I Became The Pope, Now What?-Novel

Sylvester checked Miraj to the best of his abilities. He knew the anatomy of a cat thanks to having one cute furry friend in his past life. But the strange bones on Miraj's back didn't make any sense.

'Are this world's cats supposed to be different? No, Chonky is no ordinary cat. That was clear from the first day. Even if he was experimented on, how can he grow so intelligent? It's impossible unless he's born smart.' Sylvester reasoned.

But, unable to find a problem, he decided to let Xavia touch Miraj later and see if she could sense anything or heal him. For now, he used a simple trick.

"Chonky, I am going to apply some ice on your back. It will give you relief for the night." He warned so Miraj wouldn't jump up in surprise.

"Meow! Do anything."

Miraj instantly melted into Sylvester's arms and slid onto the mattress like a dead body. "I take a nap now."

"Wait, let me draw a tiny rune circle on the floor. If you feel itchy again, you can rest on it to ease the itch. I will ask mum to check on you later."

Miraj didn't reply, though. He soundly snored and fell asleep, perhaps tired from all the intense scratching he did all day in silence, trying not to disturb Sylvester.

'I can ask Healer Hendrix for help too. He did experiments on a lot of cats and gave blind one's new eyes. So he should know what can cause such strange bone structures… But, could it be that, like me, Miraj is ranking up t… Ah, let's not theorise too much.'

Sylvester also slept after that. Of course, he didn't need to, but he decided to rest as much as possible, as the times were peaceful, and he didn't have too much to worry about. After all, he had no idea what assignment the Pope had prepared for him this time.

…

In the following days, the crowd started to thin down as the rich bards who didn't want to join Sylvester's proposal left with their followers. That left behind only the lower and middle-tier bards, who depended solely on donations by random people from towns and villages. The only rich one left was Elvis.

Sylvester spent time with all of them. He taught them musical instruments and held some freestyle songs and hymn competitions. Over time, they all became used to one another, and familiarity grew. Sylvester remembered all their names, which was nothing less than a reward for all the Bards.

Before they knew it, the week ended, and on the last day was an open competition for all the bards. The people from nearby towns, villages or travellers could come and witness the various bards.

Sylvester didn't participate as he'd be the default winner thanks to his halo and majesty, so he kept himself as a guest performer.

It was a great night, and everyone enjoyed themselves. The feast was much grander on the last day to make the memory unforgettable. The bards were all happy and excited to participate in Sylvester's plan.

When the morning came, all the Bards bid Sylvester farewell personally with a church salute. Then, slowly, the entire area became empty again, and all the tents and preparations were removed, returning the site to its natural condition.

With that, Sylvester breathed a sigh of relief and headed to the Bard's, as he had some things to sort out. The two new slaves he had freed and brought, the nobleman, and the woman enslaved since childhood, had taken their training and were helping in the business.

"Good morning, all of you. I see, the special menu has an ice cream sandwich today?" Sylvester entered after taking a look at the menu for the day.

"Lord Bard, good morning. May the holy light enlighten us." The young girl, Ava, chirped from the kitchen counter as she prepared for the day.

The work at the Bard's had become much more streamlined over the past year. Sylvester tried to make as many production-line-styled cooking counters as possible, where much of the work could be done in advance. In a way, he tried to make fast food, just a lot healthier and more complex.

"My lord." Gemma, the mother of a five-year-old, came out of the kitchen and bowed her head in respect. "My lord, my one year of work has been completed here. I wish to find a home and live with my son peacefully."

'Here it comes.' Sylvester was already expecting this much.

"Have you planned anything? Where will you be going? How will you make a living? How will you educate your son?" He inquired.

Gemma stared into Slvester's eyes firmly. "I have, my lord. I have saved all the money I earned over the past year. I have decided to buy a small plot in Happy village, near Trident Lake, not far from here. I will work in the Green City just across the river as a cook in a small inn."

While talking, Sylvester sighed and walked to the kitchen counter to make a strawberry milkshake. "You certainly have everything figured. What about you, Darius? Do you also wish to leave after some time?"

The noble, freed slave with the ability to remember everything appeared resolute. "I am not a worker under you, Lord Bard. I am your follower. You've become an Archbishop now, and I believe you can keep my father's killers away from me."

"What about the rest of you? Do you wish to leave?" Sylvester shared a glance with all the others.

Woosh!

Fifteen-year-old Ava jumped to hug Sylvester. "I am never leaving. You said I'm like a little sister, so how can I go? I… I don't have any family either."

Flora, the blonde-haired wife of a deceased crusader, spoke up then. "My village was raided and destroyed. I have nowhere to go where I can guarantee my and my child's safety. So I will stay here until you wish to send me away, my lord."

