I Became The Pope, Now What?

687 686. The Miracle Of Flesh

The Masan Kingdom, the Kingdom carved out of the Masan Empire, was initially left for Prince Jinn to inherit and rule, but as the Prince decided to follow the Pope, a man named Okaris was handed the reins of the Kingdom. Under him, the Kingdom saw prosperity as he followed the Pope's guidelines to the teeth. Focus on trade and development was utmost, and corruption was at its lowest. 

But, previously devastated by the Masan Empire's Civil War, the Masan Kingdom still lacked a significant army. Okaris believed they didn't need one, but as a threat now stood at the border, he realized how wrong he was. 

"Your Majesty, it's all up to you now," the Chief Knight of the Kingdom addressed King Okaris at the war council. It was a rather desperate situation as the time given by Leyon The Conqueror for surrender was running out. The fortnight was about to pass. Only a day was left until the mad tyrant launched a complete siege. 

King Okaris wasn't a young and strong-bodied man. He was thin and more of a diplomat than a warrior. Silently, he stared at the table with the map of West Sol. Only long signs left his mouth every few moments. "The army we have been able to gather in such short notice is as good as farmers swinging sickles before trained knights with longswords. Fighting the mad tyrant is impossible."

"Then…"

Okaris stepped away from the table and looked out of the window of the room. The capital, the Riverlap City, was bustling with activity, and he could hear the noises. "I don't want to use the scorched earth tactic either. I'm not that power-hungry, nor can I see these people suffer just so I can be the King." 

"Your Majesty, you can't," the Chief Knight pleaded, predicting his idea.

"I will surrender," Okaris firmly declared. "I shall head to the southern border and surrender to Leyon the Conqueror. Whether he lets me live or kills me—let fate decide."

"We can ask the Holy Land for help. His Holiness made you King, Your Majesty." 

"We can't. This is not a matter that concerns the Church. He already graced us by defeating the tyranny of the Empire. Now, these matters are for us to solve ourselves," Okaris replied, hopeful of the future. "Everything happens for a reason. I'm sure His Holiness knows of Leyon. I'm confident he will mediate if Leyon does something too horrific—something he's yet to." 

"He's conquering kingdoms!" The Chief Knight almost shouted. "What can be worse?" 

"Genocide, pillaging, destruction. But until now, Leyon never attacked civilians or the Church members. He has won through pure military strategy and might, and that is something we all must acknowledge. Do not worry too much, Sir Barley. Go home and rest, wait and watch before joining your duties again… under a new ruler." Okair patted his Chief Knight's shoulder and left the meeting room. Hoping to reach the southern border by midnight.

####

Work had become simpler for Saint Seer, Cardinal Lazark, the favorite necromancer of the Holy Land. Ever since Project Skyeye reached its final phase, spying on the realm became easier, especially on all the Clergymen spread everywhere. Catching corrupt Clergymen had never been easier.

The moment someone commits a crime, the complex custom spider undead in the secure room creates an entry with its baby spiders, and everything gets documented. Only a handful of people knew about the existence of such surveillance equipment. For most, Saint Seer was just working too hard. 

But now, Project Skyeye needs to be expanded. It was essential to infiltrate the noble houses, especially the offices and courts of the noblemen. Only then could Lazark feel comfortable.

But, what he didn't expect was to catch a much bigger fish. Or it was better to call it a school of fish perhaps, since the crime went very wide, spanning the kingdom, Clergymen, nobles, and numerous traders. 

"So much work just to sell crack," Sylvester mumbled while reading the detailed report. "They created their own code language to communicate. But it's so easy to decrypt. I could have done it in my sleep." 

"I-It took me a week, Your Holiness," Lazark embarrassingly revealed. 

Sylvester chuckled awkwardly. "Of course. That's because you're not me. In any case, this confirms that the mastermind is someone extremely intelligent and cunning. Our previous conclusion that a merchant in Libertia is responsible was wrong. Place most of your focus on finding the culprit now, and don't leave the Holy Land from your investigation." 

"You suspect someone from here?" 

"No, but you never know. In my life, I've been backstabbed by the Holy Land more times than any outsider." Sylvester recalled how many times the previous Saint Seer tried to ruin him. 

Lazark stood up and saluted with his orders received. "I'll begin the investigation right away, Your Holiness." 

Sylvester saluted back and waited until the man left the office room. Then, he opened the largest drawer of his table and took out a small stove, a frying pan, and a few bottles of ingredients. 

