I Became The Pope, Now What?

527 526. The United Kingdoms of Sol



Sylvester's halo wasn't warming golden anymore but instead burned with a fierce red hue. It made the two Grand Wizards shudder and feel the chilling coldness more damaging than fire. With fear and helplessness, they stared into Sylvester's shining golden eyes. 

Yes, this was the real Sylvester Maximilian. They had seen him years ago, but now he looked terrifying, not just a smart kid. At the same time, the wide shining wings on Sylvester's back exuded a strange majestic aura that made them want to surrender—as if it were the righteous path. 

"Speak! What will you choose? To serve the Lord? Or die at the hands of his Bard?" Sylvester pressed against their chests.

BAM!

The recliners they were sitting on broke down, and the two fell to the floor with enough force to make them grunt. But Sylvester only increased the pressure, making it harder for them to breathe. 

"We accept! We accept your rule, Your Holiness! The Demons who sit in the land of Solis are our enemies—we serve you!" Karlson said, his brown eyes full of terror. 

"He's right… We shall serve you, the right side of history!" Timothy followed. "May the Holy Light enlighten us!" 

Sylvester nodded and released his hold on the two. But he made sure to tell them who they served and what were the consequences of betraying him. "Thirteen Grand Wizards, one Supreme Wizard, and countless men pledged allegiance to me—The four new Kingdoms of Masan, Warsong, Gracia, Highland, and Blackhart—all of them serve me! I hope you'll make the right decision because if you betray me, there will be no mercy, only death, for your heresy!" 

Karlson and Timothy were Grand Wizards, not fools. After hearing Sylvester list out the people that serve him, they feared him even more. Having known about Sylvester's disappearance for the past six years, and the downfall of Masan, they quickly connected the dots and understood it was Sylvester who orchestrated it—just like how he made Conrad the King of Riveria. 

"We dare not betray the faith," Karlson responded. 

"Never," Timothy added. 

Sylvester felt satisfied by the scent of utter fear and anxiety developed in their hearts. "Then you two shall behave as usual. When the armies arrive outside the city, do not fight, and do not obey Conrad's orders—you serve me and the faith from now on." 

"W-Will you destroy River City, Your Holiness?" Timothy timidly asked. 

Sylvester stepped back, releasing them. "No, it will simply be placed under new management. Now leave, and remember… I'm watching." 

The two men quickly got up while covering their crotches with towels and rushed away. They didn't dare to glance back even once, fearing that Sylvester would change his mind. 

"That was easy," Sylvester muttered and took a seat on one of the recliners. "Now I just need to kill the remaining two Grand Wizards, but not now… let's wait for the army to surround the city." 

"What do we do until then?" Miraj asked while also lying on Sylvester's chest and resting. 

Sylvester suddenly grinned. "Nothing much… but since we have nice ponds here, I think… it's time the cat takes a bath." 

"Nyooooo…!"

Bam!

Before Miraj could fly away to freedom, Sylvester grabbed him and hugged him tightly against his chest. "Chonky, you're one smelly boy. I haven't given you a bath in months. What will Mum say when you meet her? That Lord Chonky became Lord Smelly?" 

"..."

Miraj calmed down, letting his paws droop in defeat. "Fine… this one for big mum." 

Sylvester chuckled, carried Miraj to a small pond, and gave him a complete wash, from shampoo to massage to a magical air dry. By the end, he looked even more fluffy than before, and of course, that made it even more satisfying to hold him. 

"Maxy, I wanna do something after you become Poopy." Miraj started, using his usual funny words. "I wanna go to Beastaria and try finding others like me. I can't be the only one… right?" Miraj asked while resting under a tree shade with Sylvester. 

'I'm sure you're one of a kind, buddy.' Sylvester had come up with many theories over the years, and in none of them was Miraj just a normal cat. 'You were probably experimented on by some sick wizard in the past.' 

But he couldn't tell him that just yet, not before he had concrete proof for everything. 

"Of course, we'll go to Beastaria very soon, Chonky. We will travel the entire world and explore every nook and cranny. There are the Sand Continent, Central Continent, and many more places out there." Sylvester cheered him on. "We'll make many new friends, and, perhaps, find you a wife." 

"Wify?" Miraj tilted his head. "But I don't want any… I want Maxy to have wify though. Then I will always have someone to play with." 

"Haha…" Sylvester laughed. "Not going to happen in this life, my friend. I've made peace with my life. I just want long-lasting peace… live alone on some secluded farmland, grow my own food, and just… be happy." 

"Me?" 

"Of course, you and Mum will live with me. Just the three of us." Sylvester replied, and in an instant, they both found themselves daydreaming about such a day. For Sylvester, the thought of not having to worry about his life, the world, and others' schemes, was like heaven. 

For Miraj, the ideal life was sitting on the porch of a house on big mum's lap and seeing Sylvester chop wood, carve something, build something—with only the sound of insects in the summer and occasional noise from Sylvester's work, along with Xavia's soothing voice. 

"Ah… I wish it'll come soon." Miraj and Sylvester said the same thing at the same time. 

BOOM!

Ting!

Ting!

"They're here!" Sylvester sprang to his feet. The sound of bells and the single shot of the cannon was the message to citizens—the war was upon them, prepare themselves for the worse. 

Sylvester picked up his spear and cracked his knuckles before making his way down towards the King's Royal Court.

He reckoned that in the future, if a history chapter was written about him, Conrad would be named the last King to fall. But he didn't fall because of his strength, but because he was an ignorant pawn. 

"Halt!" 

Sylvester didn't stop and walked past the group of four guards patrolling the corridors. 

"I said halt!"

