I Became The Pope, Now What?

"Your Holiness, he's still not dead," Gabriel informed Sylvester about the new prisoner, Lord Helmond. "He has eaten plenty of gold and precious stones, but he's still breathing. The other major merchants are crying to be let out."

"Don't show them mercy, Gabriel. Helmond will die eventually, there's no doubt. But the other traders must watch his misery and remember this lesson. This will be their punishment if they allow their greed to surmount." Sylvester didn't bother thinking further about the issue and focused on other duties. "What of the Holy Land's trade fleet?"

"Almost a thousand ships have been inducted. Adding a thousand more to reach your target will take time since we have to make them from scratch. But we can start the operations already. We've selected Hydra Bay at Beastaria as the base on the other side. It's Beastkins' area, and they're mostly believers of Solis now, so investing there is good for us," Gabriel detailed everything, it being a usual morning briefing to the Pope.

Sylvester checked all the papers and wrote a few things down. "Good. We need to focus on making the two continents dependent on each other with trade. What's the situation with the steel ships I proposed?"

"The dwarves are working on it. It's not that easy, Sylvester. We have to expand everything for such unprecedented demand for steel. From mining to processing, it's a massive undertaking. There is also your railway proposal—so much to do," Gabriel frustratingly answered, but he never complained about his job. "But at least the unemployment numbers have decreased to the lowest ever."

Sylvester liked hearing such news. It helps cleanse the spoiled mood after the recent madness he witnessed in the north. "That's brilliant. It means people are getting wealthy; Tax revenue is increasing. Ensure corruption doesn't take root and all the money is invested in infrastructure. Upgrading cities, towns, and villages, making Economic Corridors like the one in Riveria, better homes, and sewers. Make sure progress is planned and clean, and avoid the creation of slums as much as possible."

Knock! Knock!

"Your Holiness," Anya Moller peeked in. "The dragons have arrived. The Lord Inquisitor is also with them."

"Can they fit through the door?" Sylvester asked.

Anya, his assistant, looked back momentarily and then peeked in again. "I think… they will. They might have to crouch a little."

"Ah, I need a bigger office," Sylvester muttered, gesturing with his hand. "Let them in."

In no time, six dragons came in through the door. They were mutated and had humanoid forms, but they were still too tall and broad with their wings. As expected, they had to crouch and turn a little to fit in through the door.

'The scent of fear. I like it,' Sylvester noticed the nervousness in their being. They were rightfully afraid, as Sylvester had the monopoly of power. Heck, even if they were to somehow cultivate a Supreme Wizard now, it'd be pointless.

"Welcome to the Holy Land. I apologize for the small door. My predecessors never thought dragons would ever visit us here. Some renovations are in order, I believe." Sylvester tried to act like the good guy, while the dragons knew he was the devil.

A pale-blue scaled dragon with two curved horns on his head came forward first, "I am King Egomorius, Pope Sylvester. I am the last remaining dragon king of Greenpeaks. It is my honor to be in your esteemed presence. We pay respects in the highest regard to you."

'Too much fear,' Sylvester noticed and knew this wasn't the right way to deal with dragons. Too much fear meant too much hatred, making it hard for the dragons to swallow their pride.

"Likewise," Sylvester stood up. "There aren't big enough chairs to have you in this room, so let's speak while standing. What can I do for you folks?"

For a fact, everyone knew what the dragons wanted. But Sylvester simply wanted to hear it from their mouths.

"Pope Sylvester, we believe that the hostilities between the dragons and the Holy Land still haven't ceased. So, I wish to form a peace pact between our two distinguished communities officially. So we can usher in a new age of prosperity," King Egomorius humbly replied.

'He sounds like me,' Sylvester couldn't help but notice that. 'From what I remember, Rathagun is also antagonizing them. No wonder the dragons are scared.'

"Of course, who doesn't like peace? The Holy Land would be delighted to form friendly relations with Greenpeaks. But, I'm unsure if Greenpeaks will agree to my terms."

"We will agree!" King Egomorius couldn't be more desperate. "We know what the elves agreed upon and are willing to do the same. We will open the economy of Greenpeaks to the rest of the world."

