like it consumed the air. “This isn’t good for all of Beastaria. If the Demon decides to unleash its army of Bloodlings, it will bring chaos.”

‘Good thing he can think straight, at least.’ Sylvester let out a sigh of relief. Unlike some fantasy dragons, these seemed to have the traits of pride and rage but also great intelligence.

“Then I must report this to the Council of Dragonlords.” Krakazan spread his wings wide in preparation to fly away. “Mighty elf Zohron… I will remember that name. Next time we meet, I shall be the victor.”

Sylvester chuckled silently. “And I will be waiting, Elder Krakazan—Nothing can be better than a great sparring partner like you.”

“I will not show mercy.” Elder Krakazan bellowed and flapped his enormous wings, creating a storm of wind and dirt. But as he hovered above the trees, he spoke again. “These goblins pledged allegiance to the Demon—it’s better for this disease to be cleansed.”

“Agreed.” Sylvester nodded and tapped his spear on the ground. Just as the butt of his weapon touched the dirt, a large red rune circle grew around it—half a kilometer in radius. “There is no need for a pyre—for them, sufficient is my fire.”

BOOM!

Sylvester tapped his foot once, and the rune circle engulfed in flames. But surprisingly, it didn’t harm the trees, Beastkins, or Avanss, and only burned the goblins hiding all around them in great numbers. Some had dug themselves holes, and some had climbed trees. But nothing could save them.

They screamed in unison, turning the beautiful lush forest into a land of death. Eventually, the screams subsided, and the bodies continued to burn until they turned into ash. After that, a small gust of wind came from the swaying wings of the dragon and spread the ashes around—becoming fertilizer for more plants.

“Hahaha!” Elder Krakazan laughed with a resounding roar in the sky. “Mighty elf Zohron—I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I found a likable elf today.”

Sylvester smiled and gently bowed his head. He found it funny how easy it was to deal with the dragon. In a way, he felt like the dragons were a version of the fanatic, rageful Inquisitors. Only strength and majestic abilities could earn their respect—as was the case with dragons.

With that, the gigantic dragon left them alone and flew toward the gray mountains at the edge of Greenpeaks and the northern border of the Beastkin’s region.

“Zohron—about that Demon. Was everything you said real?” Avanss quickly asked, finally finding the time to inquire.

Sylvester nodded. “You remember seeing Bishop Lazark? The Necromancer? His teacher was the one who made a pact with this Demon for a longer life. The Demon fooled him, gave him immortality but a fragile and old body—while taking his Archwizard magic away. Part of the pact was that the Demon gets a perfectly compatible body, which he received before vanishing.”

“This is going to be a big problem then,” Avanss mumbled and quickly walked over to a big tree. “I need to inform the King about this. All elves must be—”

“Wait.” Sylvester patted Avanss’ shoulder. “Before giving him a half-baked report, let’s investigate this Demon first. Don’t forget; I’m the bane of everything dark that exists in this world. I want to confirm something before we send missives around the world about this.”

“Confirm what?”

Sylvester’s voice had never been that grim before. However, the situation called for it. “Avanss—if the Demon can absorb someone’s magic, what’s stopping it from absorbing physical abilities too? What if… the Demon’s body has evolved after taking in the properties of a dragon, goblin, elf, all beastkins, vampires, giants, and whatnot?”

For a very long moment, there was a nervous silence between the two. Avanss breathed loudly, his nostrils flaring. His brows furrowed, creating lines on his forehead, and his eyes only knew dread by merely considering that situation.

“If that’s true… nothing will be able to stop it,” Avanss muttered. “When do we go to investigate?”

Sylvester looked at the Beastkins, scarcely hiding in the distance. “Let’s finish this job first and meet with the Inquisitors. If I’m right, they likely have a few weapons I had developed to deal with Bloodlings.”

“Let’s be quick then.” Avanss didn’t waste time and rushed past Sylvester to make the Beastkins walk.

Sylvester silently gazed toward the northeast, where the Divider Swamp existed. ‘So this is why I’ve been sensing this disgusting, sinister scent since Landfall? But… if I can sense it from this far away, I’m afraid…’

…

Following the battle and interaction with the dragon, their procession didn’t stop, nor did they find any trouble on their way. As they entered deeper into Beastkin territory, the dangers decreased and eventually became nonexistent.

By the end of the day, they arrived at a muddy road used by the major Beastkins clans, as it connected them. As they walked, they came across a few other traveling Beastkins, most were on foot, and others were using simple carts pulled by non-sentient animals.

It was truly a sight to behold to see a giant man with an elephant head walking down the road while talking with a humanoid giraffe. And a short man with the features of a chicken steering a small cart pulled by regular bulls.

Although the procession was clearly the focus of all eyes, especially the two elves, some stopped and asked what happened. Thankfully the Beastkins Sylvester had saved cleared all the misunderstandings with great enthusiasm.

After all, they had just witnessed him defeating a dragon with little effort. Strength was respected, and the law of the jungle applied everywhere—and they were quite literally in the jungle.

“There it is!” Avanss exclaimed, noticing multiple streams of steam wafting up in the distance. “That’s Greenville City, the place where multiple herbivore clans live. It’s one of the five major clans and cities in the Beastkin region.”

Sylvester nodded and continued to walk. Soon enough, they arrived at the entry gates of the so-called city. In Sylvester’s definition, it looked more like a widely spread camp than a city. The boundary walls were made of wooden stakes, and the buildings were either made of mud or wood or were simple tents of animal skin stitched together.

Only a few rare buildings were made of bricks that went at most three floors high.

But the population seemed decently big. Creatures of all sorts of species walked around and watched them enter the city. The guards, two dogkin males, initially interrogated them for a short while and then allowed them to enter—guiding them to the building of the clan heads.

It was one of the rare few brick buildings—large in the sense of its width, but its height was only three floors. It was beautiful, however. There were large statues of various armored beastkin warriors, and fountains were spread around in the gardens. All the gates were massive, and the ceiling was also high—understandably, as Beastkins came in all sizes.

However, the most surprising thing was a monastery-like building on the side, built exactly like any other monastery in Sol.

Quickly, three old men came out of the building—a cowkin, a rabbitkin, and an elephantkin—quite old from how they looked, as they were using big walking sticks. Their loose tunics wrapped around their bodies, hiding their wrinkles and hunched backs.

“Friends from Alfia, I am Elder Norsmin,” The elephantkin spoke, his voice loud and boomy but hoarse, akin to an old man. “Your gracious help will not be forgotten. This we promise in the name of Solis.”

‘Ah, so far away, yet it feels like home.’ Sylvester thought to himself, as he didn’t expect to hear the name of Solis much.

“Thank you, Elder. I’m Zohron, and this is Avanss. We won’t stay here for long, but before we depart, I wish to meet with the Inquisitors stationed here.” Sylvester requested politely. “We have a message to deliver to them.”

The big elephantkin looked at his fellow elders. “Who are we to stop you from meeting them… But I’m afraid you can’t converse with any Inquisitor.”

‘No scent of lies or animosity. King Rathagun must have already sent the letter of truce to them.’ Sylvester reckoned but remained curious.

“May I know why?” He asked.

The elephantkin looked down. His big eyes seemed saddened. “A week ago, there was a mutiny among their ranks. More than half of the Inquisitors left Greenville, while those who opposed were killed or greatly injured.”

‘Ugh… Niel’s disease has spread here too.’ Sylvester scowled.

Sylvester rubbed his chin, finally understanding why Aurora didn’t receive a reply. “Who led this mutiny?”

“That merciless man—their Inquisitor High Lord, Cardinal Darksaber.”

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