I Became The Pope, Now What?

Chapter 82 [BONUS CHAPTER] 82. Just Saying

Sylvester sighed as he looked at the scene. He had heard about this practice in his world too, although it was historically dismissed as just a rumor and justification for the sexual crimes committed by nobles in the old days.

But here, it seemed the thing was real. According to the right of the night, it allowed feudal lords to have sexual relations with subordinate women, in particular, on wedding nights of the women. This was likely some sort of a sick fetish or simple power tripping of nobles, but it was a curse that left mental scars on poor innocents for the rest of their lives.

"Which Baron?" He asked the people, showing not much reaction.

"Baron Fredrick Bosch! He's the vile creature that infects this land." A man from the crowd shouted fairly strong words for their overlord.

But now, Sylvester was confused about what he should even do. He can't just take their word and kill a noble lord. That was an overreach of his authority, even if he was the Cardinal Suprima right now—a temporary one at that.

"We can at least give these two a proper funeral." He told Sir Dolorem. It was also important to burn the bodies according to the traditions to ensure they are not taken by a dark creature and turned into something vile.

? Sir Dolorem looked at Sylvester strangely. He expected Sylvester to jump into action, sing a hymn and talk about killing the Baron. But, the latter appeared too silent.

Sylvester noted the former's confusion. "This thing is likely very common across the world, Sir Dolorem. Not just Barons but Viscounts, Counts, Dukes, and even Kings probably indulge in such vile things. Unfortunately, it's human nature, power corrupts, and these nobles have nobody watching over them because all are nearly the same. So how many will we punish?"

Sir Dolorem had to agree with this, as he had heard many such incidents in the past, and in none were the nobles punished. Sexual crime, unless done against a Bright Mother, was not seen as something severe in the world. It was usually left to the related parties.

"T-Then… you won't do anything?" The Bright Mother asked.

Sylvester shrugged. "My hands are tied. I can not take the word of commoners against a lord without any proof. That's how things work. That's the law. And as Bishop Moris said, men are not equal. Let's cremate the bodies first, at least."

So they got to do just that. The local people brought all the necessary things, while the Inquisitor soldiers brought the wood to make a pyre. The two lovers would be burnt together, along with the baby that never got to be.

Being the highest authority, Sylvester held the blessed book with the laws of light in it. It was his duty to perform the last right, the least he could do.

"Under the light of Solis, we are here to-"

But suddenly, all voices and noises stopped as everyone turned their faces to look toward the road. Two horses appeared to be coming their way. The people did not recognize them, but Sylvester did.

As the two horses stopped near him, he asked. "Where were you two? And who is this?"

There was a man hogtied and placed on the horse's back safely. Felix smiled and slapped the tied man. "When Gab and I arrived, we saw him trying to hide the woman's body. So we gave him a chase. So meet Sir Klaus, a retainer of Baron Fredrick, and apparently, Baron Fredrick wanted to violate this woman on her wedding night for a practice lost in time."

Sylvester looked at the man with suspicion. "Do you have his identification?"

"I do, this is his rank plate, and this is his noble seal." Felix handed Sylvester the two.

Now, Sylvester had fair enough evidence since one of the retainers of the Baron was here. But, just to be sure, he asked him again while scaring him in the name of Solis. "Speak, Sinner! What were you doing here, or quibble not if I pronounce you a heathen."

Of course, being pronounced a heathen was as good as a death sentence for any noble. So the man sang like a cuckoo. The effect of Felix's earlier interrogation was also apparent. "I… I didn't harm them… my…"

"His eminence, you stand before Cardinal Suprima!" Bishop Moris barked, reminding the man to stay within limits and respect.

Hearing Sylvester's rank, Sir Klaus started to shiver as he knew that Cardinal Suprima was akin to a king, sometimes having even more authority than the Duke of the Duchy. "Baron asked me to get rid of the bodies so the matter can be put to rest… he was scared of an uprising."

Sylvester nodded and thought about his next move. 'What should I do? If I don't do anything, will I be scrutinized? I am supposed to be God's Favored, after all. A baron, ha? Aren't there hundreds of nobles of this rank in the Gracia Kingdom alone? Maybe I should shoot the arrow from someone else's shoulder.'

At that, his eyes fell on the angry people of the nearby villages. An idea appeared in his head. 'I do have an angry mob. They just need the green light. But I can't be seen as an instigator.'

"Scribe, come here and write an official letter addressed to Baron Fredrick. Write as I say, 'It has come to my notice that you dared invoke the Right of the First Night on your people. A practice outlawed five hundred years ago, a practice that harms the believers of the faith, the brethren, and sistren.

"For the crime of breaking holy law, pushing two lovers to suicide, and then trying to hide it, I pronounce you and you alone—excommunicated.' Did you write all that? Put my name and rank on the bottom. I will stamp it."

