I Became The Pope, Now What?

Sky falling, the sun exploding, he could even imagine this entire life was just a dream, and he was in some sort of a coma.

But going fishing with Inquisitor High Lord? The famed, most ruthless man in the world? That was something beyond one's comprehension.

"Fishing, my lord?" Sylvester repeated in wonder.

Inquisitor High Lord nodded his armoured head and proceeded. "It is one of the few things that calms my mind and allows me to think deeper."

'My goodness, since when did he become such a softie? Or was he always like this but never showed me this side of himself?' Sylvester's mind was full of questions. But he was none to say no to such an opportunity.

After all, bonding and having a better relationship with Inquisitor High Lord could be helpful in the long run. Not to mention, Sylvester truly respected and liked this violence-loving man.

So he followed the man awkwardly on a short trek to nearby mountains. There was a lake at the start of the mountains. There were trees all around and various animals and birds making noise. The Iron Mountains were not very green, but the surrounding area was a sight to behold.

They soon arrived at the lake with clear blue water. The lake itself was not too big, likely spreading a few hundred metres in each direction, but it was surely deep in a few areas.

Inquisitor High Lord seemed to have prepared for the fishing as a large rowing boat was waiting for them at the shore.

'So he does not want anyone to hear us talk?' Sylvester reasoned as talking in the middle of a lake was the best way to ensure control of the environment.

Sylvester jumped in and started rowing while Inquisitor High Lord took out two fishing rods from the wrapped cloth. It was a standard wooden rod, but it had a strange line that was too similar to synthetic polymers from modern times.

"To the middle."

Sylvester nodded and kept rowing. It was easy for a warrior of his rank. Though he didn't even think about strength as he was busy sensing the various emotions through the scent. 'Amazing, he actually smells sweet without a taste--he's in a pleasant mood.'

But there was still a hint of rage and anger present. That was something that never left the big man for some reason, all the very more reason to be interested in his real identity and story.

"This is fine." Inquisitor High Lord exclaimed and handed Sylvester a fishing rod. "Do you know how to fish, young bard?"

Sylvester nodded silently, put the bait on, and cast the line in the water.

The sound of the fresh wind, the warm rays of the sun and birds chirping made the long silence between them much more tolerable. They didn't even look at each other, and Sylvester awkwardly kept fishing.

"Ah! I got on!" He stood up and slowly started pulling it up. He'd let loose every now and then, followed by a quick rolling back.

Eventually, he got the fish out and dragged it onto the boat. "A big one."

Inquisitor High Lord nodded and picked it up. "The Greyback, bigger than the usual. Are you hungry, young bard?"

Sylvester shook his head.

Splash!

The big man gently put the fish back into the water. "There is no meaning in violence if it does not serve a purpose, for mindless violence harms the soul and deteriorates us."

Sylvester nodded and took a seat. "Yet we stand in the middle of this war, mindless and purposeless."

"That is why we are working so hard to preserve the peace we have built. No mindless king or queen shall come in the way and create the chaos that births the worst of monsters--lobster!"

Sylvester's brows rose, confused by what that last rhyme meant. "Lobster?"

"You caught a lobster, young bard."

Sylvester looked down dumbly; indeed, his fishing rod seemed to have caught a lobster somehow. 'Lobster in a lake?'

He quickly pulled it up. "This one seems tasty. Maybe I will eat this one."

"Then the lobster has served the purpose of its life." Lord Inquisitor said and focused back on his fishing rod. "Just as all of us have a purpose to fulfil--a predestined, never changing purpose."

'What's he on about? My purpose or his own?' Sylvester wondered and finally decided to get straight to the point.

"Why can't the Holy Land simply dictate the terms to the two Kingdoms? What's the point in being so powerful and influential if the Pope can not put these foolish nobles down?" He questioned something that had bugged him for a long time. He was curious about Pope's powers.

"The faith is not above all laws, young bard. In the end, we exist for as long as faith exists. If the church became the instigator, murderous, and scandalous, then we would be no better than the foolish nobles. The Holy Father is not a fool or weak. He is wise enough to see the damage it may cause if he goes overboard.

"That is precisely what the 21st Pope, Atrox, the mad, did. He purged the church of all the centuries of infighting and power struggle. But, in doing so, he also put down any rebellion or dissent from the nobles or commoners with a heavy hand. That created extreme distrust regarding the faith, making it harder for laws to amend. And we paid a heavy price for it as the Dark Times started from then.

"In those days, so-called witches and possessed burning were as common as stepping on an ant. We suffer the consequences of his actions to this day, as many turned heretic back then, whose descendants still deny to <anno data-annotation-id="1a6b9629-1be2-746d-276a-2d450b12885c">recant</anno>."

"Where do these heretics live now?" Sylvester asked.

Inquisitor High Lord looked at the north. "Far to the north, in the lap of the Pentapeak Mountain Range. Today, they are known as Mountain Tribes."