Sylvester glanced at the last woman, Emma. She was abducted in childhood and still hoped to find her family. "What about you?"

Emma grabbed Darius' arm, as he was the one who brought her along. "I will stay."

Clap!

"Good! Then let's move on to phase two of conquering the world of food!" Sylvester jumped to his feet, erasing the air of melancholy. "Gemma, you wish to leave? Fine, but you will still be working for me, and I will still be providing you with security. Now listen to my plan."

Sylvester took out a blank parchment and started writing on it with his ballpoint pen. "Thanks to massive orders from the Holy Land, the monthly income of Bard's is two hundred thousand Gold Graces, and if we reduce the one hundred and twelve thousand expenses for materials and wages, this place earns a staggering profit of eighty-eight thousand Gold Graces. Everyone, this money is more than what some Barons make.

"Our business is clearly loved by all, and the food is unique. The prices are neither low nor high, and we tend to create regular customers. So I have decided to branch out and make more Bard's around Sol. The first one shall be in Green City, Gracia's capital.

"The shop will open in the prime merchant district and look exactly like the building we are in. Gemma, you know all the methods and the process of work here. You shall become the new branch manager and oversee the training and operations. New talents will be hired from Green City itself to work on a long-term contract basis. Flora, you too can venture out and become a manager of one of the branches when you are comfortable. It will likely be established in River City, the capital of Riveria."

Jaws went agape; that was the first reaction. But when they realised the total extent of the profits, they felt excited.

Sylvester continued. "For the good work, Flora, Gemma and Ava, you three get a bonus of one hundred Gold Graces each."

"What?! B-But… Is that fine? That's so much money!" Flora exclaimed in stutters. The money was massive for someone of her standing.

A loaf of bread costs three copper muds. A thousand copper muds made one silver crown, and a hundred silver crowns made one gold grace. So she was getting one hundred gold graces, which was enough to buy a house and farm in a village.

"This is what you deserve. My instructions were harsh, and the work was new. Yet you all did amazing—so no more discussion regarding this. Darius, you are a man who remembers everything. Therefore, I am appointing you as the Financial overseer of the Bard's. If you do a good job, I will perhaps let you manage all my business ventures."

Darius heard that for the first time. "Business ventures? W-What else do you do, my lord?"

"I am an inventor, Darius. I create things and allow nobles close to me to mass produce my inventions, earning a part of the profit. I am also entering book publishing, so a lot of money will come in every month. I expect it to be somewhere near, if not above, a million gold." Sylvester dropped the heaviest revelation.

Sylvester knowingly did it so his workers understood that Sylvester was not only a strong clergyman with power but also a wealthy man who could influence everything around him, even if it wasn't related to the clergy. He expected the revelation to raise confidence and loyalty in them.

Darius was ecstatic and knelt down like a knight, albeit sloppily. "I swear in the name of Solis, to be honest and serve the Bard's well. You can trust me, my lord."

Sylvester nodded and got up to return. He had to visit the Pope first. "Be at ease, and get back to work. I will send better details later, so don't slack off. One more thing, call me Your Grace in public from now on. That's what an Archbishop is called… 'Lord' might create some misunderstanding."

"Yes, my lord! I mean Grace!" Darius rushed to hold the door of the shop.

Sylvester fixed his robes and headed out. He placed Miraj on the horse's head, as the goofy cat had stolen some bananas from the shop earlier and was currently in the middle of devouring them.

"Ha!"

In no time, he galloped into the Holy Land and reached the Pope's palace. One thing he noticed was how respectable everyone was, and everyone saluted him with complete worship. Even the Bishops saluted him, some begrudgingly.

"Good morning, Gunther. Is his holiness inside?" Sylvester greeted the Pope's assistant and handed the man a strawberry milkshake he had made earlier. "For you, my hard-working friend."

Gunther noticed the stamped mark of Bard's on the pottery glass. "Thank you, I needed this after the morning meeting. The lower clergymen made a blunder this time and misplaced some gold. His holiness was furious about it. Ah, you can go in, he's alone… Try to calm him down, please, that would be a great help."

Sylvester did so after knocking. "May the holy light enlighten us."

The Pope was busy with some papers and waved at him to sit. "Pick the file with your name on it and give it a read while I finish analysing this financial report of those dunderheads."

'I'd kill to get a look at that report.' Sylvester thought, having always been curious about Holy Land's finances.

Sylvester obeyed and picked the thin file. He opened it and saw the title, 'Assignment for Archbishop Sylvester Maximilian'.

But when he looked down at the next heading, he glanced back at the Pope.

"You're making me a Special Judge?"

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