I Became The Pope, Now What?-Chapter 315: 315. A Place Called Home

A week was enough for Sylvester to try out a few things. The best thing about training with the Pope was that he could go all out. No matter how powerful or destructive, the Pope had nothing to fear against him.

In doing so, Sylvester wished to compare his level. Before, he was just a little Archwizard, unable to exert himself fully due to the injury. Now, he was a level three Archwizard, and the difference was supposed to be stark.

Boom!

"Good one, son. But you are still too wide open for me." The Pope appeared beside Sylvester and slapped his shoulder. "Your move was very destructive but also very slow. Both the Wrath of Heavens and the Hellfire Purge are great attacks, but they can easily be neutered with enough speed. And the fact that you can not use them repeatedly leaves your chances of survival to luck. In this one minute of the spar, I found three hundred openings to land a killing blow and three thousand two hundred and six openings to land a permanently crippling move."

"Then what should I do?" Sylvester asked, as coming up with another signature move that fast was impossible.

"That's a tough question. Even tougher because you have an affinity to all elements but the darkness. That makes you eligible for learning all sorts of attacks. Perhaps, you can copy this move of mine and turn it into a Light Magic version."

The Pope stepped back and picked up a spear from the weapon's rack. "Watch me. This is a combination of knightly and wizard magic. It's the best form of martial arts anyone can use in a fight, be in close proximity or a ranged fight."

Woosh!

The Pope swung his left arm, and instantly, a long arc of fire appeared from the tip of the spear.

Boom!

Then, he punched with his free hand, and a gust of fire came out from his fist. Similarly, he did acrobatics at such a breakneck speed that Sylvester only saw afterimages of arms and feet throwing fire all around. It was like a well-choreographed dance of death being performed by the Pope.

Soon, the fire changed into blades of air and then into sharp blades made of water.

'He's imbuing elemental magic in his fast martial art movements. But this is useless for a fight of wizards.' Sylvester muttered to himself.

"You must think this is useless against a wizard, right?" The Pope seemed to have read his mind. "Now watch this!"

Boom!

Woosh!

As the Pope swung the spear this time, a difference in the attack became apparent. It wasn't simple elemental magic now, but a complex mixture of elements. Fire and Earth magic combined, and a physical ball of burning dirt flew and slammed into the wall at the arena's edge.

But that wasn't all. The Pope again moved around doing acrobatics; each time his leg or arms swung, a ranged attack came out. The thing to note was that it was all diverse, and it was swift.

'This is... Good? If any normal wizard were to fight him, the Pope would have an absolute advantage.'

"Keep an eye on me, son!" The Pope's voice resounded.

The ground started to shake this time. The Pope seemed to be moving normally, however. But Sylvester could sense that something was coming.

Boom!

"What!" Sylvester jumped up as a big, tall, sharp spike of stone erupted from the ground. It was at least three metres tall.

Boom!

Then, multiple spikes came out all around Sylvester. So he quickly used light steps and walked a few metres in the air to protect himself.

Boom!

This time, the entire arena, except where the Pope stood, got covered in long, sharp spikes of stone. But that wasn't all.

Woosh!

Each spike caught fire, and between each spike appeared boiling water.

"See this, young Bard? If there had been an army around me, all of them would have died. If I were fighting a wizard, he would've been so preoccupied with avoiding my regular bombardment of attacks that he would've never found a chance to jump.

"And, even if he had jumped, I would have done this."

Sh....!

The steam that came out of the boiling water turned solid all of a sudden—Solid balls of ice, to be precise, and they had small spikes all around.

"I could use these to mark my enemy with wounds. This is one of the ways you can fight, and it works even if you're against multiple opponents. But the only downside is that this style requires monstrous solarium reserves. Hence normal wizard-knights don't even try. But you, I believe you can do it." The Pope sounded resolute and confident about Sylvester.

He then waved his hand briefly, and a giant rune appeared on the entire arena ground.

Bam!

All the destruction the Pope had caused to the field vanished, and everything returned to how it was. This was why it was called Pope's personal arena. It was full of enchantments and runes to help one train.

But Sylvester wasn't much bothered by that magic. He only thought about the Pope's suggestion. 'I do have great solarium reserves. But this still has a downside.'

"But this is useless for a Wizard who has not mastered the elements or isn't good at casting magic fast. Not to mention, if their affinity with an element isn't strong, then the attack will only brush past the enemy." Sylvester argued as he returned to the ground.

"But you are not a weak wizard, are you? You know spells, runes, incantations, and above all, you have good control over elements. So, you should try to use that Wrath of Heaven's plasma beam of Light and embed it into your fighting moves. Remember, the trick is not to give the enemy a chance.