The guards raised their swords at him. Sylvester just shook his head and pushed them aside, "You don't want this, buddy. Trust me." 

Sylvester ignored them again and walked downstairs toward the main ground floor of the castle. The guards kept following him behind while shouting, but never physically attacking since Sylvester's armor looked very expensive, meaning he was not someone ordinary. 

"Halt!" 

Once again, the guards standing at the Royal Court's gates shouted. But Sylvester went past them and gently kicked the door open.

Woosh!

A small gust of wind came out and brushed against Sylvester's face, fluttering his hair. He looked inside. The Royal Court looked completely packed with all sorts of minor and major lords of Riveria. Everyone had a frown on their face, and Sylvester could guess what they were talking about. 

"May the Holy Light enlighten us." Sylvester bowed his head a little. "It's been a while, Your Majesty." 

"Sylvester?!" King Conrad jumped to his feet, his ashen blonde hair flowing. "How did y… You're back… welcome back! I heard murmurs about your return from the jaws of death! I'm delighted and blessed!" 

'Playing innocent?' Sylvester played along and walked forward.

"Yes, it was tough six years. So many backstab, so many enemies, but in the end, I vanquished them all. From simple nobles to Emperor Mirmasan's bloodline, at last, they all fell." Sylvester spoke, delivering veiled threats to the open ears. 

Conrad understood it. He was also a good schemer, after all, just not as good as Sylvester. "Sylvester, I'm afraid I must implore you to help me again. Riveria is in danger, and Kaecilius has yet again begun a rebellion, this time with King Highland—if Riveria falls, the food shortage will destroy Sol." 

Sylvester made a worried face. "Indeed, with the mutiny in the Holy Land, who knows which noble stands on the side of the Demon, and who stands on my side—with the Lord. Come, Your Majesty. I will broker peace between you two. It is safe to speak with them from the city walls." 

Conrad looked at his younger brother and the Grand Wizards.

"No harm in talking," Timothy said. 

"Agreed," Karlson added. 

Conrad found some confidence in their words and stood up. "Then I will once again be a burden to you, Sylvester. As my chief advisor, I hope you can help me settle this dispute. I will then see to it that my armies and the elders stand with you in the Holy Land." 

'Changing sides now?' Sylvester hated men like Conrad. At best, he could tolerate someone changing sides once, but Conrad was a sly man who'd constantly change sides whenever it benefited him. 

"Let's go." 

So, Sylvester and Conrad, along with the Grand Wizards and the council of ministers, rode their horses through the empty streets of the city and arrived at the boundary wall, which was currently laden with soldiers of Riveria trying to protect the gates. 

"Step aside! You King is here!" The royal guards pushed the ordinary soldiers aside and made their way to the edge of the wall. 

"Good Solis!" Conrad exclaimed at the sight. The enemy army was massive, and was busy creating a camp at a safe distance. "It's King Highland who I'm battling this time… Not Kaecilius." 

Sylvester agreed. "We must end this before more of Highland's soldiers arrive, Your Majesty." 

Conrad agreed. "I have sent the summons to my vessels as well. However, their armies won't arrive soon enough." 

BOOM!

Suddenly, a thundering sound reverberated, and King Highland landed very close to the city wall. "Long time, Conrad—I see you've grown to be just like your father." 

Conrad clenched his hands. He despised his father more than anything, enough to have killed him and the entire harem of concubines and their offspring—he despised being compared to the old man. But he tried to stay calm as too much was at stake. 

"How did I offend Highland for you to take such an action?" King Conrad questioned. 

"Hah!" King Highland laughed aloud. "Action? Boy, you committed utter heresy! Despite knowing the Holy Land has been taken over by a heathen, you continue to support him—send resources and pledge your army to the heathen! How dare you betray my faith? How dare you betray the trust of His Holiness—Sylvester Maximilian?!" 

King Conrad's heart sank. He knew Sylvester was close to Highland, but not this close. To him, it was a simple relationship akin to his, based on mutual benefits. 

"His Holiness?" Conrad muttered those words and turned to look at Sylvester. "Y-You…" 

Sylvester was looking at Conrad too, and moreover, the Spear of Infinity's blade was pointed at Conrad's throat. 

Conrad panicked. "Kill him! Elders! Attack!... What are you doing?" 

To Conrad's growing fear, he didn't see his loyal Grand Wizards taking any action. So he tried to look behind to the best of his abilities. Sadly, his heart only sank further, and weakness took over his bones. 

"NO! Why?" 

Right there, Grand Wizard Timothy and Karlson had placed their swords on the throats of Grand Wizard Ritviz Riveria and Noland Riveria—instantly crippling the powerhouses. 

Sylvester pressed the spear further, gaining Conrad's attention. "You betrayed me, Conrad… You stood with a heathen." 

"I… I'm sorry… I shall pledge my loyalty to you! Make a Blood Contract with you. I only did it to protect my Kingdom, Sylvester… Understand me." Conrad pleaded, seeing no way out. He was a prideful man, but that was before he became a King. Once he tasted the luxuries of the throne—the fear of losing it surpassed the fear of anything else. 

"No mercy," Sylvester replied. "You've fulfilled what I needed from you, Conrad. You kept Riveria peaceful and off my back. But I never trusted you… nor your father… nor your brother Romel."

Conrad tried to step back, but his legs seemed frozen in place. "Kill me… But l-let my wife go… she's pregnant." 

Sylvester took a long breath, for he knew he was no angel on this day. He was a demon of Solis. He had to do whatever it took to attain absolute, unquestionable power—no matter the sacrifice. 

"I'm sorry, Conrad—In the house of God, heresy finds no mercy." 

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