I Became The Pope, Now What?

Chapter 705 704. Leyon Of Sol

Clack!

The mother spider worked its way around, and its children sorted everything they received. Boxes upon boxes, as big as a dozen meters wide and deep. Filled with pages with dotted codes, a hundred, a thousand, a million—unquantifiable.

Project Sky Eye worked flawlessly under the hidden floor of the Pope's Palace. Intelligence gathered from every part of Sol, from every single noble house, whore house, tavern, gambling den, monastery, and even the battlefield. The ever-expanding network was still not at its full capacity, and yet the information coming into that room seemed impossible to manage.

But magic was magic, and miracles were a common sight in the land of Solis. Complex machinery working on magical energy continued to sort everything, from coded dots to words, then sorted based on the area, the category, and the severity.

Anything coming from monarchs was in one place, Dukes, Marquis, Counts, Viscounts, and Barons all had different categories. The Sky Eye wasn't in the sky, but in the pockets, in the buttons, in the little bracelets, rings, or Rank Plates issued to all wizards and knights by none other than the Holy Land.

And at its help were only a select few men: Cardinal Rex, Cardinal Lazark, Cardinal Gabriel, and Pope Sylvester. Of course, the undeads were a great help in ensuring operations and notification methods in case something important was found.

Reports were compiled by the hour and reviewed. In case anything happened, it was reported.

Just like now.

…

Back on the upper floor of the Pope's Palace, Sylvester called the Sanctum Council to come and report as soon as he finished the day's Holy Court.

After the dramatic turn of events that he easily predicted and steered, he decided to act openly, but slowly; allowing all the pieces to fall into their places before he even made one move. The aim was minimal violence and minimal resistance by any.

"Start preparing to interfere in the war. Leyon has already won over Gracia and Highland Kingdom. Riveria and Blackhart are left, but I have no doubt they will fall as well. However, we must wait until that happens so that I don't have to reprimand or fight our allied monarchs. By simply dealing with Leyon, we'll be taking back all of Sol—as the new rulers," Sylvester declared to his most important Cardinals. There were even the older Cardinals present who lived through the purge, such as the ex-Saint Wazir, Ethias Lovecraft.

After a brief silence, Gabriel tried to speak and resume the discussion, "What would you have us do, Your Holiness? Anything specific?"

"I'll do all the fighting alone, but if everything goes well, there won't be any fighting needed. You all only need to ensure efficient administration across Sol. Once Leyon falls, the territories he has conquered in the West will be without any leaders. Bad elements could arise, or law and order could deteriorate into excessive riots. We don't want that, so put all your focus on administration.

"First Guardian, Raz, you will go and set up your office in the West, at the Marashia Combined Economic Zone. Oversee the security and administration from there. Guardian Julius, you will do the same on this side of the continent. Saint Medico, send any spare relief medicinal material you have to the areas that require it.

"Inflation also harms bellies. So ensure no illegal hoarding of food takes place, the prices remain stable, and nobody sleeps hungry. We had built grain storages a long time ago, so it's time to use it. Remember, we can't afford riots or an unhappy population at this stage."

Sylvester gave plenty of instructions to each of them. Although there weren't enough Guardians of Light, there were still plenty of intelligent minds in the council. There was also Felix, and Elyon, who were free to focus on the security aspect of the two sides.

But, he still proclaimed himself a man of God, a man of faith, and loyal to the service of the Church. So, with the kings and queens who surrendered to him, he chose to travel to the Holy Land in order to receive the holy permission to form his Empire.

With just a handful of soldiers, he reached the Pope's Palace, and under the scrutiny of hundreds of Holy Knights, he was guided into the Holy Court. The place was packed with people, more than ever in its history. This time, there were fewer commoners, and many more nobles and Clergymen.

"Enters the self-proclaimed Emperor of Sol, Leyon of Sorland," the herald shouted once the gates opened. "Following him are Queen Isabella Gracia, King Atrox Highland, King Kaecilius Silvanus, and Queen Xylena Blackhart."

Amidst the intense murmurs of the waters, the entourage walked into the hall, between the onlookers, and arrived at the base of the platform of the Pope's Throne. There, they all knelt down without a word spoken.

Clank!

Sylvester rose from his seat then, and with that, the crowd went utterly silent. He raised his spear, with his body covered with fine regal armor made by the dwarves. He walked down the stairs slowly, making metallic sounds with his armored boots.

"Why have you come here?" He asked.

Leyon, still in his normal-looking leather armor, looked up. His brown eyes and average looks hid his achievements well. "I wish to receive your blessings before I formally create the Leyon Empire, Your Holiness."

"And why should I bless you for such?"

"Because I believe in the guidance of Solis. Born as a mere commoner, I have arrived here only because the Lord blessed me. I have the mandate of the light, Your Holiness. I am the one chosen to spread peace," Leyon added.

Sylvester finally reached the main floor and stopped a foot away from kneeling Leyon, looking down at his face. "Yet, all you have done is spread chaos and death. You tried to repair what was never broken."

Leyon smiled and silently stared at Sylvester's face. Just as the last time he had seen it; Just as warm and powerful as that time. His lips shivered, and his eyes started to well up with unknown tears. He felt no fear, nor pain. There was only happiness and excitement—yet tears.

"Y-Your Holiness…" Leyon called him.

Sylvester leaned down a little, his eyes filled with compassion and admiration as he whispered. "Well done, son of Solis."

Leyon broke down in silent tears and smiles, prepared for what was to come.

"Thank you… For giving me a reason to live. A goal so grand, so divine, so kind… to a mere commoner… Thank you, for your blessings—"

Thud!

And so there was blood, a head on the floor, and a body still sitting. So sudden, so crimson, for the grand, divine hall, it didn't seem fitting.

But this was the reality, and in pursuit of life, there was no place for morality.

'You won an empire by yourself, and the history shan't forget. May your soul rest in peace, Leyon of Sol… May you find the holy grace, may you feel the Lord's embrace.'

I Became The Pope, Now What?

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