"Ah, Maxy gonna eat the yucky meat again?" Miraj scowled as soon as he heard the clanks of utensils. It had become an hourly ritual for them at this point, and Miraj hated it. 

"Many a little makes a mickle, Chonky. Did you forget the size of that creature? I'm afraid I can't eat it even if I live for a thousand years. I have to find a better way while using this conventional means of eating," Sylvester said as he cooked a big block of dark black-ish purple meat. It smelled nasty, but the scents were diluted since he added some garlic. As usual, he used the recipe with honey. 

Miraj jumped away from Sylvester's desk and sat down on a showpiece near the wall. It was the bust statue of Pope Atrox. "I feel like vomiting again."

"Me too." Sylvester almost felt tears in his eyes as soon as he took a bite. 

It wasn't easy, but he consistently made it his schedule to eat as much Nehilius as possible. He didn't even know what to expect since he felt no changes occurring in his body. Was it supposed to make him stronger? He didn't know. 

Crunch!

"Hmm?!" Sylvester was abruptly alerted and stood up after eating the last bite. "I think I feel something… It's hard to describe. It's like I always had this…" 

"What?" Miraj flew back to Sylvester's shoulder and began to sniff around his body. 

Sylvester continuously looked left and right as if trying to feel something. In the end, he went to the window and jumped out, taking to the sky with Light Tiles. He kept walking in the sky until he reached the port of the Holy Land. He looked down at the various steam-powered trains running around from warehouse to warehouse, a short experiment that had been too successful. 

But what he actually found interesting was how well he could see it all. After all, he stood almost ten kilometers above in the sky, almost touching the stratosphere. 

"This is so… new. I can see the written tags on the various small crates being unloaded from the ship. I can even see the detailed strands of the mustaches on sailors… faintly hear them as well," Sylvester exclaimed in shock to himself. "I… I don't feel the urge to eat, drink, sleep, or excrete anymore… I think I can survive for a few weeks without air as well." 

Miraj flew around Sylvester's body in amazement. "Nehilius' meat is magical."

"It might just be," Sylvester liked to entertain that idea. "Let's return and eat some more. I want to use Elder Magic and finely evaluate what happens once it enters my body." 

Woosh!

Like a meteor, he allowed his body to fall down towards the Pope's Palace. It was an exciting feeling, no matter how many times he tried it. The surge of power and the guarantee that nothing would happen even if he didn't stop himself was exciting. 

However, he didn't want to destroy the Holy Land. So, at the final moment, he used Air Elemental for reverse thrust and landed smoothly in the garden, before jumping back into his office. But this time, he locked his door before cooking the meat. 

"You eat a bite too," Sylvester extended the fork towards the chubby furball. 

"Aye, aye." Miraj was excited to see if he could get stronger too, so he took the bite and sat back. 

Sylvester followed soon and closed his eyes once he gulped down the bite. Quickly, he used Elder Magic and made his senses overly sensitive to solarium, especially what was in his body. He was able to look at himself on the most minute scale, at the highest precision and magnification. He watched the piece of meat slowly break down into tiny particles. 

However, unlike regular food that left a lot of waste, Nehilius' meat vanished entirely over time, turning into tiny particles that were definitely not solarium. It was so strange as they seemed to turn intangible and pass through the walls of his intestine, stomach, and veins. The particles slowly spread around everywhere evenly. 

But the real magic happened afterward when he carefully observed just a tiny patch of his arteries, the size of a millimeter. 

'It vanished… As if absorbed by my flesh.' He noticed, 'Oh, the walls of my artery got sturdier… No, everything got sturdier. But the size is the same, and only the density increased.' 

Quickly, he opened his eyes, filled his mouth with many bites of the meat, and observed it again. This time, he focused on the optic nerve. And as expected, as soon as the intangible particles vanished into the nerve, it got stronger. But it wasn't just limited to the nerve, every single thing got sturdier—muscles, veins, plasma, blood cells, and yes, the little white snakes as well. He checked it. 

Finally, satisfied with his findings, he stopped using Elder Magic and opened his eyes to look around. He looked at the side of his table, and there Miraj lay on his belly, having thrown up the piece of meat he had eaten. 

"Makes sense since I'm the successor of his inheritance," he reckoned and patted Miraj. "I think I know why he wants me to eat his flesh." 

"To vomit?" Miraj murmured weakly. 

"To help me become what I must, to defeat those we cannot even comprehend," Sylvester muttered with the realization, feeling all the repulsion to the unsavory flesh vanishing away. "This is the beginning of an end."

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