I Became The Pope, Now What?

Chapter 733  732. A Forgotten Man

Sylvester didn't need to move too fast. After the recent change in his body, he was more in tune with the magical energies than a Solarium Crystal. It was as if he breathed magic itself. So, as he walked towards the main deck where all the chaos was likely happening, he used Electromagnetic Manipulation and Metal Manipulation to mend the broken airship and slow its descent to the ground. By then, Dalgan was able to manage the crowd as well, since the airship wasn't descending that fast anymore. The pilots were able to steer at the same time and bring the large vehicle to a slow descent over the treeline. "We're leaving." Sylvester gathered the four and led them away from the crowd. "We'll continue moving towards your home, Dalgan." Crack!

Making a big hole in the steel wall in one location, Sylvester walked out and stepped on the air itself using Light Steps. Behind him, the two Princes were dragged with chains. Meanwhile, the father and son followed on their own. "Why would the one following us be attacked? With such arrogance too. Empress Mother will be infuriated once she hears about this," Dalgan wondered since he wasn't able to locate the criminals. "She's known to be cruel to those who create senseless, violent chaos."

"So am I," Sylvester muttered and gained altitude. At the same time, the airship continued to descend and eventually landed above the trees, getting stuck on the forest canopy and saving everyone from the harsh drop. No explosions came, and the demonfolk jumped out of it safely. "How close is the nearest civilization from where?" Sylvester asked. "Don't worry about that. The pilot told me he had communicated with the base station as soon as the first explosion happened. The relief staff must be on its way already," Dalgan explained. Slightly humming, Sylvester still raised his palm towards the crash site and did something magical. The ground and all the trees in a hundred-meter radius around the airship started shaking. All the trees in that area began to vanish as if they were sprouting in reverse and going back into the ground itself, eventually leaving behind a huge area only covered in grass. "Surprisingly, not too different from the plants I know. Only the color pigment is different," Sylvester muttered and started walking. "The relief airship will have some space to land now. Let's start moving." …

When the masses at the crash site were confused and scared, a lone hooded woman stared at the sky, her gaze fixed on the floating figures, especially the one with blonde hair. She watched the whole magical scene of vanishing trees in silence, knowing who caused it. "There will come an imposter, bearing the looks of your own. Powers to mend nature to his will and end worlds, he will possess alone. Do not be afraid of the unknown, seek once such a sight is shown—Greet the traveler, another one in this unknown life thrown."

She muttered in a low hum from her lips as if a memorized song she knew unconsciously. Her covered gaze sparkled as if a long-lasting wish had been fulfilled. "Sadly, I can't follow. These traitors must be interrogated first." …

It was an endless walk towards the North. Sylvester, Dalgan, and Lord Two walked as if it was a stroll in the park, gazing at the beautiful landscape from such a wondrous height. But Prince Zostris and Orzoth groaned and panted like dying donkeys. "How can you two be princes of the Grand Prince? I don't remember him having such a weak body." Dalgan wasn't being very patient with them. Perhaps more excited about seeing his family.

"Spoiled in wealth," Sylvester commented. "The usual," Lord Two started. "Lucky bastards. Meanwhile, I was forced to wake up before sunrise by my Father and made to train until sunset."

"It was for your own good. Look how strong you are now." Dalgan didn't like that tone from his son. "When I was your age, I walked through kingdoms and deserts in the marching armies." "I was one year old!" Lord Two barked. "That was abuse, not training!" 'Have these two forgotten that they're my hostages?' Sylvester wondered in silence but didn't interrupt the family bonding session as he was too busy talking with the fur ball on his shoulder. 'Feel anything?' 'No, it feels like our world. Only that dark space felt like my belly… they can't see me either.' Miraj murmured sadly, snuggling beside Sylvester's neck. 'You said there might be someone like me here.'

'We haven't even seen one percent of this world, Chonky. Don't worry. If they are here, we'd know,' Sylvester consoled him. 'For now, let's focus on the plan. Keep an eye on the two Princes, lead them as I told you.'

'Aye, aye, violating them is easy!'

'...You mean Isolating, Chonky… you did an oopsie again.' Miraj, not even caring anymore, flew to the two princes to follow up on the plan. Perhaps it was no longer a policy to avoid an oopsie. With that, Sylvester focused on Dalgan. "Tell me more about your world. The geography, perhaps. Do you have other species too? Like the elves and dragons?" "Of course we do. We have dark elves, devils who are like your world's goblins, massive islands filled with undead, and even hell dragons. Of course, everything has been conquered by the Empress. Only the Grand Prince is left to oppose her. But… I don't think he'll survive for very long." Dalgan looked behind at the two princes. "I don't think they'll survive very long… or me."

