"Saint Medico is here — He believes the Archbishop won't survive this week."
Sylvester's shoulder fell, for he had come to like the old man. Archbishop Nelson was an honest man who had worked too hard for too long, and that was the reason for his undoing. His weak body was caused by his selfless service and desire to bring peace to the people.
"You said Saint Medico is here? For the plague, correct? Did he bring any helpers?" Sylvester inquired.
Sir Dolorem's expressions didn't get better, however. His eyes were covered, but the rest of the face was enough for Sylvester to discern something was wrong.
"He did… He brought two Void Keepers. He brought Spine and EX10 with him. Yes, you guessed it right, both of them were present in the Sphinx village. They are one of those who killed little Shane.
"Furthermore, EX10 is Bishop Lazark's elder brother. He's not too happy about EX10 being here with us." Sir Dolorem explained everything.
Sylvester sighed and decided to first meet the Archbishop. "Let's go inside. I wish to meet and give the Archbishop news that may revitalise him."
Sylvester moved into the monastery and headed to the sick bay. It was not crowded at all, and only some Bright Mothers were working there. There was also Mother Thena tending to the Archbishop.
"How are you, your grace?" Sylvester sat beside the Archbishop's bed.
The old man looked withered now, and his face had lost its colour. The cheerful side of his personality seemed lost, and even his smile appeared dead. He was so weak that he couldn't even speak.
The old man looked at Sylvester and raised his palm slowly. "Y-You h…have returned."
Sylvester held his hands. "I did it, your grace. The fifteen counts are dead. I received the word from the Holy Land as well. They have become serious about the Sorrow Kingdom and the plague. They sent Saint Medico here, and the Sorrow Kingdom will soon be under Holy Land's administration. I have also secured enough funds to feed the people for six months."
"D-Do not lie… Solis will p-punish."
Sylvester could understand why the man would not believe him. "Your Grace, I do not lie. Here, I have the letter with me. Look at this. It's the seal of the Pope. And you were unconscious, so you didn't see Saint Medico."
The Archbishop tried to get up from the bed, this time with a newfound strength. Feeling his dream so close that he could grasp it, he wanted to see it become a reality.
Sylvester helped the old man. "Be at ease, your grace. Your body is still too weak. The poison those heretics gave you tried to attack your nervous system. Thankfully, we had the cure here, but it still damaged your body."
The Archbishop still stood upright on his feet. "Don't waste time with such words, priest Johnathan. Please do not waste our time with such plebeian chatter. Our purpose is far too urgent for such trifles. The Holy Land is in dire need of our assistance, and as fate would have it, I am best suited for the task at hand. I possess an intimate knowledge of every inch of this cursed ground, and my web of contacts extends far and wide. Moreover, it was only those Nobles that I oversaw, for we stood on the same side while they plotted against me.
"But enough of that, come now, let us make haste and meet with Saint Medico. The fate of the Holy Land hangs in the balance, and it is up to us to ensure that the scales tip in our favour."
Sylvester's disguise was still up, so he silently followed the old man. Though he knew he'd soon be revealing his real identity as the main game was about to begin. Sorrow Kingdom, Highland Kingdom and all the way to Riveria, a fire was soon going to spread. A fire that shall burn many, but in the end, the one true puppet master would benefit the most. The hard work of years was soon going to show results finally.
Soon, Sylvester and the Archbishop arrived in the temporary office of Saint Medico. It was the biggest room in the monastery, and it was already filled with ceiling-high stacks of papers. Saint Medico was hard at work, writing something with both of his hands somehow. He'd dip the quill every few seconds and continue to write.
"Cardinal Charles." Archbishop Nelson weakly called.
Immediately, Saint Medico stood up and rushed to get the Archbishop to a seat. "Why did you get up, Nelson? You won't live even a day if you push yourself."
"Hah!" The old man laughed. "I've been prepared for death for years, Cardinal. I am now merely hopeful of seeing the Sorrow Kingdom free and flourishing before I take my last breath."
Saint Sceptre, Cardinal Charles Nos Leeds, knew that the old Archbishop would not give up. The man had spent his entire life working for the people of the Sorrow Kingdom, and the least he could do was show the man what he desired the most.
"Understood. Let's get to work then. I will start with the terrible news first. The plague is manufactured by someone, and it has already crossed over into the Highland Kingdom. We received the news of the first death there. I have alerted all monasteries in the Sol, so we shall receive updates regularly. The good thing is that making a cure is possible, even though it will take much time to develop."