Sylvester shrugged, making himself appear disappointed. "But… that's not what I had in mind. As far as my knowledge goes, the dragons of Greenpeaks don't really produce anything. You mainly import things with the gold that you hoard or make the slaves mine for you. But, since I abolished slavery, you can't do that anymore."

"That…" Egomorius' face contorted. After all, the dragons hadn't agreed to abolish slavery yet. They still kept many dwarves as their slaves to mine gold. "How will we survive then, Pope Sylvester?"

"By doing honest work as the rest of the world. Either mine gold yourself or start working at various other jobs. I think I read somewhere that dragon fire and dwarven smithing can create the finest products out there. Here in Sol, we're having an unprecedented demand for steel, and I think the large smithies will be delighted to hire dragons," Sylvester proposed.

Instantly, Gabriel's eyes widened, and he stared at Sylvester with a knowing look. 'Ah, that's what you were planning.'

It all made sense now. Why the dragons were kept there for so long. It was a pressure tactic to make them even more desperate and accept whatever Sylvester was going to throw at them. They wouldn't have accepted being used as furnaces if peace had come too quickly.

"You'll be working as protected workers and get paid," Sylvester added and gave them time to think about it. "The Divine Dragons have already accepted the deal. They will be working at the Steelworth Viscounty and also living there in the mountains to maintain their peaceful lifestyle."

Egomorius gritted his teeth and looked at the elders he had brought. Every single one of them was nodding like their necks were machines. "We… We accept the proposal by the esteemed Pope Sylvester."

'Got you!'

Sylvester smiled and went forward to shake hands with the dragon. "That is wonderful, King Egomorius. I will include Greenpeaks as a destination in my new continental trade fleet. Saint Wazir, please make an addition for five hundred more ships to the trade fleet."

Gabriel looked at Sylvester in confusion since they already lacked a thousand ships. But he nodded and went with the flow. "It shall be done, Your Holiness."

"Lord Inquisitor, add more soldiers to the trade outpost we're making in Hydra Bay. It shall accommodate the dragons as well," Sylvester added proudly, putting more pressure on them.

The tall Lord Inquisitor, with a burning gaze, saluted. "I shall choose a thousand men for this glorious task. But before they leave, for your blessing, they might ask."

"They shall have it," Sylvester responded, taking a parchment from his desk drawer. "Let us sign this agreement and officially declare the peace between us, King Egomorius."

Egomorius stared at the parchment and began to sweat. He could read human language, and the wordings and terms on the agreement were just as what Sylvester had told him. This meant he got played right into the hands of the Pope, as the agreement was already written.

'How did this come to happen? How did I fall for his tricks so easily?' He wondered and felt overwhelmed by his opponent's wits. Now, if he were to renege on the deal, he'd be the problem, not the Pope.

With his draconic head held low and shoulders plummeting in defeat, he signed the parchment with his thumb. As witnesses, the six elders, Gabriel and Lord Inquisitors, also signed, and of course, Sylvester as the unofficial conqueror.

And just like that, Greenpeaks, the region considered unconquerable, accepted its defeat and Sylvester as the overlord.

Clap clap!

Gabriel shamelessly started clapping and cheering or perhaps gaslighting. "Wonderful. The entire Sol shall know of this great event by tomorrow. The dragons of Greenpeaks are now our people."

"..."

There were no cheers. The dragons didn't have smiling faces. So they just stared at Gabriel the whole time.

"Ah, I have something important coming soon," Sylvester excused himself from the awkwardness. "I shall get to it then."

"We will also swiftly return to Greenpeaks," King Egomorius notified. "It's been a while… since we came here."

'I know,' Sylvester thought.

With that, Lord Inquisitor guided the dragons out. The cramped room finally began to feel spacious once more.

Gabriel smirked and extended his hand towards Sylvester, "Well played, my friend."

Sylvester shook it, "You're not too bad either."

"You're one scheming bastard," Gabriel complimented with a big smile on his face.

Sylvester almost choked on his saliva. "In this game, you're either the scheming bastard, or the losing fool. But I want to ask you something before you leave today… You must answer me truthfully."

Gabriel's brows furrowed as he felt Sylvester's grip on his hand tighten. Though, he didn't notice any hostility. "W-What is it?"

Sylvester kept staring at his best friend's face, carefully assessing every emotion and twitch of the facial muscle.

"Gab, by any chance… Do you like men?"

"..."

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