I Became The Pope, Now What?

Sylvester tried to think of every scenario that could be going on inside the cave. He tried to think what would happen if he went in there. But half of his mind told him not to go because it wasn't worth it.

But then the other half reminded him that Sir Dolorem was a loyal man, and the only reason the latter was in this town was because of him, even if it was a duty for the man.

'But I can't be held responsible for his choices, I warned him, but he accepted the task to go. So whatever happens to him now is not on me.'

However, despite his best attempts to tell himself that he should forget it, he could not. So he stayed, seated alone at the side, watching the cave. Finally, the sun was slowly setting, and the town folks started to leave, seeing no hope again.

"If even an Archbishop could not kill this thing, what can I do? Will my light magic work on it? What do you think, Chonky?" He asked, not because Miraj was smart but because the latter was all he had.

Chonky glanced at the cave with a glum expression. "Sir Dum Dum is good. I take his food… and he talks about his son and wife daily."

"Yeah, he does talk about them a lot. The poor man hasn't had a vacation in years." Sylvester muttered.

He decided to wait longer and see if anything else happens. He tried to keep himself optimistic that an Archbishop shouldn't be so weak. But when he remembered the face of Archbishop Lucas, the old hunched-back man didn't really instill confidence in others.

"Deacon Sylvester, you should return to the town and rest. We cannot do anything before help comes." Priest Boroly tried to console Sylvester.

"But Holyland is a day away from here. So even if that Bishop took the boat downstream, it'd take them until the next morning to reach here," Sylvester argued.

"There is nothing we can do." the Priest replied.

"I know… so I shall wait here."

As more time passed, Sylvester felt empty in his heart… it wasn't guilt but general emptiness. The feeling of realizing that he would not see the person he used to take for granted anymore took over.

It reminded him of someone, someone significant in his past. Diana had left him abruptly, leaving him just the memories of the time they spent together. He was helpless back then and couldn't save her, as he was right now.

p But something was different here. Sir Dolorem was probably still alive and unable to move, silently waiting for death to come. So all he had to do was go in there and drag the man out—which sounded easier said than done.

'Am I a coward for being afraid to save Sir Dolorem when I know he's alive?'

Today, he realized, yet again, how hard it is to fight one's own mind. 'If I go in there, chances of me beating that thing are less than none. But can my light at least hold it at bay?'

He looked at his palms, then at the rank-plate on his chest. A mere Adept Wizard wanting to do what Archwizards could not? 'I shouldn't even think about fighting but only rescuing.'

"Chonky, what do you think? Can I rescue him?"

"In Maxy, I trust."

"Haha, glad to hear that." Sylvester gathered courage, and thanks to Miraj, he felt refreshed. Now all he had to do was convince the Priest to open the cave to let him in.

He took a long breath first and reminded himself of his next steps. "Okay! All I have to do is be the strongest light bulb in existence. No fire, no air… only light!"

But he knew Priest Boroly would not let him in because of common sense. So he had to do something that would probably hurt his test marks, but for Sir Dolorem, it was worth it.

'Sir Dolorem, you better learn your lesson to always listen to me after this time.'

He got up and walked to Chief Marigold, who sat not too far away with his brother and little Granddaughter. They stiffened seeing him come their way.

"Chief Marigold, I have a request from you. I shall head in there to rescue the Archbishop and the team. I have the strongest light magic in the history of the church, so it will help. But for that, you must help me hold that Priest down." He requested with hidden ulterior motives. He reckoned if he was not the one to hit the Priest, then he shouldn't get in too much trouble later.

Leeland quickly got up. "I shall lay my life for you if you ask, favored one. What's knocking a mere priest? But let me get my junior lawmen here first."

'This was easy.'

So in a few minutes, about a dozen men gathered. None of them had any kind of magical or knightly talent, but a little priest could not do much when his hands were tied.

Sylvester went to Priest Boroly and spoke directly about what he wished. "I wish to get inside and save everyone. So please open the cave."

That notion itself dumbfounded the Priest. "It's suicide! Why do you wish to go there? You have something they don't?"

"You are correct in that regard." Sylvester simply showed the man his palm and threw a magic beam of light at his face, blinding him. "See, I have a certain magic that's the bane to the dark creatures."

"Ah!" When Priest Boroly tried to adjust his eyes, he felt a sudden push from behind him and his arms being pulled behind the back. Then he felt his hands being tied.

Realizing, he warned. "Are you going to disobey your examiner now, Deacon Sylvester? This will get you disqualified."

'Not if I can save Sir Dolorem.'

"Why would you do that? He has nothing to do with this. We just felt like tying you up." Chief Marigold objected, knowing very well it sounded dumb.

Sylvester used runes around the base of the giant rock cover of the cave and moved it two feet so he could slide in. A gust of cold air hit his face as he looked into the darkness. All the mental preparation he had started to wither, for he was experienced in killing men, not ghosts.

He took a long breath and looked back once. "Priest Boroly, if you hear my shouts, please open the cave quickly. Chief Marigold… pray for me."

Bam!—He shut the cave close and turned towards the dark road ahead. It was pitch black and terrifying, so he raised his right palm and started to emit light magic from it. He then started walking deeper into the cave carefully, looking at every nook and cranny to ensure he wouldn't get attacked from behind just because he didn't notice the dark creature… whatever it was.

As he walked deeper into the cave, the ceiling started to get higher and the pathway wider. He'd use more Solarium to make the light stronger so he could see the whole frame of the cave in front of him.

Not only that, he started to smell something strange once again. This was not from the environment but from his power. It felt bitter… so bitter that it was becoming unbearable.

"Chonky, keep an eye on my back since you can see well in darkness." He instructed.

"Maxy, who don't you shout for Sir Dum Dum?"

