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nSylvester finally had some free time for himself. After months of hard work, he returned to one of his pet projects–making a violin.

nHe didn’t want to start some musical revolution or such. He merely wished to once again do what he loved once and feel calm through the music. Of course, it can help with his hymns as well…he was called the Bard, after all.

nHowever, he was stuck as he wished to find the best wood for it. He had already designed it and tested it with regular wood over the years, and it took him a long time to refine the design to perfection.

nWhy did it take him so long? The reason was a change in atmosphere. Although the planet’s gravity was nearly the same as Earth’s, the air was different since it was filled with Solarium.

nIn different conditions, the strings of a violin could produce different sounds. So he had to tweak things slowly to reach perfection. And now, he was finally going to find some wood…and his eyes were set on one tree that no one could even usually touch–the Soul Tree.

n“I hope you finish soon… I loved listening to your test violins.” Xavia chirped. She was still at home today as she wished to spend some time with her son. Although Sylvester was busy, he told her they’d go out once he returned. Good or not, he hoped to take care of her and see if he could teach her some better fighting magic while advancing his own.

n“You were not really helpful. No matter what I played, you loved it.” Sylvester complained while eating breakfast.

nXavia embarrassingly chuckled. “I was not lying… To my ears, it all sounded great. By the way, Max, how did you come up with this idea? And that time you also showed me carbon water… when do you research all this?”

n‘I’m afraid, even if I told you, you’d not believe it.’

n“It’s carbonated water… and it’s simple to do as long as you understand basic natural alchemy. As for this musical instrument, I merely wished for something soothing to accompany my hymns, so I spent years working. I’m not the genius you think I am, mother…it’s just your parent’s bias speaking.”

nShe didn’t buy his argument, however. “No, it’s not biased. My son is just too good. I know it!”

nSylvester sighed as he stood up to wash his dishes and then leave. “I will be going to the Soul Peninsula for the afternoon. Don’t cook anything for the evening. We will go to the Guild Peninsula and eat there.”

nShe chirped in agreement. “Understood, Priest Sylvester.”

nSylvester picked sleeping Chonky from his room, put him on his shoulder, and left. ‘This boy, he’s still sleeping on my shoulder.’

nHe went to the nearest port and caught a ferry to the Soul Peninsula. As for permissions, all he had to do was request it with his old religious teaching mentor, Archbishop Noah. Since the man already believed Sylvester was the one true God’s Favored, there was nothing off the table from him.

nSoon, he landed on the peninsula, showed his documents, and walked into the enclosed region. He didn’t go to the tree at first. Instead, he looked for the hut of the old man, Grandpa Monk, the fifth guardian of light.

n“There it is!” He noticed that some weeds had overgrown near the old man’s thatched roofed hut, and not only that. Now there was a big black bear sitting at the door, guarding it. Sylvester was not afraid of it, though, so he proceeded as planned.

n“Grandpa Monk, are you still there?” He called out the name, even though he knew the man was inside as the hut’s chimney was spewing smoke.

nIn a few seconds, the door creaked open, revealing the old bald man with the same long mustache and beard as the last time. He even appeared delighted to see Sylvester. “Good timing, young one. Come, I made some tea.”

nSylvester walked in by skipping over the bear. Chonky, however, decided to stay behind and mess with the poor animal. He started slapping the bear awake, only to have him end up confused.

n“Where did you find him?” Sylvester inquired.

nGrandpa Monk rubbed his beard solemnly as he poured tea into cups. “That, I found the poor boy in the forest. He was sleeping, and I stumbled across him while looking for some herbs. He’s a good lad, didn’t attack me, and followed me back home to ensure I was safe.”

n‘Why am I not shocked?’ Sylvester thought.

n“Why were you looking for herbs? Do you need something? I can get it for you from the market.” He offered.

n“Bwahaha… I am fine, son. My old bones still need some exercise from time to time, and picking herbs is the best activity. I not only get to see nature but concoct potions. Do you want a potion? I have many that are useless to me… like that aphrodisiac.” 𝘦.𝘰𝘳𝑔

nSylvester narrowed his gaze and looked at the man before jokingly asking, “Old man, are you thinking of finally leaving the clergy and exploring the lustful world as a knight?”

n“…”

nGrandpa Monk’s face turned serious all of a sudden as if offended. He glared at Sylvester for a whole minute. “Pfft…” But then suddenly burst into uncontrolled laughter. “Bwahaha… don’t make this old man laugh so much now, child. My bones will break apart. I am a man belonging to the Solis…indulging in the flesh is the work of you youngsters now.”