"Nor will I if I can't win against those foes I told you about," Sylvester added, matching Dalgan's mental state. "You must not believe me, do you?" In total surrender of his thoughts, Dalgan sighed and shrugged. "I believe you… now I do. Only a madman would jump into a deadly enemy world for no solid reason, and you're no madman. I've lived a long life, and a few times, I've also questioned some things. The strange ruins we used to find in explorations, the various prophecies famous across the world… No history books could answer those things."

"What prophecies?"

"Who knows? They always sound like random words jumbled together. Eventually, when people started panicking that they foretold about the world's doom, the Imperial Authority decided to hide the prophecies and compile them in a safe environment." Dalgan revealed, "I was a General, but even I don't know what actually went on in the upper echelons." 'Sounds like the old religions in my world.' Sylvester silently drew parallels. 'But no matter what, this world seems to have been managed far better.' "We're close!" Lord Two interrupted them. "Father, the town looks so much bigger now!" Right there in the distance, the outlines of a cluster of buildings appeared in their view. Tall buildings, paved roads, and even some airships were rising and descending there. Sitting beside a tall mountain, the town seemed to be a common desolate place with a thriving local economy. "What's the name?" Sylvester asked. "It's called Redhill Town, known for its magnificent red cactus, a vegetable pickle loved everywhere. My family is the largest farmer of Red Cactus." They continued to walk and eventually landed on the ground outside the city. From there, they entered the gates of the walled boundary on foot, and since there was no checkpoint, they found no issue entering. "Much has changed." Dalgan stared at everything with wide eyes, cherishing the new buildings and the bustling streets. "This street used to have small homes. Now they have buildings." Sylvester silently followed them while being careful. He kept everything around them under his senses, even what was happening behind him, and under Miraj's watchful gaze—just as planned. "Father!" Lord Two shouted. "Look at the intersection, t-that's your statue!" Dalgan smiled ear to ear, showcasing his demonic fangs. "Of course, they had asked for my permission back then before we went on the mission. I'm the most famous man from this town in its entire history, after all. Let's go and greet your mother. Reren must have grown up too." So, they strolled through the busy streets and reached a somewhat better and richer neighborhood of the town. It was less crowded and had more of nature's beauty, aligning the roads with trees of colorful leaves. The vehicles moved past and looked luxurious. "Red Cactus has gotten even more popular, it seems," muttered Dalgan. "I can even smell it in the air."

"Where does this cactus grow? I saw nothing red from the sky," Sylvester questioned him.

"Inside the mountain. It only grows in darkness… Look, that's my house. The structure is the same as I left, but the paint is new." Dalgan couldn't hold himself back and ran forward with his son to the end of the street. A big, ten-foot-tall wall stood there, with twin doors made of iron. It boasted power, money, and authority with the mere presence of the overbearing entrance. Knock! Knock!

"Agerza! I'm back!" Dalgan shouted, nearly getting teary-eyed. "Mother! Reren!" Lord Two shouted as well, while Sylvester stood behind with the Princes.

Clack!

Clack! Nôv(el)B\\jnn

Sounds came, and one of the twin doors opened. "Yes?"

Dalgan stepped back and looked around as if making sure it was the right place. "Who are you?" "You knocked at my door, buddy. Who are you?"

Dalgan looked at his son's face at the side before introducing themselves. "You must be a hired servant. It's alright, years have passed. I'm General Dalgan, and this is my son, Lord Two, as was named by Supreme Commander Koznox! Where is my wif—"

Seeing the unmoving, proud expressions of the strange man standing before him, Dalgan began to think of the worst. "W-Who are you?" "I'm the man of this house, Commander Byeren." The tall, two-eyed, red-skinned Demon spoke. "If you're looking for money by being an imposter, I suggest you start digging your grave."

Clack!

The other door opened just then, and a female demoness appeared, matching some features with Lord Two. She came with smile but lost it halfway. "Who is it, Byer—Dalgan?!"

Dalgan had no words to say. Homeless and heartbroken, the man had lost everything that day. Silently, he just stepped back, looking more and more haggard.

Thud!

Without realizing, he bumped into Sylvester, only to find a patting palm on his shoulder, pitying him, reassuring him. "How many years has it been?" Sylvester asked them. "Thirty years." Byeren, half in front of the demoness, as if protecting her, spoke up. "We thought you died, General."

Sylvester sighed, having no words, since such time was enough for one to be forgotten.

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