I Became The Pope Now What Chapter 558

[ … words ]

Sylvester saw the ship leave his sight on the horizon where stormy clouds were brewing. Since Cardinal Bison was going along with them, he wasn’t worried about some pirates attacking them, even less so with the Holy Land’s flag hoisted on it in the second half of the journey.

“Nya?”

Sylvester looked down. Miraj’s face was peeking out of the little baby carrier he had made. The cat had woken up by being squished between Sylvester and the woman. His chubby cute face yawned, and his big round eyes blinked in confusion. His whiskers were wrinkly since he had been napping for days.

“The princess finally awakens.” Sylvester jokingly said and straightened Miraj’s whiskers by pinching them between his fingers.

Miraj again yawned and grabbed his hind legs with his front paws as if he was stretching, curving into a furball. “That was the best sleep ever! Nyaaaah… What are we eating, Maxy?”

‘Doesn’t he remember what happened?’ Sylvester wondered and sat down. It was goblin territory anyway, nothing to be scared of.

“You had some nightmares and were asleep for many days. We were stuck in that monster’s void but got saved somehow.” Sylvester told Miraj about the happenings and quickly set up a small fire to cook meat and bake a few bananas. “Anyway, how do you feel?”

“Sleepy.” Miraj continued to yawn. “I love sitting in that little bag. It always felt so warm.”

“You mean the baby carry?” Sylvester looked at the pouch he had made from his cloak. “It’s for babies. Aren’t you the one who adopted me?”

“But I’m so small.” Miraj retorted, “Size never tells age. I’m very, very older than yo—”

Miraj stopped mid-sentence and began sniffing the scent of tasty food being cooked. His salivating mouth pulled him all the way to Sylvester’s lap, just a few inches away from the crude pan Sylvester had made with metal manipulation.

“Don’t touch the meat or banana before I tell you to.” Sylvester lowered Miraj’s slowly rising, greedy paw. “I need to talk to the Lord Inquisitor and Sir Dolorem first.”

Miraj was still tired, so he just got cozy on Sylvester’s lap and closed his eyes again while savoring the tasty scents. Sylvester, meanwhile, closed his eyes and used the Solarium Web.

‘Where is she?…’

‘Eat flesh, fuck flesh, make more flesh…’

‘Catch them…’

Sylvester’s brows suddenly creased as he heard strange voices entering his ears. He hadn’t even used the Solarium Web fully yet and had only tried to consume the solarium in the plants near him using elven magic.

He tried to focus on the sound while using the same technique. He focused on the one talking about eating flesh.

‘I want more… Give me more of this…’

Sylvester was almost certain about what he was hearing by that point. But, at the same time, he wanted to test what this new discovery was all about. He tried to get as close as possible to the voice. Just as he felt there was no more improvement, he noticed the darkness in his closed eyes changing to a blurry scene that gradually came into focus.

The colors were all shades of green and brown, but he could make out what he was seeing.

‘This… A goblin camp… They’re eating Beastkins men.’ Sylvester correctly guessed and also noticed the feminine voices coming from another side that he couldn’t see. ‘I can look through a tree? Then why can’t I jump to another tree to see?’

No matter how much he tried, he could only stay in that single tree. It made him speculate about two possibilities. One that the tree was unique in some way. Two, it wasn’t possible to jump from one tree to another.

But it was a matter to explore later on, so he refocused on contacting Lord Inquisitor across the sea. This time it consumed a lot more solarium than usual since the distance was so vast. But Sylvester persevered.

Eventually, he got through the distance and found the Solarium Signature of the Inquisitor High Lord somewhere near the Holy Land. “This is Sylvester… Can you hear me, Lord Inquisitor?”

“As clearly as your melodious wailings decades ago. Convey me your orders, Your Holiness. What must I know?” Lord Inquisitors replied as usual.

It almost made Sylvester feel a strange, awkward quiver run down his body. But he spoke quickly. “Lord Inquisitor, this is my advice and order to all monarchs and forces of the Holy Land. Do not spare any pirates. Kill them all no matter how big their crew—human or not.

I just saved a group of humans, men, and women, from an elven slave convoy here and sent them back with Cardinal Bison—They’ll soon reach the shore.”

“Your demand is my command. It shall be done, Your Holiness.”

Sylvester continued speaking. “Moreover, do you know about any new Inquisitor High Lord appointed by the Holy Land after you left? Because a man named Darksaber is here, claiming to be one.”

“I know not what transpired after my departure. This Darksaber, does he have markings on his armor?” Lord Inquisitor asked, likely trying to match the features with someone in his memory.

Unfortunately, Sylvester hadn’t seen the man yet. “I’ve yet to exchange blows with this man. Until then, he remains a mystery. I’m afraid he caused a lot of harm to the Inquisitors here. A Demon has taken hold of Beastaria’s Divider Swamp—as strong as a Supreme Wizard. Pass the word to those who must know.”

