I Became The Pope, Now What?-Novel

John Hayward was the leader of the Sneaky Stormers. It was a bounty hunting group that he made on his own; over the years, he grew it full of thirty members. Initially, he didn't want to exceed five, but as he realized that nobody wished to join him due to his low talents, he saw an opportunity in numbers.

After all, one ant may not be able to lift the prey, but a hundred ants can surely do it. So, he looked for people with the same struggles as him who wanted to be bounty hunters but were lower ranked than a Master Wizard or Silver Knight.

He may not have a remarkable appearance, standing just five foot five and with a bald head and a beardless face, but his voice still helped him, which made him appear wise and confident. Perhaps the reason why all the members follow his lead.

As of now, John needed a new hunt. He needed money to keep the group together, or else the Sneaky Stormers would be forced to disband, as they would not even be able to pay the Assassin Guild the fees. That would mean they can never take another job and earn money.

So, this time, they decided to hit big because his informants revealed to him that the priest with a bounty of a hundred thousand gold was riding along on the desert roads, headed to the Governor's Keep in the north.

He was told that the party the priest traveled with seemed to be injured and battered, creating a perfect opportunity for his group to hide and storm the enemy.

"Shh... Don't move, and keep your eyes on the road. The moment their wheels get stuck, we shall storm." Ordered John to his men as he and the other thirty Stormers hid behind large rocks on the sides of the road.

However, a subordinate of John didn't have his heart in the job. "Boss, didn't we decide never to mess with the church back then? Then why are we doing it now?"

John licked his dried lips greedily and replied. "Remi, a hundred thousand gold will keep us funded for months, and completing a job of such a level will get us enough reputation that we won't ever have to worry about jobs. And with better money, we shall hire stronger members--wizards and knights of Arch Wizard and Golden Knight ranks. Just imagine."

Paa!

"Attack!" John screamed at the top of his lungs as soon as the loud horn resounded.

They were calm and cheering since this was the Desert Road, and rarely would there be any travelers. So they had all the time needed.

John only saw the stopped broken carriage being pulled by a single white horse. At the reins, he noticed a man with blonde hair and golden eyes sitting calmly, but also appeared to be hurt and weak.

"Sylvester Maximilian! Come with us, and none of your partners needs to get hurt by this. We only want you." He shouted confidently while the rest of his men stood beside him, arms folded and weapons brandished.

'Haha, we have you greatly outnumbered! Even a Master Wizard can fall to a dozen Adept Wizards. Come now... bring me your golden head.' John was gloating in his mind the whole time. His confidence was even bolstered as he noticed the remaining men in the carriage also seemed out of shape.

'What's he doing now?' John was confused as he saw the blonde man coldly looking at him and showing him the palm and emitting light magic before erupting in a hymn that made a godly halo.

♫We have met. It is all God's plan.

Your fate was sealed as your life began.

Bask in my light as this may bring you peace.

Don't look up, or your breath may cease.♫

"Fuck!" John looked up instantly and cursed. Out of nowhere, there hovered hundreds of long, golden spears made of some sort of light.

♫I pray--May the holy light enlighten your path.

I bless you not to be saved from the lord's wrath.♫

Woosh!

Bam!

Bam!

To John's horror, he saw the spears falling down like rain. And they were not just made of lights; they were as solid as steel.

"No! Mercy!"

Frightened, he jumped away as he was at the front, but his thirty men were not as lucky. As spears, after spears fell, his men--the Stormers--all of them got pierced through their eyes, mouths, and necks and got planted into the sandy road like scarecrows.

On the desert road, today appeared a sea of blood.

Some who didn't die instantly choked on their own blood slowly, in pain, stuck with the spear impaling them.

John's eyes bulged out, for he never expected or knew that there existed such magic. The reports only revealed that the man is a light wizard--a useless element in real-world fights.

Soon, by the time the rain of spears stopped, all his men seemed like meat stuck on skewers. Decades of work he had put in was gone in seconds--just like that. That made his mind go blank, and he fell. His eyes went hazy--the first sign of a mental breakdown.

"W-What... happened? Where am I?" He muttered continuously.

"Rise, heathen! Receive the blessing of the lord."

John looked up and saw all the spears had vanished, and now the carriage had moved forward, reaching his side. He noticed the man with golden hair and his halo of light. It filled his heart with warmth and love for Solis. So he stood up as commanded. "Oh, lord of light, I made a folly; please spare my life."

Slash!

"Ghk! Agh! W-Why?"

The last thing John saw was a dagger stabbed into his throat by the blonde man, who appeared as calm as a mountain lake and as cold as ice. There was no mercy or pity, only anger for his heresy.

