I Became The Pope, Now What?

Chapter 342: 341. Finding Meatshields


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The long journey was tiresome and painful too. The further north they went, the coldness increased. Even with their clothes on, they had to use magic to keep their bodies warm. Many wild animals came on their way, from mountain wolves to lions, all bigger than the last.

But, the actual threats were the creatures of the night who only came out after the sunset. From a creature called Snow-giant, which Sylvester named Yeti in mind, to Ice-shifters, a creature that could change its shape and size to the whim.

To fight the creature of the night, using light crystals was enough. That way, they could rest beside a small fire and close their eyes for a few hours one by one. After that, they'd start the journey again.

Thankfully, Baron Strongarm knew the way even at night. He had learnt the ways of the wild, and even as a Baron, he constantly went into the woods to keep his senses and teachings sharp.

So eventually, they arrived at the base of the tallest mountain in Sol, or perhaps the world, Mount Dimos, with its height of more than twenty thousand metres. It was unknown how much higher it went since no wizard or knight ever climbed higher in history. No matter the power, the lack of air was an issue for all.

Though more than the mountain, Sylvester was in awe of the Grand Fortress Storst. It was in the lap of Mount Dimos at the back and was surrounded by three smaller mountains in the front. It looked more like a city than a fortress, as he saw the brick and wooden clad walls spanned farther than his eyes could see.

"They have made it bigger, it seems." Bishop Strongarm commented. "When I left, it was half this size."

"Should we approach them directly? Will they attack us on sight?" Sylvester inquired while looking at the fort with his monocular. "It's swarming with people all over its boundary wall. They all have bows and spears."

"Let's go, but I shall remain at the front as I can speak their tongue. Let's also wave a white flag on a stick." Baron suggested.

They didn't have any other choice, so they quickly put a white flag on a stick, hid their church lockets in their armours and started walking down the dirt path between the rows of tall trees.

They waved the white flag to ensure the guards saw that first and didn't shoot their arrows. Meanwhile, Baron Strongarm stayed at the front and kept himself prepared to shout in the barbarian tongue.

Eventually, they started to approach the closed wooden gates of the great fortress. The guards had also gone into alert mode, apparent by the many bells that rang simultaneously. The spears, and the bows, all pointed at them as they waited for the strange party to reach the gates.

Soon, Baron Strongarm spoke loudly. "Jgor illaisg reatj Sylvester, Sir Dolorem, jkowal Stronarm!"

The reply came from the top of the wall, and Baron translated it. "He went to call for the leader of the Storst. Only he can verify my identity."

So they waited for a whole hour outside. They even lit a fire to keep warm and cook some rabbits they had hunted a while back.

Heck, even the guards at the top of the wall started to drool at the scent of the tasty meat. Sylvester even offered them some, but they rejected it as if it was poison.

"They will never trust you, Lord Bard. You are an enemy by default in their eyes. You are nothing but a preacher of Solis to them." Explained the Baron.

'Well, they aren't wrong about that.' Sylvester thought and continued to eat.

Boom!

But soon, the wall gates opened, and a single man walked out in strange barbarian armour. The bearded man was covered with leather armour and fur all around, and on his head was a helmet made of a wild cat.

"Strongarm! Hban anaist hebest jkh!"

Baron Strongarm hugged the barbarian man, who was even taller than the Baron, who was six foot five.

Soon, the barbarian man looked at Sylvester and the rest before greeting them. "I am Elder Chief Koruk Mi'nar. Welcome to the Grand Fort Storst, preachers of Solis. You need not fear me, for I am quite tolerant. I even trade with you folks sometimes."

Sylvester appreciated that the man was using a common tongue. It meant a lot since the man was a Diamond Knight and surely in the latter stages of his rank. For him to lower himself to speak to them was a grand gesture.

'I sense no fear or any negative emotions. He doesn't feel threatened by any of us.' Sylvester smelled the exchange of emotions.

"Thank you for meeting us, your majesty." Sylvester greeted him.

"Bwahaha! Majesty? Hear that, Strongarm! I'm a majesty now, like those fat, pompous brats sitting on thrones who eat and fuck all day!" Elder Chief Koruk laughed and sarcastically joked about the southern kings.

Baron Strongarm embarrassingly smiled and bowed his head towards Sylvester in apology. However, Sylvester didn't even care.

"Just call me Chief Koruk, like the rest of the people. Come, you must be tired from your long journey. Our gods may be different, but the fact you made the journey here safely, it's a grace from Mother Dimos herself, for nothing happens in these mountains without her will." Chief Koruk turned around and walked inside the fortress walls.

Sylvester and Sir Dolorem quickly followed behind. As soon as they entered, they were greeted by the sight of a flourishing walled city, a fortress just in the name.