nSylvester shrugged. “I don’t have any interest in such things. I just want to live in peace, see the world in peace and make people happy with my hymns. I hope that’s not too much to ask.”

n“I’m afraid that is–son. In this world, one can have anything they want, love, lust, war, or some other sick fetish–but not peace. Because you see, this world has a grave disease…disease of short-sightedness. People now live in the moment without thinking about the consequences of their actions that may come tomorrow–and that is making our world hollow.”

nSylvester agreed with that evaluation. “True indeed. All the sinner lords I’ve met recently turned corrupt because they didn’t think of long-term consequences.”

n“I heard about your recent work. Good job, son. The Bright Mothers deserve our protection even if it costs us our lives. Because if we can’t even protect them, how can we boast about keeping the peace across the world.” Grandpa Monk finished his cup of tea and tapped his staff on the floor, making the teacups fly away to the side table. “Well, tell me why you came here now. I know it was not to meet this dying old man.”

nSylvester smiled and honestly answered. “It was actually three things. First, I did want to check up on you. Second, I wished to meditate here and see if there has been any update on that vision of mine. Lastly, I needed permission to take some wood from the Soul Tree.”

nThe old man released a dangerous aura all of a sudden. Sylvester could not smell any emotions from the man all this time, but now he felt pure anger.

nHe clarified quickly. “I don’t want to do anything strange with it. But just create the musical instrument I have designed so that I can better sing my hymns and purify the masses. I felt what better wood than the most blessed one.”

n“Ah! That? If it was up to me, I’d agree.” the anger vanished instantly, revealing the smile again. “But only the Holy Father can permit it. Even then, you can only take the wood from the top, from the new branches. Don’t worry; Axel was supposed to come and meet me today. You should hang around and return after meditating.”

n‘This seems a better option. I could always steal the wood with Chonky, but who knows if they watch every single branch over? They could easily pinpoint the thief.’

n“In that case, I will go and meditate first. See you in a few hours.”

nHe walked to the door and tried to open it, but instead, it opened on its own, and a tall, old man entered without looking and bumped into Sylvester.

nSylvester strapped back and glanced. “Holy father?”

nThe old Pope did not look like a Pope at all right now. The man had no unique jewelry or ornaments. Instead, he was wearing simple peasant clothes, a gray tunic, and brown pants.

nThe Pope chuckled, noticing Sylvester. “Ah, so you’ve kept this spoiled old man busy? Thank you, child.”

nBam!–Grandpa Monk threw a pillow at the Pope’s face, smacking it hard. Then he laughed, “Hah, it seems your reaction speed has gotten worse, Axel.”

nThe Pope gritted his teeth, stuck between maintaining his image in front of Sylvester and replying to the old man with equal violence. “Grandpa Monk, please don’t throw such things.”

n“I will. What are you going to do? Cry on my lap like in the past?”

nPope’s brows twitched, and his fist clenched. “Please maintain the decorum, Grandpa Monk. We have a guest.”

n“Who? Young Sylvester? Haha, he’s not a guest!”

nBam!–And this time, Sylvester also received a pillow to the face.

n‘This old man, he was so wise and sage-like a moment ago. I guess having the Pope nearby invoked the goofy father mode.’ Sylvester didn’t mind the act. But he was more interested in getting his precious wood.

n“Did you bring it?” Grandpa Monk asked all of a sudden.

nThe Pope grinned while nodding. “I never forget it, old foggy… but.”

nSylvester noticed the gaze and thought there must be something important the two had to discuss. So he asked for permission quickly. “Respected holy father, I came to ask for permission to take short top branches from Soul Tree. I wish to build a musical instrument for myself–one that shall purify minds and hearts.”

n“You want wood from the soul tree?” Pope turned serious, eyes piercing into Sylvester as if a hawk looking at prey.

n‘What’s with this pressure? And why do I smell lies?’

n“Yes, holy father,” he replied.

n“No!”

n“…”

n“But, I can allow if you do one thing for me… It’s top secret, and you must take it to your grave.”

nSylvester gulped and had second thoughts running across his mind. But he realized he couldn’t take a step back, or it’d spoil his image in front of the Pope. “I will do as you say, your holiness.”

nGrandpa Monk’s serious words resounded, too. “Are you sure, son? If you do this, there is no going back.”

n‘What the hell do they want from me? I just want some wood!’ Sylvester cursed silently and nodded.

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n500 GT = 1 bonus chapter.(Already half done)

n1 Super Gift = 1 Bonus chapter.

n800 Stones = Bonus Chapter.

nAPE TOGETHER STRONG!

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