I Became The Pope Now What Chapter 783

[ … words ]

For Sylvester, setting up the hospital wasn’t hard. He didn’t have any personal wealth, and he just had to make a simple request to Gabriel. Initially, the plan was to open a simple infirmary, but it turned into a massive, full-fledged hospital before most could realize it. For that, Ella was to be thanked. The genius girl, Xavia’s spoiled adopted granddaughter, was a perfectionist. Or perhaps it was OCD.

Once the first floor was completed, Ella proposed more and more ideas, and eventually, they ended up with a multi-story building designed in the church’s architectural style. It was then even named after Xavia, officially named Mother Xavia Care Hospital. It was, in a way, a silent appreciation of the entire order of Bright Mothers as well.

But Sylvester didn’t work there, and let Xavia handle the entire operation. He instead had a different pet project, a construction on which he spent most of his time. No use of magic, no use of his godly powers. Brick by brick, digging with a shovel, he worked from the ground up.

“Seriously, they’re my daughters, too. Isabella guards them like a dragon hoards gold. So what if they earned a scratch or two? I was merely showing them the way of the blade. They’re all I’ve to pass down the Sandwall steel and legacy.”

Of course, Sylvester wasn’t alone. He had a good jobless friend who had just been scolded by his wife and thrown out of the home. Felix shoveled and laid bricks with Sylvester.

Sylvester chuckled as he laid the bricks of the massive structure he had planned. “You started with steel instead of a wooden practice sword. Isabella was right in scolding you.”

“What do you mean? That’s how you train.”

“No, that’s how your father trained you, and if you’ve forgotten, you despised your father for it.” Sylvester jolted his friend’s memories. “Be mindful of your strengths, Felix. You’re a platinum knight. A sneeze from you can flatten a village.”

Clank!

Felix stopped and scratched his chin. “You know… you’ve got a point.”

“I do that often now.” Sylvester chuckled and kept laying bricks like an ordinary man. “Bring them over sometime, Isabella and kids.”

“Will you bless them?”

“I will.” Sylvester agreed right away.

“Ah, I half-expected to be on my knees, begging and whining for that favor. Still… can’t believe I’m friends with the same god I’ve been praying to all my life. Hell, the whole world’s been praying to you.” Felix trailed off, blabbering about Solis. “How does it feel? Do you hear all the prayers?”

“I do.” Sylvester nodded. “I remember the time you wished for the world to end so the Priest exams could be delayed.”

“…”

Felix awkwardly started handing more bricks. “I was… young.”

“Blasphemous,” Sylvester added.

“Come on, children are supposed to have pure hearts.”

“I also remember the time you prayed for rain during our outdoor class with Great Mother Grace so her robes would cling to her body and her curv—”

“Ahahaha!” Felix roared in laughter to suppress Sylvester’s words. “That’s enough… I get it, I’ve been messed up in the head since birth.”

But it was impossible for Felix to keep his mouth shut. He’d missed his best friend for a decade, and even in bricklaying, he found joy. He talked about all the adventures they had together, and Sylvester reminisced back.

Slowly, the sun started shifting down, and red hues of sunset coated the vast construction site where just the two of them were at work. They both knew it would take years for them to finish it at that speed. But time was what they had plenty of.

“What are we even making? A castle?” Felix asked as he finished the last batch of bricks for the day. “You’ll live in it?”

“I’ll be a tomb.”

“For whom?”

“All of us,” Sylvester replied, eyeing his friend with intent. “A time will come when we’ll be gone, Felix. Our memories will fade too. But the lessons we learned and taught this world must remain. And through our tombs, the lessons will be immortalized.”

At first, chuckling, Felix soon looked at the construction site seriously. “D-Do you know when I’ll die?”

“Not soon, that’s all you should know.”

“And you? You’re Solis, you’re infinity itself, aren’t you?” Felix asked back.

“That’s my existence, while this body has an end date. I won’t be here forever, Felix.”

Felix stepped closer to Sylvester and patted his shoulder. “After me?”

“Yeah,” Sylvester replied, no smile, no fear, no emotions. He already knew when, where, and how his last day would be spent.

“HOLY SOVEREIGN!”

Clank!

Sylvester lowered the tools and looked around to find Aurora rushing to him, jumping through vast distances, her face covered in an intense frown.

“Holy Sovereign! I-It’s Xavia! That fool… A pilgrim stabbed her!”

“Let’s go then.” Sylvester calmly walked.

Aurora paled in worry. “You need to hurry!”

“Mum’s time hasn’t come yet, Aurora. Control your emotions.”

