I Became The Pope, Now What?

Chapter 716 715. Bond… James Bond

716 715. Bond… James Bond

Sylvester silently watched and tried to make sense of what was even happening there. He couldn't see anyone moving around and setting the fire, nor was there anyone tying people to the pyres.

'How long were these people tied here before being set on fire?' He wondered and maintained caution while going down. He dared not step foot on the cursed land and maintained the light tiles. 'This Soul Tree… it's not dying, yet it feels different. The energy coming from it isn't just solarium.'

Seeing that there wasn't much left to be saved under the massive Soul Tree, Sylvester decided to do the investigation under disguise first, instead of revealing himself as the Pope. Just in case there was a high-ranking Demon like Zama'tar, things could get ugly very fast.

Quickly, he jumped towards the sky and left the area. He moved towards the North, where the Northod Kingdom resided, and its massive capital, North City, was established. Unlike the rest of the kingdoms across the world, the Central Continent was somewhat unique.

A majority of each kingdom's population in the Central Continent was cramped in the capital cities. If any towns and villages existed outside, they were all called trade outposts that overlooked the mining and other rigid industries.

This gave the rulers of the four kingdoms a firm hold over their population. But it also meant that in case of a plague, the entire Kingdom's existence came in danger. Just like the plague some years ago, if not for Sylvester's cure, the Central Continent would have turned into a graveyard.

After a few minutes of traveling in the sky, he soon landed on the outskirts of the North City. The place reminded him of how old and dirty the cities of East Sol used to look some years ago. Narrow roads, wet mud all over the streets, with horseshit stench everywhere. People in dirty clothes and a generally gloomy and colorless life.

'A true medieval experience,' he muttered and quickly threw some dirt on his clothes and beard to blend in with the unhygienic environment.

Thankfully, the language of Central Continent and East Sol was the same, so other than managing the accent, Sylvester found no trouble making his way through the city. The population seemed dense, and the number of soldiers patrolling the streets was also not that scarce.

'Such depressing scent from the city.' He noticed the melancholy in the air and tried to look around for a sketchy tavern, the best place to gain some knowledge.

Silently, he surveyed the surroundings. With an abundance of magic within him, he could notice who was drunk and who wasn't and then followed those who were drunk. The sense of hearing also increased as he walked between the crowd, listening to everything.

"Did you find your son?"

"No, still missing."

"My neighbor's mother is also missing. So many kidnappings these days."

"Must be the animals from the Sand Continent."

Sylvester mused over the exchange. 'Kidnappings? Could they be the fuel to the fire under the tree?'

Soon, he followed a few men into a shady tavern with too much noise. Once he walked in, he felt overwhelmed by the stench already, and it wasn't just limited to the smell of alcohol. There was the stench of feces, vomits, and sweat. But surprisingly, a piano was being played at one side of the room—something he had invented.

'So my inventions have reached beyond the boundaries of Sol already?'

Ultimately, he chose to go to the bar counter and sit there, as all the other tables were occupied. He kept his ears open and heard almost everything in the entire building.

"What d'you want?"

Sylvester looked at the middle-aged bartender with teeth ugly enough to make one lose appetite. "Orange juice and a glass of milk."

"We sell only alcohol here, buddy. The nursery is on the other street," the bartender grunted.

In his old man disguise, Sylvester didn't have to worry about being found out. So, to gather some attention from the wrong crowd, he fumbled in his pocket and took out a Gold Grace before tossing it at the man. "Now?"

"Hehe." The bartender nastily grinned. "A big man? Should have said that before, boss. Juice, milk, whores, all you want—I got it! Orange juice and a glass of milk coming up."

'Good, they're all looking at me.' Sylvester noticed all the gazes on his back when he took out a gold coin.

"Never seen you here before, my friend."

'Here comes the hyenas.'

Sylvester smiled at the man sitting beside him with a questionably dressed woman wrapped against his chest as she giggled at his touches. "First time in Central Continent. I'm just a simple merchant from Riveria."

'More eyes? Good, let's see what they'll do.'

"Riveria? I heard it's the richest of all kingdoms up there. Is that true?" The woman playing with the man asked, her makeup so smudged that it was hard to tell if she was even a woman.

"There are no kingdoms in Sol anymore. The Pope dissolved the monarchy and brought in an administration run by the Holy Land, and the qualified, educated administrators. Riveria is now divided into two states, but yes, it is still the richest region," Sylvester revealed, making sure they believed he was from up north.

"Here you go." The bartender gave him the drinks just then. "So, what brought a big man like you here?"

"Trade, of course."