There was a long silence from the Inquisitor High Lord’s side. “It appears your trials on the divine path are never-ending. But one day before you, the whole realm shall be kneeling and bending. Good luck, Your Holiness, for hardships, your hymns will only become further melodious—to create a world more harmonious.”

“Haha, you should be a bard too, Lord Inquisitor. You have a way with words.” Sylvester finally said what had bugged him since he met the old man.

“Hah…” For almost a split second, it felt as if the Inquisitor High Lord chuckled. It was a shocking turn of events for Sylvester, having never seen the man show anything other than anger.

“I will give you further details once I find something. Take care until then, Lord Inquisitor.” Sylvester ended the connection with that.

But he wasn’t done and immediately connected with Sir Dolorem and Dagorith, who had traveled with him but got separated in Greenville. It was easier to talk with the two men as they were much closer.

“Sylvester, this side—any updates?” Sylvester said.

Promptly, Sir Dolorem’s voice replied. “Lord Bard, we’re sitting before one of the elders of the dwarves of Whiskeypeak. They enjoyed our sample ale and wish to purchase more.”

Sylvester smiled and gave further orders. “Tell them it was smuggled from the dwarves of Sol. A pirate crew brought it to Hydra Bay, and you bought it. If they ask who the dwarves of Sol are, then just tell them about the Bard liberating them and settling them in the demolished Sandwall County.

The dwarves now live in peace, smithing and mining to their heart’s content at the Pentapeak mountain range.”

Sir Dolorem understood the task well. His main goal was to create an interest among the Whiskeypeak dwarves toward the dwarves of Sol. “Understood, Lord Bard. Anything else?”

Sylvester paused for a split second before talking. “Stay away from the Divider Swamp. A Supreme Wizard tier Demon is residing there—I almost died there.”

“Please be careful, Lord Bard.” Sir Dolorem sounded worried, as expected, but remained as professional as ever. “I must stop speaking with you now, or these dwarves would be suspicious.”

“Go ahead.” Sylvester immediately severed the contact and opened his eyes again. He wasted no time in taking the cooked meat off the fire and served them on plates. Then he woke Miraj up and fed the tired cat before eating some himself.

He didn’t spend much time there and quickly gathered all his luggage in a backpack, placed Miraj back in the baby carrier, and headed toward the east, deeper into the goblin region. “The goblin camp is along the path to Deca Imperia… let’s kill as many as we run into today.”

Miraj, like a happy little spectator, poked his head out of the cloth pouch and looked ahead. “Aye, Aye… Goblin blood will drop-drop, their heads we’ll chop-chop, then stomp them to make pop-pop!”

“…”

“That’s the spirit, Chonky.” Sylvester marched right into the dark forest. The trees were so dense that they almost concealed the sky and only allowed a few rare rays of light to filter through. The ground was also covered with outgrown roots, and sometimes, they turned out to be snakes. However, Sylvester was so heavy that those snakes always died a painful death.

“Nom nom nom… we got no calm calm calm…” Miraj, back to his happy cheerleader mood, sang to get rid of the boredom, cleansing Sylvester’s lonely heart with his voice.

Sylvester kept his gaze ahead and his senses sharp to keep the surroundings in check. Other than some minor creatures, he rarely sensed anything. One or two goblins would occasionally pass by, but they weren’t worth stopping.

He walked quickly and eventually came close to his destination. Wanting to kill the goblins all at once, he decided to go with a few explosives and a spare longsword. “Chonky, cough out a high-grade sword and explosives.”

“Aye aye… uwaaa…” Miraj opened his mouth and vomited the treasures.

Sylvester quickly picked them up and jumped ahead. He could already smell the disgusting scent of widespread death, fear, hopelessness, and anything related to negativity.

Swoosh!—Sylvester jumped beyond the dense bushes and landed in the middle of the goblin camp. He prepared the explosives to throw quickly. But he hastily stopped moving and looked carefully.

“Wait… They’re dead!”

From what he could see, all the goblins in the vicinity were dead, chopped into pieces by a strong and sharp sword. Inside the small huts were bodies of dead goblins as well, and some clothless women were alive—belonging to many species, from human to dwarven or Beastkin. Blood stained every inch of the ground. The goblins’ flesh and innards were gruesomely spread everywhere.

“Come out!” Sylvester had already sensed someone strong nearby.

Trrrr…!

A tall figure appeared dragging a long, dark gray sword on the sandy, gravel ground. Dripping with blood, it still had some flesh stuck on its spikes. Meanwhile, the man who held the sword didn’t appear any less imposing.

Donning dark robes with gray armor, a cape made of thin black cloth, a face covered with a visor over chainmail, and reddened gauntlets—the man’s appearance practically screamed the one name that Sylvester had heard since the moment he had arrived in Beastaria.

“Darksaber, I assume?”

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[A/N: See the man in armor.]

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