Chapter 28: 28. Hymn Politics

Sylvester noticed visible annoyance in Bishop Norman Spring's mannerisms whenever the latter would look at him. The scent and the taste also helped in judging the situation. Then, from how he treated Romel, it became apparent that something was going on between him and Romel Riveria.

For him, the only way to find out about this was to look for this Bishop's background. Luckily, he had one loyal man in the Holy Land who could get him the necessary information. And if it became too much, he'd simply tell the Pope about this. He wasn't creating these relationships for no reason.

In the rest of the class, he stayed silent and studied the basic theory of runes. The subject turned out to be more about memorizing the various runes and being able to recreate them quickly instead of casting them.

Because casting them was, in theory, the easiest part. The runes worked through the flow of Solarium in a particular way. The Runes had a language that one could learn if one wanted to, but memorizing the rune syntax was enough.

To use them, one only needed to recreate them using their elements. Whichever element they were confident in, they could make it. But the hardest was air, and the easiest was fire, with water and earth falling in the mid-range.

But maintaining a rune was a challenging task as the intensity of Solarium mattered a lot, and it was not easy to regulate. The hardest runes to make were semi-permanent like Engravings, while easier ones were used alongside their elements for support. Holy runes fell in the middle, however.

'I have such an extreme affinity with light elements. I should be able to create these runes anywhere I wish to use them, and my light magic already acts as a deterrent for dark creatures, so learning Holy Magic should be among my priorities.'

'So it's like coding? A little mistake, and the whole code won't work?' Sylvester reckoned.

Sadly, he couldn't speak up, or the mad Bishop would simply shout that he disturbed him.

He did feel like killing the man, and one day he might, but right now, he was way weaker than a Bishop or Archwizard Rank. But that didn't mean he needed to deal with this mess.

'I should meet Sir Dolorem today.' He decided to head out and find the man in the Inquisitor camp.

The Inquisitors were scary folks to most. Even the clergymen felt on edge when meeting them. But Sylvester felt at home because they all respected him so much—like a god.

"For today, your task is to go home and memorize the ice-spear summoning rune scheme. Tomorrow, I can ask any of you to draw it on the board. But don't worry, I don't expect you to be able to perform them yet.

"Class is dismissed."

Bishop Norman quickly left as if he didn't just make a mortal enemy out of a very vengeful man.

In his past life, Sylvester had spent decades searching for the mole that compromised his location in the USSR, which resulted in his wife's death. He searched and waited fifty years to kill the mole. So this was a wrong move by Norman by all means.

"Sheesh—he hates you." Felix sighed. He was starting to feel that sitting with Sylvester was not the best decision he had made recently.

"Yes, and a bit too nice to Romel," Markus added, glaring at Romel with a narrowed gaze.

'I need to get the whole class on my side before doing anything. No, not just class. I need to get the rest of the faculty on my side. Luckily, the next class is for religious studies. The one thing I'm best at is melting hearts with my sermon.'

He made a clear plan to start singing his new hymn as soon as the mentor entered. He reckoned that since the man will be teaching religion, he must be on a fanatic level and will respect the god's bard.

"Well, if he keeps this attitude, I will go directly to the Headmaster," Sylvester replied to the young guy beside him.

Felix, who knew the world of aristocracy, shook his head. "I don't know. He's a Bishop and an Archwizard. People of his standing rarely get punished."

"People of his standing rarely behave like him. I'm an orphan, lived my whole life in a chief monastery, and was trained by the Bishop there. He was the kindest being ever." Markus added.

Sylvester sighed and relaxed back. Miraj was whispering in his ears the whole time, saying. 'I want to eat that skull.' He was undoubtedly protective of his beloved caretaker.

"Sit down!"

Suddenly, the door opened, and yet another oldie entered. This one had long white hair and beard spread apart, his face so wrinkled and old that it was shocking he was even alive. But at the same time, he had a smile that emitted positivity. He had a standard simple staff with a blue orb in one hand and a thick book in the other.

Sylvester knew this was the next mentor. So he shut his eyes, raised his right hand, and started sending out light magic from his palm. The halo appeared behind his head in no time, basking Felix and Markus in warmth as they were close.

♫I said to the Lord, I am your servant.

Just a mere bard, my voice is fervent.

May our peace be your accord.

Hear me O' Lord, Hear me O' Lord.♫

Everyone's eyes focused on his figure as slowly they realized that Sylvester, as the Lord's Bard, was doing what was expected of him. The mentor entering stopped just a few steps inside the room, wide-eyed.

♫Beggars us mortals are,

Some have hearts black as tar.

A few sing your name but curse from afar.

Even those grace with aligned stars.♫

♫I shall take the pain of this world.

I shall take all curses hurled.

I shall take the sorrow.

But I will never stop singing,

Even if my death comes tomorrow.♫

Thud!—The old religious teacher fell to his knees and raised his arms towards Sylvester as if praying to him. His eyes widened but now seemed hazy, as if emotions had taken over him. His lips silently moved, chanting some prayers or maybe repeating after Sylvester.

