Silence loomed inside the dark dungeon. Sylvester didn't speak any further, nor did Azor have the will to say anything in his defense. The truth was that out there was a demon as strong as a Grand Wizard, at least, doing gods knew what.
Considering how anxious they all appear when it comes to invading the human world, Sylvester liked to believe that the demon was somehow working to bring more of his kind back.
"You might have very well caused the doom of our world," Sylvester stepped back. "I am not high enough to judge a sinner like you. The Holy Father must hear what you have spoken. Only then you may be judged."
Sylvester left the dungeon and locked the door with magical curses and runes placed all over it. He then found Count Bradley. "Make sure nobody enters this dungeon without my permission, not even Bishop Lazark. I need this man alive until he reaches the Holy Land for judgment"
"Understood, your grace." Bradley saluted and headed to find someone competent to stand guard.
Sylvester, meanwhile, went on to speak with Saint Medico, the official highest-ranking clergyman in the entire Kingdom at the time. Although the man was no martial wizard or battle commander, he deserved to know about the demon as it concerned mankind.
So Sylvester revealed everything to the man. "I cannot return to the Holy Land yet as my work is not done. His Holiness had tasked me with one more thing before I returned. But Azor must be brought to the Holy Land so all the concerned high clergymen and the Pope listen about this directly."
Saint Medico was not pleased with the information either. "In this case, I must hurry. The Holy Land will likely send someone else to watch over the immunization of the Sorrow Kingdom after I'm gone. So I will bring Azor with me."
"That will be very helpful, Saint. Please bring that little girl Amy along with you. She has magic in her, but I do not know about her talent yet."
Amy was the girl that Sylvester saved from the vile Baron a while back. She had grown very attached to Sylvester, and her mind was also, to some degree, healed.
"A new talent for the Holy Land? I will gladly bring her along, Lord Bard."
With that done, Sylvester headed to find Sir Dolorem to finally start the second stretch of his assignment. The time had come to focus on increasing his fighting prowess as the foes kept on increasing in number and strength.
Sylvester found Sir Dolorem near the building site for the new castle, speaking with Grand Wizard Einarr, who was now the official overseer of the Kingdom as he was the only highest-ranking nobleman left.
"You arrived at the right time, your grace." Sir Dolorem turned to Sylvester. "Lord Einarr worries about the old nobles who escaped coming back and demanding their previous lands and positions."
Sylvester scoffed and stood with them, watching over the construction. "The answer to your worry is simple, Lord Einarr. They are no longer nobles but deserters who stole the money of the Sorrow Kingdom. As soon as they return, you put them to the sword."
"But, how will I run the kingdom without them?" Einarr asked. "I'm but a single man."
Sylvester rubbed his chin and thought about a way for him. The kingdom was in ruins, so he reckoned it was also time to revamp the administration.
"The solution is simple, Lord Einarr. You will work as the head of the Kingdom and employ hundreds of administrators. You must conduct a kingdom-wide examination and find out all the educated and intelligent members of the society.
"Then, you teach them how to administer a region, implement policies you make, and collect taxes. After that, you shall send them to their defined territory, where they must rule as public servants, not lords and ladies. They all report to you, and you will give them their monthly salary. If they acquire any money illegally by stealing from taxes or extortion, they will be put to the sword for corruption.
"Every three years, you may also transfer each individual from their work area. This way, if you keep interchanging them across the Kingdom, no single person will be able to accumulate too much wealth or power to pose a threat. Remember, the Grand Duke of The Patch was able to divide the Kingdom because he got too strong."
Sylvester pitched Einarr something akin to a modern administration system. The only difference was that death was the default punishment for misuse of power and corruption.
Einarr seemed enlightened and excited. "If this works, then the coffers of the royal palace will fill up and go beyond much faster. But I am no politician or statesman. I know not how to plan such complex mechanisms."
Sylvester patted Einarr's back. "It is easier said than done, but it's worth trying. I will help you for as long as I live. You can appoint me as an advisor if you wish to. But remember, if the Royal Castle earns more tax, that does not mean all that money is yours.
"Since you will be replacing the nobles, it will also be your job to provide public welfare. For example, running orphanages and constructing bridges and roads. All these departments will be working under you, and your job is to review their work and ensure no corruption occurs."
Einarr bobbed his head, having changed from being silent to somewhat cheerful. Having met his daughter after so many years had changed the man's heart.
"Then, will you be staying here for a long time? I can arrange a better place for your living." Einarr offered.
Sylvester had other plans, however. "Thank you for the offer, but I must head to the Highland Kingdom now. One matter is to meet with King Highland and ask him to open the dams. The other matter is… I must meet with Viscount Gordan Mineworth and learn metal manipulation from him."