Sylvester used his wax seal, melted its front with a small fire from the finger, and plastered it on the document. "Now, enclose it in an envelope and send it to the permanent Cardinal Suprima and the Duke."

Soon, a Running Man in the ranks was called forward. Sylvester took out five gold graces from his pocket and handed them to the man. "I know you're tired, so use this money on the way to rest, eat, and stay at the finest inns."

Sir Dolorem, Felix, and Gabriel were confused about why Sylvester was doing all this since his decision to excommunicate would easily get overturned once they reached the Holy Land. He's a temporary Cardinal Suprima, after all.

"Let's finish the cremation." He declared and walked to the pyre once again. He spoke the prayers again, but this time there was something different in his words… they felt more meaningful in certain ways.

"O'Lord, you see all, you punish all. The sinner is known, and the crimes are already shown. May the sinner be excommunicated, so the public justice could be served—worry not, for we shall be careful to only punish the Baron—while chanting your name in compassion.

"Must it happen immediately, for there exist men of authority who shall dare change their destiny. Lend me your power, O'Lord, let the faith in you be restored… Amen!"

As he finished, an Inquisitor knight came forward and put the pyre on fire. However, the people were dumbly staring at Sylvester, too scared to ask him or misinterpret him.

Sylvester smelled the confusion, too, so he looked at the crowd and winked. Then he turned around. "Let's move on, Bishop Moris. I wish not to be late to the Holy Land. As for the Baron, I'm sure he will get what's in his fate… disease, lightning from the sky, or the ire of the fire—it won't be too late. I just hope it's only the Baron who gets punished and none else, or that shall be a sin as well."

All smiles, Bishop Moris nodded. In his heart, respect for Sylvester increased manifolds. "As you wish, your eminence. Inquisitors, begin to march."

Quickly, someone brought Sylvester's horse to the front and let him mount it. Slowly, the army prepared to move while the pyre was still burning.

The crowd of nearly three hundred people bowed their heads towards Sylvester in respect and adoration for his quickness to bring justice.

But Sylvester warned them too, albeit in rhymes since officially he never told them to do anything.

?There lurks evil, be it day's bright or darkness of the night.

To oppose evil is an eternal fight.

When cornered, a weapon is your right.?

?Love, adorations, and respect for the Lord,

Be kind, and your appeals won't be ignored.

But, sin—and face consequences you can't afford.?

The trumpets of the march resounded then. Sylvester ended his words as he started moving.

?So long, people of the graced land.

Tests of fate must you withstand.

Sometimes punish the condemned—with your own hand.?

Once his words ended, the Inquisitors boomed in their own marching songs, full of blood, death, and the praise of the Lord. Indeed, the Inquisitors were usually the assholes, and they didn't even try to act friendly, as apparent from the songs.

But thankfully, Sylvester had status among them, akin to their mascot. A mascot that sings, shines, and slays—perfect in their adoring eyes.

"That was truly smart, your eminence." Bishop Moris said as he rode beside Sylvester.

Sylvester was also impressed by the man and what he said about 'man making bad laws'. "Man made laws that are a shame, I agree, Bishop. But I, right now, hold the authority to make them tame—interpret them as per my wish."

"You are truly suitable to be the best politician the holy land has ever seen. I hope I see you achieve greatness before my demise, your eminence."

"How old are you?" Sylvester inquired.

"I'm young, but in our professions, our age never determines our lifespan. We just hope to achieve whatever we can with what time we have."

'True, and with the disease, dark creatures, and war against the east, death is always around the corner.' Sylvester thought and silently rode the rest of the way.

By evening, they arrived at the destination, Hideport, the port town from where they'd take a ship to Holy Land, as the Inquisitor army was big. For the night, they were to stay in the town, however.

"I wonder how the people at Goldstown are." Sylvester wondered with Sir Dolorem as he realized how close he was to that place.

"Last I heard, they found a new gold vein recently. So I'd say they are doing great."

They walked to the local tavern to get something nice to eat. It was supposed to be a high-class tavern, so at least they could have peace of mind. Felix, Gabriel, and Bishop Moris were there, too, while the Bright Mother was asleep.

"Why are there so many orphans around here?" Sylvester asked as he noticed young kids walking around or sitting on the sides of roads, asking for money from the passerby.

"Refugees, I believe. Riveria is the richest of all kingdoms, but they have a policy of throwing away their problems to others. So despite being criticized, they care not." Bishop Moris explained.

Sylvester pitied the kids. They were too young to work and too old to be taken in by a family.

"Hey, kid." he tossed a silver crown at one of the young kids, about ten years old, as he walked. However, the kid suddenly rushed to him, face full of excitement and arms held out.

"Lord Bard! You're lord bard, right? I want to…"

Woosh!

Thud!

"Aaaa!" The boy, however, cried in pain all of a sudden as the bard's spear pierced through his chest and impaled him.

He fell back and gagged in his blood—dying.

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[A/N: Next chap coming in an hour or so.]

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