Chapter 283: 283. A Dream Of Immortality

Sylvester took a long cold breath and settled back into the cushioned seat of the stagecoach. He digested all the words the old man spoke, and they did a number on him.

'Who knew the man whose emotions I could not smell was creating a character profile on me instead? And he believes I will become the Pope no matter what? I hope you are right, old man… I really hope so.'

Sylvester then opened the second parchment and read it as well. It was the recipe for the whole Sunshine Nectar drink. But there was a surprising paragraph written underneath all that.

'Son, I have also decided to give my little shack to you, as you're a regular visitor of the Soul Peninsula. Moreover, I have asked Axel to give you permanent permission to go to the Soul peninsula to meditate anytime you want. Visions can be critical, and you must not stop trying to see them.'

Sylvester sighed, folded both of them back, and put them into his pocket. "I don't know much about the early days of Grandpa Monk as a clergyman, but from what I've seen and felt—He was a good man."

"Any man who can claim to be the father figure of a pope has to be a great man, Archpriest." Saint Wazir replied without much thinking.

Sylvester, however, was keenly focused on the actions of the man. The rubbing of hands, the eyes darting here and there. It was the sign of a scared man. 'What could it be? Maybe…'

"What troubles you, Saint? Is it the Sorrow Kingdom or the Grand Duke of the Patch? Perhaps you fear His Holiness will destroy the entire Grand Duchy of the Patch in rage?" Sylvester asked him while making a few assumptions since there was no way the man would share it himself.

Saint Wazir looked at Sylvester in shock. "You… Are as sharp as they say. True, I'm fearful of the reaction of the Holy Father. The fifth Guardian died due to the Grand Duke. There is no denying it. But, we can not be seen as a retaliatory faction for no reason. The death was natural."

Sylvester had hit a nerve directly from the looks of it. "Wasn't it the Holy Father who signed to send Grandpa Monk in the first place? The man had basically retired to spend the last few years in peace. But, at the same time, I believe he appreciated this death as he died while serving the faith—the lord. There can be no greater martyrdom than that."

Saint Wazir kept his mouth shut after that. Of course, he knew what Sylvester said was right. But who was going to tell that to the Pope?

So, they soon arrived at the port where large ships were waiting for all of them to move. There were just two of them, as only one hundred people were allowed inside the funeral ceremony.

Everyone was silent and got onboard the ships. Quickly after that, they were taken to the closeby Golden peninsula with its giant golden temple still shining under the faint moonlight and the sun making its presence known on the distant horizon.

Everyone had their names and identification checked on the peninsula and then allowed to enter. After that, they all walked to the eastern edge of the peninsula, beyond the temple. There, a cliff was situated that looked over at the Endless Sea.

There, many large fire lanterns were placed here and there, with guards standing in their golden armours, specially placed to ensure none desecrated the pyre ready to be set on fire.

The Pope stood near the pyre in his complete ceremonial attire with a big mitre and vibrant robes on him. He held a big staff in one hand with various shining orbs, while on the other was a book.

'He looks devastated, no doubt.' Sylvester realised as he tried to stand in the front with Lady Aurora.

"Archpriest Sylvester Maximilian, come forward." The Pope's voice boomed suddenly, oozing nothing but authority and power at the moment. "You partake in this ceremony. It was the Fifth Guardian's last wish."

Sylvester looked around as all eyes now rested on him. Some were full of jealousy, some full of interest. He didn't like it but couldn't deny it either.

So he put his Archpriest's mitre on the head and walked to the Pope as formally as possible. "Your holiness."

"Hold this book, Archpriest. Sing a little hymn for the old man if you can. I'd appreciate that." Pope requested, with his face turning softer for a few seconds.

"Understood, your holiness."

Pope then turned around to face the pyre and spoke with Sylvester in a low, emotional voice. "Son, do you understand why he asked for you here?"

Sylvester seriously had no idea. "I'm afraid not."

"It's a message." The Pope continued. "He wanted to tell all that he stood behind you and supported you in the race, and that you should not be schemed against. Old man… He always planned many steps ahead."

Sylvester glanced at the pyre silently. He could see a body on it, draped in a shining golden cotton cloth. 'Why? Why did you go out of the way to do all this? I never did anything for you. Is it just because I told you I only want to live in peace? Or is it something else?'

There was too much confusion, and sadly the questions were never going to be answered now. At best, he could only appreciate the old man's help.

"In his letter, he talked a lot about various things. I'm glad I got to meet him in my lifetime. It said he was a slave once. Can I know about it?" Sylvester inquired.