Sylvester shook his head quickly. "And invite whatever monstrosity that resides in this cave? No, thank you. I may be acting like a dumb horror film character, but I wish to be the one who survives in the end."

"W-What is a film?" Miraj asked.

"It's… let's talk about this later. I must focus on the front." He stopped talking and prepared his other free hand with Fire magic as he was taught that Fire and Light were two things that usually worked best against dark creatures.

He could see his mouth producing steam as he breathed. His fingers were turning cold as if he was in the cold mountains. 'Stay focused…'

He kept telling himself to be careful, to keep all his senses at full alert. However, even after half an hour of walking, he saw no signs of a fight.

'How deep did they go in?'

Grrr…!

All of a sudden, he sensed the sound of gravel falling on the ground like rain. Sylvester felt goosebumps over his body as he mustered the courage to keep walking. Even Miraj was scared and hugged Sylvester's neck while looking back.

"Ah! There's something!"

He found light in the distance, but he didn't run. Instead, with a steady speed, he arrived at the spot and found a magic lantern on the ground. It was still working, which meant they were not too far. So he picked it up and put it on his waist.

But beyond that point, he found signs of conflict at every step. There were scratch marks, burn marks on the floor—blood even. They kept on increasing until he stumbled across a body.

When he noticed it from a distance, his heart shook, hoping it wouldn't be Sir Dolorem. This time he rushed to look. "It's one of the bishops… but why is…"

There was no head on the body, ripped apart forcefully apparent by the many long veins and other neck organs. He knew what a body beheaded with a blade looked like, so this raised many alarms.

"Chonky, keep looking above my head now." He ordered.

He also noticed various flesh wounds that resembled a spear's work. But none of the men had taken a spear with them, so this meant the creature had something sharp with it, most likely fangs.

Sylvester deduced all possibilities and prepared to use Earth magic instead, as the best way to stop something sharp was to create a deterrence—not fire or light.

He carefully took the next steps forward since the danger was near. The ominous sound of gravel falling kept intensifying just as his heartbeat increased. The coldness also became unbearable, but the adrenaline helped.

"No!"

He saw another body in front of him. Keeping himself logical, he didn't run forwards. Instead, he prepared to cast any kind of magic needed at a moment's notice. The light from his right hand was slowly reaching the peak too.

He sighed when he noticed Bishop's robes once again. The head was also gone, ripped apart from the top. This body was also much more dismembered, and the clothes were torn apart everywhere.

The body—whatever was left of it, was riddled with ugly dark holes that oozed dark pus. The death must have been painful if the head was not the first thing to be removed, he reckoned.

Slowly, his heart fell when he realized that only Sir Dolorem and the Archbishop were left now. Sir Dolorem was the weakest, so his chances of surviving hit rock bottom. But hope brought him into the cave, telling him to keep going.

It would have been foolish now not to confirm Sir Dolorem's demise before returning.

Grrr…!

As he moved more, the noise became so much that it felt like radio noise on amplifiers. It wasn't very pleasant and tinkered with his senses.

Despite being so cold, he soon felt sweat developing on his face and his body feeling lighter. He had no idea what was happening, but he quickened his pace slightly.

He had continued on the path for an unknown amount of time when he noticed his light hit something metallic. He recognized it to be Sir Dolorem's armor at a second glance. This was it… the man he was looking for.

He rushed this time to grab the man and drag him back. "Sir Dolo…"

But it was just the armor.

"Maxy! Look!" Miraj shouted close to his ear.

Sylvester looked forward, and a humanoid frame was sitting at the side, resting his back on the wall.

He rushed, "Sir Dolorem!"

Sir Dolorem was only in his tunic and pants, looking dead and bloodied. Deep black holes were on his right arm, left thigh, and shoulder. His dark face was covered with blood and showed no movement.

He shook the man a little. "Sir Dolorem!"

"Hmm…"

"Yes!" Sylvester heard a faint hum from the man as he brought his face close.

Knowing the man wouldn't survive if left like this, he had to stop using light magic and heal him to give first aid and stop bleeding. Thankfully he had kept the magic lantern with him, so he charged it with his magic first.

'Thanks, mother. Your lessons are coming in handy.' He thanked Xavia as he treated Sir Dolorem.

He used the incantations Xavia taught him and waved his hands on the wounds, sending a green light over. The bleeding soon started to stop, but he could not cure the dark holes.

"W-Wh-"

Life seemed to return to Sir Dolorem as the man tried to open his eyes. Although it all looked hazy, he recognized the worried face and blonde hair. He tried to raise his left hand and speak. "S-S…"

Sylvester quickly shoved the hand back. "Sit still, foolish man! I am trying to save you."

But Sir Dolorem kept trying to speak. "S-Son… why did you come?"

Sylvester scoffed as he hastily treated him. "I'm a dunderhead, that's why."

"R-Run… It's too strong… it's a Bloodling."

Sylvester didn't respond since hearing the man was tough. "I'm just done… I will strap you on my back and drag you along."

"S-Sylv…!"

Sir Dolorem abruptly moved with a jolt and tried to stand up despite being in pain. His eyes opened wide as if in horror. He kept trying to speak aloud, but the injury stopped him, and the gravel noise hindered him. "S-Sylve"

Sylvester moved his ear close to the man's face. "What?"

"B-Behind you!"

"..."

The warning prompted Sylvester to stand up hastily, his heart nearly exploded, and his face paled. His shivering fist clenched, but before he could think of a magic move, he felt cold air brushing on his nape. It was pulsating… as if a breath, soon accompanied by a growl.

At the same time, a sudden extreme dose of bitterness hit Sylvester's senses, so strong that he felt like fainting from it. There was no denying to him now… it was not from the creature's breath—for it was the taste of death!

[A/N: Look at the Para comment.]

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