"Even I have some kingdom-destroying abilities. They take hours to prepare—Imagine if I were to remain dormant and open for attacks in that time." The Pope advised Sylvester wholeheartedly.

Sylvester smelled no double meanings or lies. On top of that, he realised something. 'This is right. I need to learn how to cast the Wrath of Heavens and the Hellfire Purge while moving around. After all, the common thing is that I must be singing a hymn—That still leaves at least one hand free.'

"Thank you for the advice, mentor. I will definitely look into this ability." Sylvester bowed his head in respect as it was time to leave.

The Pope patted Sylvester's shoulder and cheered him on. "You're alright, son. I am going hard on you in this training because I believe if you train with me, you will be immensely stronger when you become a Supreme Wizard one day. Perhaps avoid the mistakes I committed.

"Now, go on. I wish you good luck with the assignment. Deal with that vile bloodling and return fast. Your training has only begun."

Sylvester went to the side and wore the robes again. "Thank you for teaching me, mentor. May the Holy Light enlighten us."

The Pope saw him leave. His eyes were full of pride at his student, and hope for a better future was apparent. 'I should have done this years ago. O' Lord, I'm sometimes so dense. May your holy Light enlighten me.'

...

A week was a long time, and Chonky was not a boy who would ever back down from a challenge. And now, he had decided to challenge himself.

'I must do this! If I want to protect my Maxy and Big mum, I must get stronger.' So he told himself again and again.

"What are you doing?"

"Maxy, don't speak to me. I am busy exercising!" Miraj shouted and continued to exercise.

He was resting on the bed and his back, doing crunches to strengthen his belly. He did about a dozen repetitions and then started to do push-ups. Of course, he was copying Sylvester.

"One"

"Two"

Sylvester stood there with folded arms, staring at the cat. It was bizarre and also cute to see Miraj doing all that. "How will you ever know that you got muscles? You're too fluffy."

Thud!

Miraj fell on his belly and looked at Sylvester. "Oh, Nyo! I didn't think about that. Should I shave?"

"But then your fat belly will be exposed."

"..."

Sylvester laughed and picked him up. "Let's go, Chonky. If you really want to train, then the best thing to do is run. You're a cat, so jump around and exhaust yourself. Your real power won't come from copying me. But, if you want, I will later make an obstacle course for you to train on."

"Really? I will cherish it!" Miraj bloomed instantly and jumped onto Sylvester's shoulder to sit.

Sylvester picked up his luggage and headed out. He gave Xavia a hug and provided all the instructions to Bright Mother trainee Anya Moller.

"Don't worry. I will be back in a week. I'm not going too far, just near the Broken Bay." He informed her as he left.

Xavia didn't like it whenever her son left the Holy Land. It always filled her heart with anxiety and uncertainty, thinking this could very well be the last time she'd see him, as all knew the world they lived in was very unforgiving. But she also knew Sylvester had some duties he could never run away from.

"Be careful, dear. Eat healthily, and don't put yourself in unnecessary danger." She waved at him until he climbed down the stairs.

'You must live longer than me, Max. Or I'm afraid I'd lose my only reason to live.'

...

Sylvester didn't need a carriage on this trip. He just took his loyal, horny stallion, Frost, and rode to the Inquisitor's camp. From there, he took Sir Dolorem along.

Sir Dolorem was, in a theoretical sense, not blind anymore. He had become so good at manoeuvring around using his other senses that he was even better at fighting now. He was now able to sense things that he would otherwise ignore. Still, he had his limitations. Such as an attack coming from the sky.

But Sylvester kept Sir Dolorem along as he wished to test the latter's limitations. Moreover, he was hoping to one day give him the eyes of Duke Daemon, that was if he and Healer Hendrix could study it successfully.

"Good morning, Sir Dolorem." He greeted the man.

Sir Dolorem was as loyal and overzealous as ever. "As long as you are well, I shall be too, Lord Bard."

"Hah, good. Let's move on, then. Augustus must be waiting for us at the Bard's." Sylvester trotted the horse away. Surprisingly, Sir Dolorem moved his horse easily behind him.

'What a brilliant and hard-working man.' He mumbled and moved on.

Eventually, they arrived outside the Holy Land, just to the left of the entrance. There, on Sylvester's plot of land, now stood a structure. A week was enough for the architects to use magic and finish it.

It was nothing too revolutionary and blended well with the current era's architecture. Just a simple three-storey building with a stone base, brick walls and various wood pillars as main structures. It looked great with the greenery all around it and the constant soothing breeze.

"All that's left now is the interior. Hopefully, when we return, we can use it." He muttered proudly. This was, after all, one of his dreams from the day he was born in this world.

'Finally... A place of my own—A home.'

[A/N: See it here.]

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