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I Became The Pope, Now What?

I Became The Pope, Now What?

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Chapter 128 128. A God

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Chapter 128 128. A God

“Murder? Who would do such a thing? We are all very peaceful in the village.” Said the old Archpriest.

Sylvester didn’t react much and looked around the room. “Since when do thieves decorate houses with perfectly laid out jewelry just out of their respective boxes? Look at them. It’s all ‘arranged’ on the floor.”

Hearing him, the Archpriest and Sir Dolorem looked around. They had to agree the observation was correct. None of the jewelry was thrown randomly but instead placed beside their boxes.

Sylvester looked at the people around coldly. “Bring me the people who quarreled with this man or had any competition or animosity. The one who committed this sin stands amongst you.”

As soon as Sylvester declared that, everyone started to look around themselves. But Sylvester was looking at the whole crowd in general and noticed a few heads that were not turning and a few people who were slowly trying to move back in the crowd.

They didn’t need to be the killers, but they likely knew the dead man from their reaction. So, he whispered to Sir Dolorem on the side and told him to gather all of them.

Nearly ten men and women stood before him in a few minutes, with their faces turning pale in fear.

“One of you killed this man. Now I will ask you questions one by one, and you must answer me truthfully, and if you don’t, I will consider you the real perpetrator.” Sylvester threatened them as he walked left and right in front of them.

He first started with the man on the left. “Did you know him?”

“Y-Yes, Lord Bard. I bought clothes from him some days ago… and we had a little fight because he was selling them at a high price.”

Sylvester nodded and asked further. “Why did you kill him?”

The man appeared flustered and started to look away from him. He stuttered while replying. “I-I did no such thing… Lord B-bard… We may have differences, but I would never take his life. I am a true believer in Solis. Taking another man’s life is against the faith.”

‘But the same faith will have no qualms in killing you for no reason.’ Sylvester thought and silently scoffed. But he waved the man away. This was not the murderer he was looking for.

Then Sylvester repeated the same with the other nine and asked the same questions. By the end, he only had three people left, two women and one man.

“Why did you kill him? I know you lied the last time, so if you don’t want to be punished for the crime, you better tell me the truth.” He ordered her.

The middle-aged woman, a typical village woman with a husband and two kids, was looking so nervous she may have shed a bucket full of sweat by now. “M-My Lord… can I speak to you on the side… privately?”

Sylvester looked into her eyes and smelled the anxiety. Since he was not an animal out to humiliate her, he agreed and stepped to the side where people could see her but not hear. Then, she whispered into his ears.

Sylvester sighed after hearing her story and told her to stay standing there. She was not the killer, but she was close to the man. It turns out that the dead man was rich and somewhat of a philanderer. And his favorite hobby was offering desperate poor women money to sleep with him. In times when there was nothing to eat in the village, it was the perfect playground for him.

She, too, exchanged her self-respect so she could feed her kids since her husband lay dead due to the man-hunting the previous lord of the land organized.

Sylvester didn’t reveal her problems to the others and continued to talk with the remaining two. The man said he was at home with his wife and kids and was not lying. Then finally, the turn came for the young woman, maybe in her early 20s. She seemed pretty enough to be desirable to men, but seeing her nervously fiddling with the hem of her skirt, Sylvester knew there was something.

He told her to come to the side without her asking and talk with him alone. “Tell me everything.”

Her blue eyes were on the verge of tears, and her long blonde hair fell over her face, making her appear frenzied. “I-I am Darcie Brown, my lord… I… I just… my parents died, and I was hungry…”

Sylvester saved her the embarrassment. “I know, he pays money to women to sleep with him. Tell me why you killed him?”

“I’m pregnant… and I went to tell him. But David tried to kill me and… and I pushed him. I didn’t want to kill him, my lord! I was just… scared.”

Sylvester nodded as he looked at the room, and there was indeed a table where the head could have been bashed. The corner, in particular. But, he had to give her credit for thinking of making it appear like a robbery. But she didn’t take anything.

He looked into her blue eyes and saw real fear, desperation, and anxiety. He could, by law, kill her right there. But…

“Does David have a family?”

She shook her head. “He had a wife. She died years ago in childbirth with the baby. P-Please… I didn’t mean to hurt hi-”

Sylvester raised his palm and stopped her. “This is what you will do now. First, you will wash your face and look pretty. Then you will go to the village chief and ask him to find you a good suiter for marriage with whom you shall stay forever loyal as long as he’s kind to you. You are a pretty woman. I’m sure there will be many willing to marry you–and I will pay your dowry. I will give you until tomorrow. Get this done before I leave.”

Her eyes sparkled suddenly, not expecting such a thing to come out of her confessions. She quickly wiped her eyes and nodded strongly. “I will… thank you… thank you, Lord Bard.”

Sylvester walked back to where the dead body was placed. The villagers were looking at him, some looking in from the window and some peeking from doors. Some had even entered the house.

He rubbed his chin and walked to the table behind the body. He then touched the corner of the table and showed he found some liquid by trying to rub it between his fingers. “Hmm, it seems the death was an accident! He fell back and slammed his head onto the table’s corner. The place of injury makes it clear too.”