The fortress was just a part of the walled city, as the giant fort sat in the middle. The rest of the area was occupied by streets and tiny houses, some made of bricks, some mud, and some thatched huts.

The people seemed to be well-dressed for the harsh winter, albeit thin. All had thick animal fur coats on themselves, and some even had gloves. The little kids looked at Sylvester and the rest with interest while staying hidden behind the adults.

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While Sylvester did the same, he noticed something strange. 'Fuck! I stick out like a sore thumb among them. There are no blonde people, as far as I can see. It's only redheads and blackheads.'

He reckoned some genetic coincidences happened among them for generations, and now there were no blondes.

'I'm the default bad guy in their eyes, I think—Or not? I smell no deep-seated hatred. At most, they are curious, and some—Lustful? Ugh, my elven blood.'

"These are my lovely folks. They are curious about you, preacher." Chief Koruk boomed. The man, even when talking usually, seemed to be shouting. A true barbarian through and through.

Sylvester picked up the pace. "How many of you are there?"

"Why? Trying to gauge how many you'll need to kill?"

Sylvester's brows twitched, and he clarified. "Chief Koruk, I preach to Solis, and my beliefs tell me that everything that walks on this earth and all that exists is because of Solis. All of you are a piece of Solis in my eyes. Of course, except those cannibal desert dwellers."

"Hah, that's my first time hearing such words from a preacher. Well, we also believe Solis is the progenitor of life. And to your last question, eighty thousand men, women and children live here in this fortress city. So we are quite thriving if I must say." The chief revealed with no reservations.

'That's a lot, but surely not the final number. I remember there being three smaller fortresses farther into the west. Their numbers should exceed two hundred thousand.' Sylvester calculated in mind.

He just looked around and walked silently behind. Baron Strongarm meanwhile revealed to the chief who Sylvester was and what an important person he was as a blessed child of Solis.

'How do I win over these people? Perhaps I should first find out why they are even trying to enter southern lands after so many years.'

Soon, Chief Koruk took them inside the giant fortress made of bricks and mud. It was the seat of the Elder Chief's power, from where he ruled over more than half of the barbarian tribes.

The man took them to his private chambers at the top floor of the giant, tall fort in one of its towers. The fort was empty inside, and the only common thing was carpet everywhere—good, high-quality furry carpets.

Finally, Chief Koruk took his seat behind an ordinary table. "So, what brings you here, Bard of Solis? Strongarm told me about your great deeds just now."

Sylvester spoke respectfully and carefully. "Chief Koruk, we are just returning from Grand Fort Borzol. A friend, akin to my brother, has been kept there locked. Not to mention, the Borzol faction is attacking the Duchy of Iceling with full might. So I hoped to learn about the Borzol faction so I could counter them better."

Silence took over for a few minutes as Chief Koruk stared at Sylvester with a somewhat angered gaze. "Why do you think I will help?"

"Because you're not them," Sylvester replied diplomatically, since he knew what the man wanted. "Baron Strongarm informed me about your faction, which does not believe in extreme violence. You wish to only live down south with the rules and laws of the land, in peace. But know this, if the Borzol faction is not stopped, they will successfully destroy the Duchy of Iceling and take the land.

"Then the Holy Inquisition will be triggered. Trust me. You don't want to face the Inquisition. An Army of over two hundred thousand will besiege you, burn you, your village and your people. If you don't pray to Solis, you're dead in their eyes.

"If the Inquisition begins against the Borzol faction, then the next number will be the Storst faction, no matter how peaceful you are. So, your best way to a peaceful life is to help me deal with the Borzol faction before it becomes a matter of the church. In return, I shall put some good words for you and your people right in the ears of the Pope, as I am Pope's closest disciple."

'Go on, take the bait! Take it! This is the olive branch of a lifetime!'

Sylvester kept a calm face, but his heart was in turmoil. He needed able bodies to fight for him, bodies that didn't belong to the Duchy or any follower of Solis. Because his main goal was to achieve something great, so the death of thousands of followers of Solis would be a failure in the eyes of all otherwise.

Chief Koruk brushed his beard calmly. But the anxiety in his heart was evident in the smell. Nevertheless, he knew this was a chance of a lifetime, and he trusted Strongarm enough not to lie about Sylvester's background.

"What do you want in return? Be precise."

'And it's a catch!'

Sylvester straightened up in the chair. "First, I hope you can tell me why you are suddenly trying to head south. Is it due to the increased cold?"

"Hah!" Chief Koruk scoffed, but soon his face turned pale. "As if the cold scares us. No, it's something far too problematic. You see, the northern coast of the Pentapeak range has most of our farms—But It's swarming with undead now! Countless in number."

Sylvester's train of thought halted in an instant.

'That undead bird! Did it come from further north? By whom? A dark wizard?'

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