The Pope's eyes seemed to glow a bit as if he was overcome with deep emotions. "Before he became a clergyman, he was kept as a locked-up slave by a noble family. He was locked alone inside a gold mine, where he'd only get food if he fulfilled the mining quota daily. They kept him because of his extreme talents, but it was against the church rule to hide and abuse such talented individuals—Especially in those warring times.

"So, coincidently, a Bishop got lost in the mines on a different mountain. But since he was strong enough, he kept digging and eventually, mistakenly, ended up in the old man's mine prison. From there, the church was notified and promptly saved the old man. But to the church's shock, the old man was already an Arch Wizard by then—Controlled through a magical slave chocker. He was mentally devastated and docile due to harsh lifelong slavery."

'It makes sense how his worldview was so down to earth despite being a Grand Wizard. Normally, people of his talent get cocky and get used to getting their way.'

"So this is why you abhor slavery?" Sylvester asked.

The Pope smelled of anger instantly and showed his clenched fist. "My disgust for slavery is unquantifiable in words, son. If I could, I would have ripped out the spines of every slave owner with my own hands."

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'Alright, change of plans. I'm freeing the slaves I will buy instantly.' Sylvester made a mental note.

"Let's proceed with the ceremony now. The sunlight is about to strike this region." The Pope moved ahead and started placing some burning material near the pyre while talking for the last time with the body of Grandpa Monk.

Sylvester, meanwhile, was trying to come up with a short but meaningful hymn that everybody could feel connected to.

"Today!" The Pope finally started speaking. "We are here to witness the Fifth Guardian's remains return to the dirt of this land that made us. But, sadly, through his long life and the eras he saw, he forgot his name, and due to that, we usually called him Grandpa Monk.

"He was a great man, an excellent guide, and above all, a true believer in faith. He wished to see the world entering a new era of peace and prosperity and the end of the long war. But, sadly, we couldn't achieve that in his time. Hence, now it lies on our shoulders, and those of the next generation, to ensure that true peace arrives—To across the world, to all lives.

"With the first ray of Solis, I now bid the last farewell to the Fifth Guardian. May his soul rest in peace and reach the arms of the lord. May he watch over us from the realm that comes after—and see us usher the world into a better, warmer, calmer chapter."

Immediately, all the men there voiced. "Amen!"

With that, the sunlight finally reached the edge of the Golden Peninsula and engulfed Grandpa Monk's pyre. It happened automatically, as some alchemical substance reactive to sunlight was placed on it.

The fire that appeared on it was also bright golden, and the light from the sun that fell from the gaps in the clouds made it appear as if the heavens were opening their door to let the old man's soul enter.

Sylvester found it to be a perfect opportunity to start singing. So he moved to the side of the pyre from where all could see him and the fire. He then held the holy book open in one hand while the other hand showed the palm towards the fire.

And when the halo appeared and his palm shined under the bright light, he seemed like a god's apostle, if not god himself.

Then soon, the charming echoes of his melodious and soothing voice erupted.

♫Risen from the land and served the light.

Nameless you were but so full of might.

You helped those who suffered in plight.

Without you, I know it won't be as bright.♫

♫To age and time, you remained unbowed.

Through the eras, you have made us proud.

Because if any, you've fulfilled all you vowed.

O' Holy Lord, in your warmth, let his soul enshroud.♫

Sylvester didn't sing for long, as that would take too much time and be awkward. So, he ended it on a short note and bowed his hand lightly.

"Amen!" The spectators again echoed together.

After that, they silently watched as the pyre burnt slowly. Many were sad, but many were wondering who'd take the Fifth Guardian's position now.

One after another, the faith had lost two Guardians, after all. If they did not do something, it would leave the church vulnerable to the enemies and, worse, to the hyenas among the peace-loving monks.

However, no one could come to say anything as the Pope remained standing unmoving. Close to him, Sylvester smelled the scents he was producing.

Seeing that, as Sylvester smelled the Pope's emotions, he was also hit by an unavoidable sadness. 'If I can't find a way, one day I will be in the Pope's place, and on the pyre will be… Mum…'

Everything born one day dies. Some early, some later. But, for a man who finally got to cherish a mother after a whole lifetime, the thought of losing her was akin to a grave crime.

'There has to be some sort of a fountain of youth or elixir. The world is far too big and magical for immortality to be unachievable. I need to rush my rise a bit more, it seems. Perhaps, it's time to start Operation Black Cat.'

[A/N: I am taking part in the Mass Release event. The first instalment will be on the 15th of this month.]

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