The people gasped in awe and fright that such a thing could happen at home. But then the Archpriest asked, “What about the jewelry?”

Sylvester knelt down and put all the jewelry into their boxes one by one. Soon, no empty boxes appeared. “See, nothing was even stolen. Only one gold ring is missing, and that’s on this man’s finger.”

“Holy Solis–such a sad end to life.” Archpriest sighed, convinced by him.

Sylvester then picked up all the boxes of jewelry and even more stacks of coin pouches from the cupboard and handed them to the Archpriest. “Since nobody remains to inherit him, the church must use it for the village’s welfare. Buy more food since winter is coming.”

Not only the Archpriest but also the people thanked him and bowed a little as he walked out without saying anything more. Then, without asking, he went to check all the wells he had dug, all the composite toilets and the fields since more than a month had passed.

Meanwhile, Sir Dolorem informed Archpriest Norin about the events of the Sphinx Town, of course, not the part about Void Keepers. The deaths were attributed to Desert Cannibals instead.

Sylvester and the rest helped the village with a few more composite toilets until the night.

“Marvelous, you made these?” Bishop Lazark was all praise for Sylvester after seeing how he had helped the village of his old friend.

Then, by nighttime, the news was announced that a woman in the village was going to wed the next morning. Sylvester publicly announced that he’d pay her dowry and personally bless the couple.

Then, night fell, and finally, after so many days, Sylvester slept in some peace on the terrace of the monastery. The wind was cold–but on his bed, Sylvester just rolled–left to right and repeated. His mind would not allow him to sleep calmly. His existence was in danger now, and he needed to find a solution.

What path to take? How to survive in this world? Of course, he wished to get stronger too. But, what he heard from Null in the Sphinx town, the words ‘your golden halo is too small–for the great silver outshines all.’ These words had taken hold of his mind.

‘Does this mean there is someone those Void Keepers already consider the next Pope? How many people are vying for that seat?… The Pope isn’t even that old yet.’ He thought but could not come up with answers.

“Maxy… no sleep?” Miraj asked as he noticed his dear son in anguish.

Sylvester patted the cat and scratched his head. “Just thinking. Don’t worry. You go to sleep.”

Miraj nodded, snuggled beside Sylvester’s neck, and tucked himself into a furball. “You will always have me, Maxy… forever.”

Sylvester didn’t doubt him since only he could see him, and the furry boy was immortal. But, the real question was, could he–live that long?

…

Pa!

Pa!

Small crude firecrackers went off as Darcie Brown walked into the monastery altar in a modest, clean gown. There was no such thing as a wedding dress for commoners.

She now had a man beside her, around her age and decent looking.

Sylvester didn’t waste time and donned his mitre on the head. Then as the bride and groom came, he placed the Law of Light Book between their palms and used a white silk cloth to tie their hands.

After that, Sylvester spoke a few words. “The Lord has willed for these two to form a union, in mind and body, but above all, in the soul. The lord asks not for tributes but only that the man and the woman never forget their roots.

“Timothy Bane and Darcie Brown, you are to, from this day, be the backbone of one another. When one falls, you must lift the other. In the eyes of the holy light and law–I pronounce you as one united soul.” Sylvester used one free hand to spread some light from his palm at the tied hand. It was not needed, but he did it anyway, so the man feared a bit in the future before hurting the woman, or vice-versa.

“May the holy light enlighten your paths, and brighten your lives. May you bring forth many little sparks of lights–Amen!”

“Amen!

The crowd of villagers cheered for the new couple in the village. And Sylvester had already awarded the dowry of five Gold Graces, which was a lot for commoners.

With that, it was time to leave as Sir Dolorem had fixed their carriage and had taken a horse from the village. They were already waiting for him in the carriage outside the monastery. They had to leave quickly since the journey ahead was going to be long.

The entire village came to see them off since they never knew if they’d even meet Lord Bard again. They were expecting a new hymn from him, but all they saw was his back leaving.

“My lord!”

He stopped and looked back. It was Darcie running to him in her wedding dress. “What happ-”

“Lord Bard!” She just jumped to hug him very tight, and her eyes bawled out silently. Sylvester didn’t respond with a hug but patted her head like a kind senior. “What happened?”

She shook her head and released him from the hug. “I-I thought I would di… Thank you… you made everything so delightful… so easily… when you had no reason to. I don’t know about others who meet you but–you are a god to me.”

Sylvester could understand where that feeling was coming from. Most nobles, rich, and even men of faith would have used her for fun rather than helping her. In this world, nobody helps someone for no reason. But Sylvester saw no reason not to help when he could without spending any extra energy.

Sylvester sighed and patted her head like she was a child before boarding the carriage.

“I am no god; I am what you all were supposed to be.”

As he left, she just waved her hand, not understanding the meaning behind his words. All she knew was that her life had changed because of one man, kind, strong, and wise–a god–in her eyes. 𝗼𝘃𝗹.𝗼𝐫𝗴

[A/N: Read the note below. Btw, one more chap and prologue coming next.]

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