'Such a reaction from the mention of trade. Must be related to trafficking humans,' Sylvester deduced and slowly began to understand how deeply rotten the Central Continent had become. From what he remembered, the four kingdoms had been at war since before the last Pope even ascended to his seat.

"Will you be making more trips down here? If you are, then I know a few friends who would love to order a few things from Sol," the bartender offered. "Name's Merrifield, by the way. A small member of the Northod Trade Federation."

'I smell malice—sweet!'

"I wasn't going to, but if there's good money to be made, who would say no? Bring me to your friends, Merrifield. I'll be staying in an inn until then," Sylvester agreed, downed the entire glass of orange juice, and picked up the milk glass to take along.

"Which inn are you staying at? And I still don't know your name," Merrifield asked, hunching forward towards Sylvester. "If you still haven't found an inn, I know one with the best service. It's called Four Leaves, not too far from here. Expensive, but worth it."

Sylvester smiled and flipped a silver coin at him. "Much obliged, and name's Bond… James Bond."

'Haha, I can't believe I'm being this childish. Am I growing too old and senile?' Sylvester laughed internally and left the tavern. But on the way, he made sure to appear as if he had stumbled on his feet. 'The juice was drugged… should act like it, at least.'

He walked the dirty streets again towards the inn that was suggested to him. On the way, a few beggar kids approached him, asking for change. So he poured the glass of milk into their begging bowls. Of course, the toxin was removed from it first.

'Central Continent seems to be in dire need of a good old Inquisition like the old days.' He muttered and reached the three-story tall inn, which looked more like a whorehouse as neatly dressed, beautiful women stood in its balconies and at the entrance. Rarely anyone entered, but whenever they did, the women welcomed them. 'Felix would have loved this place… if he wasn't married.'

"Welcome to Four Leaves!"

"Greetings, Sire."

Sylvester ignored the women and went to the counter, where another beauty stood, and this one had particularly revealing clothes. 'The scent of greed is so strong here.'

"Give me your best room." Like always, he flipped a gold coin at her with a toothy grin. The goal was to gain all the attention possible, after all. Even from the royal palace, if possible.

In no time, he was given the keys, and three women escorted him all the way to the top floor. The room was massive enough to be called an apartment with its own dining area and bedroom, and the bathroom with a massive wooden tub was a new sight to him.

"Sire, would you like us to fill the tub?"

"We can wash you well."

"And tuck you in bed."

Sylvester sighed and shoved them out of the door before slamming it shut, loud enough that the frame shook. 'Wenches… I can't betray Solis at this point.'

Interested in seeing what Merrifield had planned for him, he quickly jumped into bed and acted like he was falling unconscious. As for Miraj, he was already snoring after bearing all those nasty scents under the Soul Tree.

Hours passed slowly, and Sylvester didn't move an inch from where he had fallen on the bed. Night fell outside, and once the streets started to seem empty, he finally noticed muffled footsteps coming into the room.

"Shh… Don't make noise."

"Put the cloth on his face."

Sylvester helped them lift him up. Otherwise, not even a thousand of them would have been able to. Intrigued, he controlled his breath, letting them believe their potion had worked on him.

"What the hell, Tommy, be fucking gentle. Don't throw him!"

"He's a dead man anyway. Why bother?"

"Lord Two decides that, not us. Just drive the cart now."

Sylvester heard it all silently and made a mental map of all the turns they made in the streets. With Elder Magic and Solarium Mapping, he knew exactly what was around him.

'We crossed a stream of water? Then this must be somewhere close to the Royal Palace. And who is Lord Two, such a strange name.'

Clack!

Finally, the carriage came to a halt after an hour, and the door opened. The men picked up his body once again and seemingly placed him on a chair before tying his arms and legs with metal chains.

'Seems like a large warehouse.' Sylvester could see everything without even looking. 'Let's wait for Lord Two.'

"Where is Merrifield?"

"He's coming with Lord Two… here they come! Quickly, kneel!"

Sylvester widened his senses and heard two horses entering the area and stopping very close to him. It was hard to determine what the two people looked like with just his senses, but he could feel one was Merrifield, and the other almost seven-foot-tall man was Lord Two.

"Wake him up."

"Understood, my lord."

'Such a muffled voice.' Sylvester was intrigued by this new man. 'Oh? What's this? The solarium particles are resisting against him.'

Woosh!

Just then, a splash of water came and drenched Sylvester cold. With a jolt, he acted like he was just waking up and looking around in confusion and fright.

"W-Where am I? Where is th—"

Sylvester swallowed his words back as soon as he looked at Lord Two.

'H-How is this possible? A fully formed Demon? A lord?'

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