Sir Dolorem smiled faintly. "Finally, the time has come."
"Viscount Gordan?" Einarr mumbled. "I heard about him while in Grand Duke's court. His Viscounty was delaying the deliveries of the important iron ore that we required. Later we were informed that the Viscount had fallen gravely ill, and his sons were too incompetent to handle the work."
Sylvester's shoulder fell, and he rubbed his tired face. "Of course; how can things go smoothly with me? But it's alright. As long as he is alive and not terminally ill, we can heal him."
"But how will I rebuild the kingdom without you, your grace?" Einarr asked. "I know none other to ask for help."
"Worry not, Lord Einarr. I will merely be a border across the Sorrow Kingdom. You can visit me at any time in the Mineworth Viscounty. I will also be inviting a few talented clergymen from the Holy Land who will help you with construction. The people of the Sorrow Kingdom shall not starve anymore; that's guaranteed." Sylvester guaranteed and wished to leave quickly.
He felt the urgency, as he didn't want the Viscount to die before imparting him the metal manipulation knowledge. The Spear of Infinity was a fantastic instrument of war, and Sylvester wanted to use it to the fullest now.
"Then, I bid you farewell, Lord Einarr. May the Holy Light enlighten this kingdom."
With that, Sylvester and Sir Dolorem headed to gather their luggage and find Bishop Lazark.
On their way, everyone bowed their heads or directly prostrated at the sight of Sylvester. He was no less than a god by that point, as the army of thirty thousand peasants had mostly been disassembled. As the men returned to their families across the Sorrow Kingdom, words about Sylvester's work spread.
And as expected, every time the story was retold, something more was added to it, more absurd than before. At the moment, the story told the tale of Sylvester slaying not only the Grand Duke, but also the demon army of the Grand Duke and a Dragon for some god-forsaken reason.
Not only that, Sylvester had apparently flown into the sky like a reverse shooting star and had taken his muti-armed, multi-headed, giant godly form, depicting him as the true son of Solis.
"Your grace, please bless me! I am about to become a father." A man came and laid down flat on his face beside Sylvester's feet.
Having no other choice, Sylvester shined some light on the man's head and made him stand up. "May the lord bless you, my fellow brother in faith."
The man, elated, jumped and excitedly ran away. It was an occurrence all too common, and for some reason, he met men like that every day. Somehow, despite all the poverty, hunger, and destruction, a baby boom was going on.
But Sylvester understood very well that many of those babies were, sadly, born from some inhuman atrocities inflicted upon innocent women by Widowmakers.
"Did you receive a reply from the Holy Land, Lord Bard?" Sir Dolorem asked as they neared the monastery.
With a sight, Sylvester denied. "Sadly, not yet. It's been months, so the reply should be on… Ah! Look, a Running Man is coming this way. Let me ask him if a letter came."
Sylvester stopped the plainly dressed man on a galloping horse. "My friend, is there any letter for Archbishop Sylvester Maximilian?"
"You are Lord Bard?" The Running Man asked, jumping from the horse with excitement.
Sylvester made a small halo behind his head for a few seconds with a hymn under his breath. "I am."
"O' great Solis, I am blessed. I come from the head branch in the Highland Kingdom to deliver a letter specifically to you, your grace. Here, it's with the golden Holy Land seal." The man excitedly handed the letter.
Sylvester knew the golden seal meant the Pope had spoken. So he quickly sent the Running Man away and opened it, wishing to see what he desired the most. "About time this cam—"
He stopped speaking in the middle and lowered his head, frustration evident on his visage. "It seems we're returning home after our time in the Highland Kingdom."
Sir Dolorem took the letter from Sylvester and read it under his breath. 'I commend your concern for the Sorrow Kingdom. However, you must not forget your responsibilities to the church and the entire realm. Your abilities are too valuable to be limited to just one place.
'You are required to spread the word of the Lord to other kingdoms, and furthermore, there is yet much to learn under my tutelage. You need training in warfare and governance, as well as knowledge of magic spells and prohibited curses.
'Thus, with great regret and deep disappointment, I must decline your request to be appointed as the Chief Administrator of the Sorrow Kingdom. I humbly suggest that you direct your attention towards honing your skills under the wise tutelage of Viscount Mineworth and hasten your return. Until then, may you be well, and may the holy light enlighten you.'
Sir Dolorem sighed and patted Sylvester's shoulder. "He is not wrong. You are more important as a clergyman in the Holy Land than as an administrator of some kingdom."
Sylvester agreed, as much as he didn't want to. "Of course, for years, it's been clear. My fate is not my own to steer."
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