I Became The Pope, Now What?

Chapter 151 151. A Cold Night

Sylvester finished his meal and prepared to move out as soon as the twenty-five men platoon reached him. He just wished to reach the Count's land as soon as possible because if they mobilised their armies before he reached, it would become tough to convince them to move back. Nor would they give him time to find the real culprit.

"Sir Dolorem, let's take a walk," Sylvester called the old man along. Thankfully, this time Lady Aurora didn't go along, nor did Gabriel or Felix.

Sylvester and Sir Dolorem walked around the town as they talked about little things. The people would, however, from time to time, pray to him and ask for a blessing. Some would even bring their newborns.

Sir Dolorem chuckled, seeing all that. "The only difference between the holy father and you right now is in age and strength. Rest is all the same... people pray to you just as they'd do to the Pope."

Sylvester had to agree to that. "I won't say you're wrong. That's light magic for you. The halo and being a bard are truly a blessing and, at the same time, strange to me. I am yet to understand how the halo even appears."

"If we mortals could understand his plans, then we wouldn't be praying to him, Sylvester. Anyhow, what do you wish to talk about with me? I'm sure you have something in mind." Sir Dolorem inquired.

Sylvester looked left and right and then gave some instructions. "When we reach the Count Jartel, I need you to take Felix's side and team up with up., You two must act like you're not happy with me being in charge. I want both Counts to think that we are divided. Only this way will they let their tongues slip."

Sir Dolorem agreed instantly as he also saw the good in the whole plan. They needed to have the two Counts put their guards down. "I agree with your plan. However, we must also think about the possibility that the other Count does turn out to be the culpr-"

Sir Dolorem stopped speaking midway, however, as he stared at something. Sylvester did the same and couldn't help but feel sad for the person. They saw Dungface not far away, sitting on the side of the road and feeding the stray dogs and puppies while he ate too. His food appeared to be simple bread and water-like soup with nothing in it.

"As you can see, some men are born with more rights and security than others. The Count will have his loyalists who will try to stop you from exerting your authority, just for the sake of appearing to care for their lord." Sir Dolorem finished what he was saying.

"That is why the light of Solis I possess can be used to instil love and, when needed--fear. So let's not talk about that anymore."

He walked to Dungface as he was curious about something. "Hey, bud. Are these your friends?"

"Grrrr..." The dogs started to growl at him as he approached Dungface.

"Bad dog! Stop!" Dungface scolded the dogs.

Sylvester still confidently walked over. "Can you tell me about your daily schedule? What do you do every day?"

Dungface replied truthfully. "Dungface, wake up, clean the house. Then clean the street. Then clean what people say. Then at night, go to sleep."

"So you just clean places from morning to night? Are you being paid for the work?"

"Paid?" Dungface only had questions all over his face.

Sylvester sighed and moved back. 'So they use him as free slave labour? No cost, no maintenance, just give some little food, and he'll be happy. What a shame in the name of the faith.'

"Let's go, Sir Dolorem." He headed back towards the Monastery.

As they arrived, they noticed a few more horses outside the building. They realised the platoon from Holy Land had arrived already.

"Sir Dolorem, you shall command the platoon since all three of us are young, and they won't respect us from the heart." He ordered and entered.

He arrived at the large hall and saw the 25 members of the platoon kneeling before Lady Aurora. She was scolding them at the same time. "How dare you enter this town, and the first thing you did was tease a woman? Is that what they teach in the Holy Army nowadays? We at Inquisition would have quenched the light in your heart by now."

Sylvester arrived and heard everything. "Which one was it, Lady Aurora?"

A man stood up on his own accord, appearing to shiver in fear.

Sylvester nodded. "I am Archpriest Sylvester Maximilian, the overall commander over you. Since you have decided to commit such a folly, be reminded, that one more mistake and I will treat you as I would a heathen."

The man shrank his neck and looked down while humming in agreement.

"Now we march directly to Count Jartel's lands. You can have your rest there, go out and prepare." He ordered.

The platoon consisted of mostly low levelled men. The highest ranked Knight among them was a mere Bronze Knight, while the highest of the three wizards was an Adept wizard. It was not a lot, but enough for common security work.

In a few minutes, all preparation was done, and the large carriage of Lady Aurora was parked outside the Monastery. The destination was just a day away, so they didn't bother stashing their rations. At most, they'd have to stay the night somewhere in the middle.

This time Sylvester let the newcomer knights be the reinsmen of the coach while he also joined the rest in the back of the luxury carriage. There was enough space for all, and Lady Aurora didn't mind.

"Big lord! Bye-bye!"

"He truly likes you." Lady Aurora muttered after seeing Dungface frantically waving his hand like a child.

Sir Dolorem agreed, albeit disappointed. "He's a child from his mind. Sadly, the townspeople will likely end up killing him from overwork. The kind of lifestyle he's living won't leave his body healthy."

After a few moments of silence, Sylvester took a deep breath and suddenly ordered.