Sylvester frowned, as the time was something they didn't have. "Saint, I wrote in my letter that The Patch might be behind this."
Of course, Saint Medico knew Sylvester was in disguise, so he respected his opinion. "I read that, but sadly, the matter is too political. We cannot simply accuse a quasi-Kingdom. We need proof, something we don't have. But, I still desire to meet with the Grand Wizard of The Patch, Vinland Markinson."
"He won't." Archbishop Nelson spoke. "He's a vile sadistic man. He'd rather watch the world burn than do something to quench the fire. His men are the people responsible for the misery in the Kingdom — Widowmakers, they call themselves. The Patch will ask for something in return for helping us, and we all know what they want."
Saint Medico sighed and nodded. "Of course, the Grand Duke of The Patch wishes to be crowned as the King of Sorrow."
Sylvester had the plan to tackle that, but he didn't want to reveal it to anyone yet as the walls had ears. So he stayed silent the entire duration of their conversation, which lasted a few hours. Ultimately, they decided to at least try and meet with Grand Wizard Vinland.
Sylvester's work was done, however. What he needed now was some time, and a few letters delivered.
He walked the long corridor of the monastery to go to his personal room, a very small one in size as his rank was 'low'.
"There he is!"
All of a sudden, Sylvester heard a feminine, cheerful voice. He turned around and saw a woman. The mere sight of her made him frown as a few veins popped up on his forehead. His fist clenched in itself, and his raging aura radiated as a flash of light on his fist.
"Hehe, he's angry. Come on, that was so long ago. We're friends now, aren't we?" She said. She was a slender woman, bright red-haired with two ponytails, wearing a pink noble gown too big for her size. She had red eyes and a cheerful personality, but all knew about her sadistic habits.
Sylvester scoffed. "Spine, the filthy one of the five Void Keepers responsible for Little Shane's death. I had taken him as my student, but you killed him. I only believe in an eye for an eye, and I shall have much more than a mere eye from you."
"Oh! I'm so scared… Save me, this beautiful princess. Ah, wait, I can probably help you! Here, let me show you your dear student."
Woosh!
Spine was her codename, and her mastery was in illusion magic. So she created a scene around herself and Sylvester.
Sylvester's shoulder fell, for the scene Spine showed him was the moment he decided to actively work to become the Pope. Right before him, he saw yet again the crouched form of Shane's mother as she held Shane in her arms while the building around her burned. Her skin melted into Shane's as they both burned away in agony. The cries of pain, the mindless screams and the fading sobs… they rang in Sylvester's ears.
His fist tightened hard enough that his nails dug into his skin, making him bleed. His eyes rested on the melted blob of flesh that was Shane's mother, and the faint form of the little boy in the woman's arms.
Not wanting to see it more, Sylvester closed his eyes abruptly and started walking forward. Soon, he passed by the illusion of Shane and reached Spine.
Bam!
"Argh! Don't you dar—"
She tried to curse, but Sylvester clutched her neck tightly. She was a thin short woman, so he easily lifted her off in the air. She tried to kick her feet, but Sylvester only tightened his grip.
"You think you have the power over me?" Sylvester's eyes abruptly opened and shined in a dangerous red glow. "You think I don't know your little pesty games? I am an Archbishop of the Holy Land, the Cardinal Suprima here, and the Judge. Should I hereby declare you a heathen? I'd love to hear your screams. I wonder if you'd melt the same way as them."
"L-Let me go!"
Pa!
Sylvester used his other hand and slapped her hard on her face. Her right cheek instantly swole up in red, and she stopped fighting him.
"You little pest, by showing me that illusion, you revealed that you were there when he died — All of you actively killed that poor child. It was not an accident. It was an ungodly, shameful massacre."
"Ugk… I… I can't… Br—"
"I wonder how many said those same words to you, and you showed no mercy."
Thud!
Sylvester finally let her go by throwing her on the ground hard. He looked down at her, staring into her eyes with an inferno in his own eyes.
?No longer your sins shall go unpunished.
It's the name of faith, you have diminished.?
Against the norms, as his eyes stayed wide open while shining red, a similar red halo appeared behind his head. But, not warm; it was colder than the ice. It was the messenger of their sin's price.
Then abruptly, Sylvester turned around and proceeded to leave, but the halo remained.
?In the name of Solis, I am the judge.
Your sins, I shall openly divulge.
Count your days and your breaths.
For none shall come to mourn your deaths.?
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This 𝓬ontent is taken from f(r)eeweb(n)ovel.𝒄𝒐𝙢