Sir Dolorem wouldn’t have wanted him to mourn endlessly and refuse to work on what truly matters. They worked and fought so hard for years to reach that point; now, it was time to work.

Sylvester woke up in the morning, a day after the funeral. He still lived in the Bright Mother complex and had no desire to move out, no matter his status. One of the reasons was that he wanted to be with Xavia as much as possible, and the other was that all the Bright Mothers were utmost loyal to him, just like the Inquisitors. Even if weak, they’d rather jump in front of an arrow to save him than allow him to get injured.

He donned his regular robes as usual, just slightly different in embroidery to separate him from the rest. His mitre was the only thing that could convey that he was the Pope. He gazed at the container of Sir Dolorem’s ashes and bid farewell. “See you later, old man.”

He went to the living room, where Xavia had cooked a big meal to cheer everyone’s hearts despite feeling down herself. Zeke was also there, sitting in normal robes, not his armor. Miraj was also neatly seated on a heightened chair made for him and waiting diligently for the meal.

He walked over to the kitchen and helped Xavia set the table, “Will you be returning to work?”

Xavia just noticed him and tried to stop him, “What are you doing, Max? You’re the Pope, don’t—”

Sylvester continued to help, “And that somehow allows me to be lazy? I’m your son first, Mum, don’t ever forget that. Let’s eat now. I need to meet with the council later.”

They all sat around the table and ate in silence. Minds filled with a frenzy of thoughts and some fears for the future, but they kept it to themselves, not wanting to worry the others. Eventually, they all finished eating and got ready to head out. Xavia was returning to work in the sick bay, and Zeke was her full-time bodyguard.

“I’ll see you in the evening.” Sylvester left the house and went down the stairs. He occasionally saw a few Bright Mothers and received their official salutes and blessings as their son in all but name.

At the road in front of the building, an extravagant carriage waited for him, pulled by six horses, and even the reinsman was an Archbishop-ranked man. But Sylvester walked past the carriage into the barn and soon came out with a bicycle. After all, he was the Pope now, and what better advertisement for the bicycle than riding it himself?

“Your Holiness! Please use the carriage!” The reinsman cried, seeing Sylvester leave, and followed him.

But he didn’t stop and eventually reached the Pope’s Palace. However, he felt the need to make a small parking space for bicycles later, as he had no place to leave it. He just saw his carriage coming closer, and waved at the reinsman to take care of it.

As he walked upstairs to the Palace, everyone saluted him, or stopped just to gossip. Sylvester had no time to waste and walked straight into the Sanctum Council chamber. This time, he was holding it officially, and only the true, newly appointed Council members were allowed to come in.

There was Gabriel as the new Saint Wazir, Inquisitor High Lord with Aurora, the new chief economist—Saint Keymaster, the ex-slave, and Healer Hendrix as the new Saint Medico. At last, there was Saint Externum, now Elyon, and also Felix as the Saint Viceman. The Spymaster was still kept a secret, as one thing was left to do.

“Stay seated.” Sylvester strode in and took his seat before removing his mitre and placing it aside. “Four things are on the agenda today, and I’ll need you all to help me implement them. Gabriel, the first thing you’ll do after this is issue an announcement to all the royal families and nobles—All Kingdoms are barred from waging wars on each other. Any dispute will be solved by me as the mediator.”

Gabriel wrote everything down, but didn’t shy away from asking questions, “Your Holiness, if you do this, they’ll come to you for the tiniest of problems—don’t underestimate their pettiness. You will be annoyed by them soon enough.”

Sylvester nodded, having expected that. “That’s why All Kingdoms shall come together and form an organization called the Round Table League. All members will send one representative. Try to solve any disputes, form major economic plans for united growth, and form trade deals with each other. If any deadlock appears, the Pope will intervene.”

In a way, Sylvester created a League of Nations type of system, but since he held supreme power as the mediator, the chances of it breaking apart and failing were much less. He hoped to be the Pope for at least three centuries, so he believed it was enough time to sort things out over time.

“That’s much better,” Gabriel muttered, writing down the basic structure.

With that, Sylvester looked at Darius, his new chief economist. He had known the man for so long and had taught him the basics of modern economics. “Darius, we’re going to implement the paper currency model I discussed. It won’t be a quick process and could take decades. At first, only phase in paper money into the administrative level of trade between kingdoms. Later, people should be able to exchange their owned gold with paper money—remember to go slow and formalize a larger policy. The Holy Land will act as a reserve bank, holding the authority to print money.”

Darius knew what Sylvester was trying to do. By being the controller of the financial system of Sol, no kingdom would be able to stand before his might. It would only be a matter of time before the royal families start losing power over their kingdom’s micro-economy, as the people wouldn’t need them.

Darius, excited and honored to work there, saluted Sylvester. He had managed Sylvester’s business for years and was aware of most things. “I’ll formulate the plan and bring it to you, Your Holiness. But I will have to purge my department first—there are some moles of various nobles.”

“Ask the Lord Inquisitor for help,” Sylvester ordered and looked at Aurora next. “From now on, women can also become clergy members. They can also marry and build families, the same for male clergy members. But all those who commit to such a life will be barred from going above the rank of Bishop. However, on a person-to-person basis, we may select a few if their talents suit a position.”