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♫Give them calm, these poor souls.

Enlighten their way with your light.

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This world, you are the one who controls.

Wrong or right, buried in depth or height.

Forgive them for their slight.

Bless their world too shines bright.♫

♫I shall never allow your name be marr'd.

For all hardships, I stand prepared.

If I waver, I shall face your sword.

Here sings your bard.

Hear me O' Lord, Hear me O' Lord.♫

Sylvester didn't abruptly stop. Instead, he kept singing mentally to keep the halo behind his head. He wished to give everyone a moment to savor the scene of him appearing so godly. This would have a lasting effect on all young Deacons and their Mentor, just like how it had affected the Inquisitors.

Clap! Clap!

"So elegant! This is the most beautiful hymn my ears have been blessed with in my long life."

This was not the mentor speaking. However, a new man walked into the room. He was also an old man with long white hair and a beard. But there was something different about him. First, his face appeared energetic and young, and he was wearing a bright red robe different from all others. His aura oozed confidence, wisdom, and sheer badassery.

"Ah! Headmaster! You heard him as well?" The religious mentor stood up and moved out of the entryway.

Sylvester opened his eyes and looked at the handsome old man. Then, he stood up to greet, making others follow his move.

"Sit, everyone. I am your Headmaster, Cardinal Geralt Brightson. I was only making rounds and never expected to witness this. Deacon Sylvester Maximilian, your hymns are worth being recorded in history and repeated in every monastery worldwide."

"Thank you, headmaster." Sylvester was happy because this was the best-case scenario.

Suddenly the headmaster walked toward Sylvester while fiddling in his pockets. "I think this deserves a reward. Lord's Bard should not feel his abilities aren't appreciated."

He took out a small red crystal and handed it to Sylvester. "That, my child, is a one-time token to meet me and ask me questions about your magic and learn from me. Use it whenever you are prepared or stuck somewhere. But remember, I only give ten of these every year, so use them wisely."

With that, the headmaster left, having more important things to do around the school.

The Religious mentor gave a bow to the headmaster and then turned towards the class of still in shock young Deacons.

"I will be your mentor for your Studies of Solis. I am Archbishop Noah, and you may call me Mentor or simply by name. Deacon Sylvester, you are fortunate. The headmaster is a step away from entering the rank of Grand Wizard. If you are lucky, you might get to learn vital knowledge." He politely said.

Archbishop Noah had a strange way of speaking slowly in a jovial tone. The man truly loved his work, what it seemed. "And the rest of you must try harder to get the same token from the Headmaster. You are all candidates for God's Favored. You have unique strengths that brought you here. Focus on them and impress everyone.

"Now, let us begin for today. First, I shall teach you about the blessings of Solis, the way his holy light changed the world and made it bright…."

Although Archbishop Noah had a very enthusiastic personality and his way of teaching was interesting, there was nothing worth discussing in his class. Instead, they were being taught the way of Solis, the various preaching methods, the history, and various essential prayers.

A few Deacons were holding their yawn the entire class. Sylvester tried to keep a straight face and show sincerity. After all, as long as this man was happy with him, he could do a lot.

Eventually, the class came to an end. There were only two classes in one day, each going for three hours with an hour of break in between. There was no concept of Sunday, so the classes happened every day.

Their subjects, for now, were elemental magic, incantation, runes, healing, astrology, Religious Studies, and Knight's studies.

The timetable was divided into three ways. First, three days of the week were for theory, the next two were for physical training, and the last two were for Knight's studies and trading. The classes on theory days would end after two classes, but on the other days, they will run from seven in the morning to seven in the evening.

Their life would only become busier as they grow and start taking one of their specializations.

For now, they could relax. However, sadly, Sylvester could not. As soon as the class was over, he set off for the nearby Inquisitor's camp, which was on the outskirts of the Pope's Peninsula. Because of the nomadic lifestyle that Inquisitors had, they never tried to live in luxury even when in the Holy Land, so their camp appeared to have walls made of wooden pillars, and past it was a tent-town.

The moment he entered, one after another, each Inquisitor Knight fell to their knees and started praying to him, asking for a blessing. Some wanted it for their pregnant wife, and some wanted it for their sick children.

He silently nodded and raised his right palm to shine some light magic on their bodies to make them feel warm and blessed. After all, these men were his first cult members.

Eventually, he reached the largest tent in the middle and was stopped at the entrance. "I want to meet Sir Dolorem."

"He's busy meeting the Lord Inquisitor, God's Favored. I will bring a seat for you to wait on." The Inquisitor Knight respectfully offered him.

"Oh… I will come later then." He decided to walk away. Ever since the Inquisitor High Lord threatened Xavia in his presence, he couldn't bring himself to trust the man.

"Wait!" a call came from inside the camp.

Soon a knight in golden armor appeared. Sylvester remembered this was Hans, the right hand of Lord Inquisitor.

"Inquisitor High Lord wishes to meet you. Please come inside."

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