Aurora looked at Felix and received a nod. She didn’t know, but Felix did. If God said it was fine, then it was fine.

####

Sylvester arrived in the chaotic hospital. The less imposing Inquisitors had already arrived and taken over the building’s security. The entire floor where the incident occurred was cordoned off, while the other patients and their families were moved away.

Sylvester entered the room where Xavia was taken. The Pope, Gabriel, was already there with Healer Hendrix nearby. Too many powerful men and women were present. But Xavia looked well, awake, and talking.

“Sylvester!” Gabriel was the first one, and the only one to call him. The others were too confused about what designation to use. “She’s well now.”

Sylvester nodded and got to the side of the medical bed. For a swift moment, he raised his hand towards Xavia’s abdomen, and just like that, the wound was no more, nor the scar. Only Xavia felt it as she wore a loose gown, hiding her wound from others.

“Where is the attacker?” He asked.

“He’ll be gravely punished,” Gabriel assured. “He’s already in custody.”

“Take me to him.”

“Max,” Xavia called for him and grabbed his hand. “Don’t be angry. I’m safe and healthy now.”

“I’m not angry. I will only speak with him. His time in this world isn’t over yet.” Sylvester replied, showing a particular lack of emotion. Most expected him to get furious. Then he eyed Gabriel. “Come along, Your Holiness.”

Awkwardly, Gabriel scratched his chin and followed out. Being called ‘Your Holiness’ by the very god whose faith he was supposed to head felt awkward.

Going out, Sylvester followed Gabriel down the staircase, entering the basement of the hospital. Most administration, governmental, or church owned buildings had holding cells underneath them.

Guarded by nearly fifty Inquisitors, the security there was high that day. Heck, even the big man himself was there, without his visor, however.

“The man has no honor. He sits confined, Father.” The Inquisitor High Lord stepped aside, revealing the metal door his massive frame was covering, as if guarding the greatest sinner of mankind.

“Father?” Sylvester repeated. That was a first for him. He was rather enjoying seeing everyone have trouble deciding what word to call him with. Sadly, the downside of being all knowing was that jokes don’t land that often, unless he willingly stopped himself from being all knowing.

The Inquisitor High Lord nodded fervently. “I pondered over the days, considered every phrase. Then I recalled my first memory of that day, and I knew right away. You are the highest preacher, the mightiest servant, the father of the faith we wallow, and us the children who follow.”

Sylvester chuckled, aware of what he was recalling. The time when the Inquisitor High Lord was a child.

Being called father made complete sense.

“Why didn’t I think of that?!” Gabriel exclaimed right then. “You’re absolutely right, Lord Inquisitor. He is the Father of all… That’s it! I will release a circular to recognize the new title.”

Of course, Gabriel’s reasoning was entirely different. Sylvester was Solis, and by default, everyone’s father.

The Inquisitor High Lord pushed the door open.

Sylvester walked inside. The room was tiny with no windows, painted all white, and brightly lit up with solarium crystals. There was a single chair in the middle, made of metal, where the man who stabbed Xavia sat.

He looked like any other ordinary man from a small town. Short beard, tired face, panicked eyes, dirty khaki tunic, trousers, and dirty, torn boots.

“F-Forgive me… I—”

Just as the man tried to stand up, Sylvester raised his hand towards him, freezing him back in the seated position. “Stay seated, Samuel Smith, I know you’re no assassin. I know why you did it, I understand your anguish, but I don’t agree with your reaction.”

By then, Gabrie, in his full Pope attire and the large-bodied Inquisitor High Lord, entered. The two men scared Samuel far more than Sylvester. His pale, slightly tanned face grew numb, and his eyes teared up in pure horror.

“Father, do not forgive him. Let me make an example of him. We can’t allow them to abuse their emotions as an excuse to harm Bright Mothers and healers.” Gabriel requested earnestly. “What he did is all that matters.”

Sylvester shook his head, eyeing the man the whole time. “I am not here to forgive, nor to punish. But to tell you how insignificant your existence is. A farmer from Newland village, a husband, a father, with everything going right in his life. But then your son fell sick, and you brought him here. You were told that he had a blood clot in his head and that it needed to be removed by cutting it open.

“You agreed with it. Healer Hendrix and Mother Xavia personally tended to the surgery and removed the clot. But then five days passed, and your son didn’t wake up. You were previously informed that he wouldn’t wake up soon. Healing would take time.

“Two more days passed, and you became worried. You demanded answers, but no answer satisfied you. Nothing made sense to you. Your wife cried, and then you attacked Xavia Maximillian, my mother, in rage, demanding answers you already knew. Is that right?”