"Halt!"

He got off the carriage, walked over to Archpriest Milan, and looked him in the eye as if the latter was already a dead man. "Listen to me loud and clear now, Archpriest. I know you're keeping this kid as a slave here. Do you know what the punishment of enslaving a clergyman, even if just a deacon is? Death! So, do one thing until I return, you keep this boy safe and well fed. If anything happens to him, I will, by default, look for you."

"W-What will you be doing with him, Lord bard?"

"He shall come with me to the Holy Land. So remember my words, Archpriest."

Sylvester then walked over to Dungface and patted the man's shoulder. "You do not need to work at anyone's house anymore. Your only duty from today is to keep this Monastery clean, okay?"

Sylvester wasn't pitying the man because he was poor or a slave. He pitied him because the man was mentally challenged, and no matter what, he would remain like that. Unlike an ordinary child slave who can grow and become intelligent, Dungface's fate was sealed completely, and this was his forever prison--slavery without being called a slave. He had nothing in control and never would have. He was just born with a stroke of rotten luck.

So, helping a man who didn't even know what was right and what was wrong for his own good was something he did from his heart. He never expected anything in return from the man.

Dungface nodded as he smiled. "Dungface do as big lord says."

"Good. When I return in a few weeks, I will take you with me to see a huge castle. So be good here."

Sylvester then returned to the carriage, and their small procession left for Count Jartel's territory.

"What did you do?" Lady Aurora asked.

He shrugged and cryptically answered. "Just helped a puppy of a man find a home where his 'puppyness' can be utilised."

She smirked and silently looked out, having a dozen thoughts of her own. But she was finally realising as to why Sylvester was so much liked by her father and why he was being favoured by so many people. 'It seems he simultaneously has the brutality of a father and compassion of a Bright Mother. No wonder father wants him to be a Pope one day. That's what the faith needs right now.'

...

However, sadly, fate itself didn't seem to be kind towards Sylvester.

The night had started to make travelling on the offroad harder, so they all decided to make a camp nearby the road for the night. So the twenty-five-member platoon erected their tents around the large carriage of Aurora. Then, on one side of the same carriage, they lit a big bonfire and sat around it while the meat stew was being cooked.

"May I sit with you, Lord Bard?" A man came close, wearing clergyman's robes with a staff in hand, likely a wizard. "Name's Phobos, a wizard."

Sylvester nodded and gave some space on his right. Since, to his left was Lady Aurora already, while on his other side were the rest.

"Can you sing us a hymn, Lord Bard? I always wanted to see the famous Bard of the Lord!" Another man requested excitedly. With that, others also agreed to that request.

'Fine, let's start turning you into my cult then.'

He went to the carriage, brought out his violin, and started playing it. The pitch black night, the slight hint of moons under the dark clouds, and the songs of owls in the distance with the sound of burning wood elevated the mood of the small crowd.

'Can I also affect Lady Aurora with my hymns? Good thing she's sitting beside me.'

Sylvester took a long breath while adjusting himself and let Miraj curl himself onto his lap and sleep. "It got too cold suddenly, didn't it? Feels ominous."

Felix agreed as he felt smoke appearing in front of his mouth as he breathed. "It certainly is freezing tonight. All the more reason for you to sing."

Sylvester nodded and started to make hymns with a halo behind him. It illuminated the area like no fire, for it was one step higher.

♫I'm a marching soldier of the god.

I fight for your light with this fickle bod.

Look at me; I ain't no spoiled child.

My faith in you ain't so mild--oh, it's wild.

Just once more, let your light hit me like a lover's smile.♫

♫The warmth of the lord ain't that weak.

For the truth and glory ahead we seek.

It's there... just grab it--for we're folks of the same clique.

Trust me; I am not weak... my faith is not bleak.♫

♫Oh we're the sons from the holy land.

Our work is all so grand--the faith we must expand.

The heathens or the demons must all withstand

The tests of solis that befall like a father's scolding hand.♫

♫There may be so–♫"

Sylvester wished to continue singing, but when he tried to look around and see if everyone was enjoying it, he noticed something that spread dread in him like no other.

All appeared to have frozen in the middle of the air--making no sound. Their eyes remained open, and they were surely alive, but they just couldn't move no matter what.

"No, no! Why is he here now?" Sylvester cursed internally and looked left and right. As he remembered that night vividly, the sky had turned completely black with clouds, the trees were making no sound of a breeze, and the animals were so silent as if dead--like now.

'D-Did he come for me? Why?'

He looked left and right while the effect of the surroundings took over him as well, making him slow doing and slowly freezing.

"Why have you come here now?"

Woosh!

The white mist started to spread all over the place, and Sylvester felt colder than ever. When he looked closer to the front, beyond the bonfire, he noticed finally. Like a ghost, the thing in a tattered black cloak floated towards him.

Yet! There was no noise--so quiet--moved the Shadow Knight.

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