As he fell back, he slowly lost consciousness. The last sound he heard was of the carriage slowly riding over the bodies of his men.

Crunch!

Crunch!

The sound of bones breaking apart haunted him in his last breath.

Woosh!

The last thing he felt was fire--burning him. But, he felt no pain, for he was already near death.

The last thought in his mind was cursing the guild. 'T-They lied... the quest is not C-grade... this is... S grade... fuck!'

...

<strong>[Memoirs of Sir Dolorem]</strong>

[The whole way, he did not utter a word, and when he did, it rhymed, and men got killed for their crime. So coldly and so effortlessly--it's frightening.

Something has changed in him, and I don't know what. I can understand, however, that the experience we had in Sphinx Town was something that could easily shake one's belief. But sadly, that's the reality of the world we live in... What happened in Sphinx town has occurred before and will continue to do so.

Shane's death has... left all of us enraged. I can understand Sylvester's rage, for the first apprentice of any wizard is like his own child. He teaches him, nurtures him to grow--but to see that son die like that... It hurts.

I look into his eyes now, and they appear furious, but the hint of intelligence has not left him. I wish to give him a hug and give him a shoulder to cry on--but I reckon Sylvester is not one of those men who show emotions to others--especially their most vulnerable ones.

He has to do something... he has to let out the frustration. Otherwise, it will hollow him out slowly and... I don't want to imagine the outcome. O' Lord Solis, if you are there, please guide this young mind... for I have failed as his mentor, guardian, and... self-proclaimed father.

He has great potential in him--just waiting to be unlocked. So, if you have any grace left, even for me, please pass it on to Sylvester. I beg you... he needs it more than I.

May your light enlighten our paths and minds.]

Sir Dolorem stopped writing in his journal and looked ahead. They were close to the Fallshoot village, Markus' home. He had knowingly given the reins to Sylvester, wishing to distract him from having angry thoughts and instead focus on the road.

"We shall get some medicine from Archpriest Norin Raad for Priest Felix and then move out." Sir Dolorem suggested.

Sylvester nodded blankly and added. "I need to check the agriculture methods I suggested. The first winter rain has poured upon here. They don't have too much time before the cold hits them."

Sir Dolorem internally sighed. He appreciated that Sylvester was back in work mode, but he could feel that things were different now. His voice, his mannerism, it all had become colder--clouded even.

'What internal battles are you fighting, young bard?' He wondered and kept his thoughts to himself. He could only hope that at least his friends or his mother would later talk with him about it.

...

Sylvester was just in a bad mood. Anyone would be after what happened. It was not just the death of Shane that angered him, but also the fact that the entire town was murdered, including those refugees, nearly six thousand people.

For what? Because they harbored a dangerous man more than a decade ago? A man who was disguised? It was the straw that broke the camel's back and ended even the tiniest bit of respect he had left for the church. But his anger was diverted to himself as well.

At how weak he was. How easily a bunch of psychos stepped on him. 'I need to rethink my whole strategy. There can never be peace in my life... unless I hold the biggest knife.'

"What happened? Where is everyone?"

Sylvester's thoughts receded when he heard Sir Dolorem's curious interjection. He also looked around and noticed the entire town was empty, at least the streets. But leftover items on the side of the road suggested people were still there.

"Let's go to the Monastery." Sylvester decided and moved faster.

But, before they even reached the Monastery, they found a house surrounded by all the villagers. They all looked healthy now, but their faces showed tension. And the combined stench he smelled was that of anxiety.

"What goes on here?" Sir Dolorem shouted at the crowd.

When people looked, they nearly knelt towards Sylvester. Only when Archpriest Norin came to the front, he explained after greeting. "Ah, Priest Sylvester, you must be headed back. I reckon your mission was successful?"

Sylvester held himself back from cursing. "Indeed--the mountains have been cleared of their toxicity. So, what's happening here?"

Archpriest Norin appeared saddened deeply. "A robbery occurred last night. David had just started dealing in handicrafts at the Governor's Keep and made a fortune. But now his body lies inside, dead, bloodied. Where could such heathens appear in our little village?"

Sylvester looked at the crowd and shook his head. 'One of them is the culprit... I can guarantee it.'

Considering this little matter was a great mind diverter, he got off the carriage and moved towards the little house. The people parted ways and let him enter quickly. Then, without searching around, he looked directly at the body.

He noticed a blunt injury on the back of the head of the man, and some jewelry boxes and gold jewelry lying around the room, with one wooden cupboard open wide.

He shook his head and looked at the people outside the house. "This was not a robbery but a pre-planned murder!"

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