'So this is the origin of those tribes? It's better to say the church dropped an axe on their foot with this one.' Sylvester was amazed.

"Young Bard, you must get stronger and focus on learning more about this world to fulfil your destiny. You must make allies and gain a strong foothold, for relying on just your strength will not take you far."

Sylvester nodded continuously. However, at that instant, a certain idea popped into his mind--an idea to test Inquisitor High Lord. 'He must know the plot of Shadow Knight too. Does he not feel wrong for doing such a thing against me?'

"I would love to get stronger, my lord. But sadly, certain beings out there wish to strike me down, not letting me sleep in peace for a single night. Thanks to them, now I sit in pain, for they struck me at my most crucial time with all their might." Sylvester gave all the hints needed.

And sure enough, he smelled some new emotions from the big man. Anger, sorrow, rage, doubt and fear all combined into one. It was a combination Sylvester never imagined to sense from the Inquisitor High Lord. 'He feels guilty?"

Shhh...!

Sylvester noticed Inquisitor High Lord's fist clench as it made the noise of the leather glove being squeezed. 'So you are against the Pope's plan?'

However, Inquisitor High Lord didn't say anything directly. "There are trials of fire, and then there are trials of pain--overcome those, and the lord's blessings shall rain. The Shadow Knight is a noble yet vile entity, one that cannot be reasoned with for its borderline insanity. May I know what hurts you, young bard?"

Sylvester responded quickly in hopes that this man could help him. "What happens when someone ranking up is disturbed and has to fight for his life? What happens to our veins that carry magic?"

But there was a long silence following that. So Sylvester decided to change the topic. "My lord, what were you doing in the remote, Deserte village all those years ago?"

Inquisitor High Lord's eyes flickered as his mighty strong shoulders eased down. "Young bard, you and I have much more in common than you may think, for we share a heavenly link. Without knowing it, you have helped me through--for I live today because of you."

'What in the god's name? What's he saying? I saved him? When?" Sylvester's face visibly appeared confused as a frown took over.

"Perhaps, one day, I may reveal more--for now, know that you are not alone in your journey to soar. You shall have the support of the swords of the Inquisition, who shall fight for you on every occasion.

"And my daughter... Aurora. I request you to keep her beside yourself. For years, she has lived a lonely life. She spent years training, wasting her youth among the older instructors, but she still longs for that lost time, for that warmth of friendship. I see her delight when with you, for you share a mind more mature, yet an age closer to what she feels secure."

Sylvester took a long silent breath. He was not expecting the Inquisitor High Lord to talk so much with him, even about something other than killing and purging. 'What's this man's story? He seems much more thoughtful and emotional than I guessed initially. He actually cares about Lady Aurora deeply. And... what's this sadness I smell behind these words?'

"I cherish my friendship with Lady Aurora, my lord. That is why I call her sister now, and like a true brother, I shall never leave her side. She's a warm and cheerful person who often turns bleak days into delights--Ah! I got another one!"

Sylvester quickly moved to pull the fish out. However, he tried to steer the conversation to the matter at hand now. "What should we do to bring about a lasting peace in the two kingdoms, my lord?"

Splash!

Inquisitor High Lord also caught a fish and easily pulled it out. "To bring peace, the two kingdoms need to understand where their priorities should lie. The war from the east will soon engulf us in misery if we don't prepare and become aware. Do you have anything in mind, young bard?"

Of course, Sylvester had something planned. Something sinister, but if done right, could bring about a long peace. "My lord, we have two apple trees with two rotten roots. We can save the trees and ensure their health if we cut these two--discreetly. We already have a replacement root prepared in the south, and in the north, the root travels with me."

Behind the visor, the red eyes flashed in a dangerous light as Inquisitor High Lord put down the fishing rod. "The north is simple, but how will you cut the southern root?"

Sylvester smiled, giving the look of a schemer. "Leave that to me, Lord Inquisitor. As long as I can get a few important things, I can do it."

"What of the new root in the north? She remains naive, unprepared, and weak." Asked the Lord Inquisitor.

Once again, Sylvester was relaxed as before. "Her training has already begun. Soon, she will be a firm believer and fabulous ruler."

Silence ensued amidst the song of nature. Sylvester continued to fish and awaited a reply.

But it didn't take long, as the Lord of Inquisition uttered. "You have my blessing, young bard. So proceed as we have discussed; you have my trust. Thus, may the holy light enlighten us!"

"Amen!" Sylvester exclaimed with a salute.

The war instantly turned intrusting and exciting for Sylvester as he finally found himself doing what he had planned. No more, by authority, he was confined. It was finally the time to enter the great game, not as a pawn--but as the mastermind.

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<annotations style="display: none;"><ol class="tinymce-annotation-container"><li data-annotation-id="1a6b9629-1be2-746d-276a-2d450b12885c">Meaning: Say that one no longer holds an opinion or belief, especially one considered heretical.</li></ol></annotations>",

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