“You’ll face pushback from other old members,” Aurora warned him sternly. “They almost tried to remove Father from Lord Inquisitor’s position when he tried to get me accepted as a Guardian of Light.”

Sylvester knew it, and he had no mercy for them. “Aurora, you stand as a shining example. You’re a role model for women everywhere in the world that anything is possible. Women can also be Grand Wizards—Queen Trinity has proven it as well. No matter how many old Clergymen oppose my decision, they can either accept it or fade into history’s forgotten pages.”

The Inquisitor High Lord approved of Sylvester’s stern demeanor. “The faith of Solis is fair to all who hold the light within their hearts. Anyone who denies the Lord’s teaching should have their tongue cut in parts.”

‘Back to being fanatic then?’ Sylvester thought in his head.

“Gabriel.” He called his Saint Wazir’s name again. The man was going to be the busiest in the realm after Sylvester. “The world’s largest and first official printing press will be made inside the Holy Land. Its job would be to spread knowledge. Reprint all sorts of books, especially the ones that help teach reading, writing, and all the elementary subjects. Pass the order to all monasteries as well, to teach people; old, young, or children, how to read basic things and write, from word characters to numbers—subtraction, addition, and multiplication.”

Gabriel gulped and rubbed his forehead, “This is going to be a lot of work, Ma… I mean, Your Holiness.”

“It’s alright. Call me Max or Sylvester in this room—We’re a family trying to improve this realm, and we can’t do it if we’re only focused on our hierarchies and can’t speak candidly. And Gabriel, you have hundreds of useless assistants who are far from being used fully. Sort them out and make them work—Educating the masses is a top priority.”

Finally, Sylvester turned his attention to his own job, “I’ll formulate the Engineering Department, as there’s considerable infrastructure to build. The Capital of Gracia, Green City, needs to be constructed from the ground up—but much better this time. Of course, all that is only possible if I survive where Saint Scepter wishes to take me.”

Faces fell in the room, and they shifted in their seats. It was an uncomfortable feeling that they all felt, seeing Sylvester having become the Pope, but also knowing it might just be for a very short time.

“Don’t—I spoke with Solis and was told I’m on the right path. If the all-knowing Lord does not fear my demise, I shouldn’t worry either. No matter the tests, I’ll try to pass them with all I have.” Sylvester reassured them and also himself. “Back to work. Healer Hendrix, as the new Saint Medico, I want you to oversee the construction of a number of hospitals around the continent. They’ll be attached to all our major monasteries—we shall call them Grace Hospitals. I need you to design the layout, rules, medical processes, and everything a healer may need as structured guidelines—we’ll print books and start training healers.”

With those simple changes, Sylvester effectively tried to better the financial system, education system, social order, and at least, healthcare. As long as all four parts worked out efficiently, Sylvester had no doubt the economy and quality of life in the realm would significantly improve.

“If none of you have anything to say, the Sanctum Council is adjourned.” Sylvester dismissed them and remained seated to work on some documents.

One by one, everyone left, but Healer Hendrix remained in the chair beside Sylvester. Only after the two were alone, he spoke seriously. “The plague is spreading faster than the Demon’s grasp in Beastaria. The elves have managed to keep it beyond their kingdom’s borders, but not for long. Countless have died, and millions are afflicted now.” .

Sylvester rubbed his chin with one hand. “We expected this reaction. How many doses of cures have we gathered?”

“Since you planned for this months in advance, I’ve been able to secure fifty million doses,” Healer Hendrix answered, his voice slightly uncertain. “When are we going to stop the plague? Millions will die, Your Holiness—They may stand against us regarding faith, but they’re still living, breathing beings with intelligence.”

“I hold no prejudice based on faith, Hendrix. But I can’t help them until they come to our shores and plead with me—To ensure their generations remember our helping hand, we must let them experience this.” Sylvester sternly replied, reminding the man where his oaths lay. They were in the business of long-term peace, not short-term bloated feelings.

Sighing, Healer Hendrix nodded, “I understand, Your Holiness. I’ll return and get to work.”

Finally, left alone with Miraj, Sylvester sorted the documents. He had written down everything about his future plans, all possibilities that could arise, and how to solve them. It was a guide to whoever may take the throne after him—just in case he didn’t survive inside that door.

“Maxy, I come with you!”

“No, I’ll go alone. I’ve already lost Sir Dolorem, and I can’t lose you too.” Sylvester rejected Miraj’s request.

Miraj pouted grumpily, “What about me? If you die, my life is useless—If I come with you, I can protect you, Maxy. Your magic can fail, but I won’t. You don’t even have two hands.”

“Still a no,” Sylvester replied.

Miraj angrily glared at him, “You can’t stop me from coming.”

“I’ll give you a hundred bananas if you don’t come.” Sylvester offered him half-heartedly. “I’m going there tomorrow, so be silent and let me plan.”

“Ummm… I don’t care about bananas!” Miraj growled and closed his eyes. In his head, there was no way he could let Sylvester go alone.

‘I won’t be alone ever again—I’ll sneak in with him.’ Miraj silently planned.

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