“Y-Yes…” Samuel nodded.

“Lies!” The Inquisitor High Lord boomed in anger. “You speak utter lies in the presence of Father?”

Sylvester unemotionally shook his head, showing his disappointment. “You didn’t attack my mother because of worry for your son. You didn’t attack my mother because of your wife’s tears. You attacked because it was a symptom. Since the day you left your village and came here, you have spent every coin in your possession to drink ale every night. But a week ago, you spent the last of it.

“You begged for ale at taverns, from travelers. You demanded it from your wife and slapped her in the hospital right before your unconscious son’s body. She cried, but you heard nothing. Days went by, and your anger exploded, not for your son, but for lack of coin to buy the poison you cherish.

“Samuel Smith, you are a failed man. I have seen children stand strong through unimaginable hardships. You justified attacking my mother with your son’s state? So, you believe in an eye for an eye? Shall I stab you?”

“N-No! Please…”

“Your son fell sick. He received that brain clot not out of bad luck. He received it when you struck his head that night when he tried to save his mother from your drunken, rageful beatings. A young, five-year-old boy, wiser than you, protected his mother. And you, his father, the devil in his eyes, struck with the bat, at his head.”

By then, Samuel was a crying mess, filth dripping from his nose, his face scrunched in shame and misery.

“Save those tears, you’ll need them for years in your confinement.” Sylvester saw the man hopefully look up at him. “Still hoping to be forgiven? If I let you go, you will promise me to change. But in two years, you will face a bad harvest, and using that as an excuse, you will drink. You will return home in the evening, full of drunken rage, and beat your wife to death right before your son’s eyes. Your son will be taken by the church, and you will be arrested.

“But, by keeping you confined, your wife will remarry in a year. A good man running a small woodworks shop. She’ll be loved and cherished, and your son will thrive. Healed, intelligent, he will receive peace and care, and education. At the age of twenty-three, he’ll become a lower magistrate. He’ll feel pride, his mother will feel pride, and so will his step-father—All simply because you no longer exist in their life.”

Writhing on the chair, but unable to move due to magical restraint, Samuel growled like a madman, his face filled with rage again. “How? How can you even know that? You are no god! You have no right t—”

Bam!

Usually peaceful, but Gabriel moved closer and smacked the man right on his face, probably dislocating his jaw. “You waste of Solarium! Have some shame and just kill yourself. The world would be a better place without your kind.”

“He won’t,” Sylvester replied dismissively. “He’s a coward, too weak to swing that knife on himself. He’ll live for thirty more years and die a miserable, agonizing death. Punish him according to the law.”

With that, Sylvester turned around and left the small room.

Back inside, Samuel groaned out words. “W-Who is that priest?”

“You blind fool.” Lord Inquisitor sneered. “That is the previous Pope, Sylvester Maximilian. Your ignorance is a sin’s tool. Your Holiness, have him sent to mines to work like a mule.”

Samuel stared at Lord Inquisitor in complete defeat. There was no way out.

“I’ll announce his punishment later,” Gabriel said and left the room as well, rushing and quickly catching up with Sylvester. “How? How do I stop cases like him, Sylvester?”

“You can’t, Gab. That’s the downside of living with free will. There will always be men and women willing to destroy their minds and bodies with poison. But still, you should do what you can. I suggest a good world tour. Travel to every town and village as the Pope. See their lives, understand their struggles, and help them. Bring a team of healers with you and heal people for free. Be their emotional and moral support, that’s what the Church of Solis must become. No longer a military… just a faith that is adored.”

Gabriel agreed right away. “You should come along then.”

“No, I can’t. I’ve got a construction project to work on.”

####

The Next Morning, back at the construction site.

Sylvester arrived early as he never slept. He stayed with Xavia the entire night, and once she fell asleep, he returned to lay bricks. Later, as the sun rose, his dark-haired free handyman also arrived, dressed in a loose tunic and trousers, ready for some bricklaying.

“Good morning, Daddy.”

“…”

Bam!

“Hah! Caught it!” Felix caught the brick Sylvester threw at his face. “I heard Gab’s declaration. You’re the Father now? Too bad you’re a celibate, or else it would have been kinky—Daddy.”

Bam!

This time, the brick teleported from the sky and hit Felix in the head for good.

“Fuck! That’s cheating, Sylvester!”

Sylvester just chuckled and let him join.

It was truly confusing and also refreshing. Felix simply didn’t give a damn that Sylvester was Solis. Felix still acted the same as he had since the day they met.

And I cherish him for that.