Chapter 685 684. Heresy In The North  

Sylvester didn't think the world would become all butterflies and rainbows after taking over as Pope. He didn't have any delusions that crimes wouldn't happen—most heinous crimes wouldn't happen. It was human nature to fall into madness, especially when a large group was involved, as the sense of individual responsibility becomes diluted.

As he made his way to the north with his sounds bursting dashes in the sky, his mind was only occupied with thoughts of the people who had suffered the injustice. Sylvester didn't care about two knights or wizards killing each other. But when common people, just trying to live their normal lives earnestly, get harmed for no reason but existing—it boils his blood.

Boom!

The resounding sound of the sound barrier being pierced through echoed throughout the sky of Northern Gracia. In no time, Sylvester arrived at the sky-high peaks of the Pentapeak Mountain Range. The name of the company was also Pentapeak Mining Company, the biggest one in the entire region. It was also run by a group of wealthy merchants who had stayed on the right side of history over the past few years.

But clearly, they didn't learn the lessons.

Knowing the place where the ex-barbarians had set their camp, Sylvester chose to land at the same spot and judge the situation. However, even from the sky, he noticed the camp that lay in ruins. A few large tents had been burned, and a few others were still standing erect. There were also a few bonfires that he noticed, but they were surrounded by armed men from the south, not ex-barbarians.

Thud!

He landed right in the middle of the dilapidated camp. It was mostly covered with snow, but he could hear all sorts of noises. He used Elder Magic in abundance and allowed the solarium in the air to speak to him through his senses. He felt the tiniest vibrations, the voices. The low grunts of men in a few tents, the faint sniffling voices of women, the crackling of wood burning, the coughs and curses, the slaps and cries for help.

Fury burned through his thoughts. Sylvester knew he was too late; the signs told him days had passed since the pillaging began.

'No matter the world, crimes are all the same,' he told himself.

He raised his spear a foot up and then slammed it back down on the ground. The sound and the intense shockwave spread all around, alarming every being in the camp. All the soldiers rushed to pick up their weapons and find the source of the noise.

In no time, hundreds of footsteps came, followed by armored men with spears or swords surrounding him. They all looked utterly filthy, most with unkempt beards, hideous teeth, dirty clothes, and skin so dry it was questionable if they even felt anything.

"I will not kill you," Sylvester said in a low voice since talking to them was pointless. "However, I will make you regret being alive."

"Who are you?" One of the wise men asked.

Sylvester sighed and didn't even feel like responding, "You will have plenty of time to guess."

Boom!

A surge of invisible energy originating from Sylvester spread in all directions. The entire region was in his Supreme Void already, covering all minds and bodies. He saw everything: all the victims in various large tents, the dug holes with dead bodies piled together, now covered with snow.

The absolute control over the elements allowed him to reign over all the bodies. Thin, invisible blades of air elemental flew around the men and cut away all their clothes. The cuts were harsh as they also made incisions on the skins of all the men.

"Aaargh!"

"Stop!"

"We work for…"

Sylvester moved on to the next part of his elaborate punishment. With absolute control over Earth Elemental, he first turned the ground into a swamp, and once all the men were knee-deep in it, he froze the land again and turned it into solid rock.

Bam!

"Aaaaaa…"

"Fuck!" Moving on, he used his control over nature thanks to being an elf. Since a few trees were near the camp, he made their roots grow and come out from below every single man there. The roots dug into the bodies of the men from various parts—knees, backbone, neck, and palms. By the end, each one of them stood there naked with their arms forcefully spread wide like scarecrows.

And with that, he finished the preparation. He stopped using the Supreme Void and allowed the cold air of nature that he had stopped until now to hit their naked, wounded bodies. Other than their heads, they couldn't move a thing.

"Feel the pain and the fear. Feel the slow death as hopelessness creeps further and near. For your crimes, many more shall suffer. Every single man who knew and turned a blind eye, every man who abused the innocents—There are many left to be cursed. You are merely the first," Sylvester spoke menacingly, his voice devoid of any kindness. "But, I will give you all a quick death if you answer my queries."

After that, Sylvester didn't speak and silently waited. He knew they would break soon enough as the freezing weather only turned worse as the night was creeping closer. It was impossible to stay alive in the cold north without clothes and fire, and they knew it.

"Please… ask!" Someone shouted in desperation.

Sylvester didn't even bother looking. "Whose idea was it to attack these camps? How many more did you attack? What did you do to the people?"

"Lord H-H-Helmond!" A man cried out a name.

But then another completed the answer, albeit while gritting his teeth. "He's t-the… the overseer o-oh-of the north for the Evergold Merchant Group!"

Sylvester remembered all that and moved to the next question. "How many more camps? Why? What did you do to the people?"

Answers started to come randomly at that point since the desperation for release from that torture increased.

"All camps."

"They needed slaves to keep profits high."

"Men work at mines…"

"W-Women warm beds…"

"Children d-do… both…death… if too young."

Sylvester felt his fist clenching harder. He saw this as his failure since allowing privateers to mine in the Pentapeak mountain range was his decision. He hoped to extract resources and enrich the lands, but his oversight was too severe. He placed too much faith in the idea.

"Where can I find this Lord Helmond?" He questioned.

"Base of Mount Dimos…"

That was enough for Sylvester. He decided to focus on the survivors in the camp and make things right for them. So he left the men as they were and turned away.

"No!"

"You promised!"

Sylvester shrugged, remaining stoic to their misery. "Just like you did to your humanity—I lied."

…

Four more camps, each as sad as the one before. Sylvester found all the survivors and made them a warm resthouse. Then, he went to Mount Dimos, the largest of them all. At its base was the biggest mining camp of the Pentapeak Mining Company.

It was a massive mining town, almost housing twenty-thousand miners. The living conditions there were worse than the poorest village in the Blackhart Kingdom. The people looked unhygienic. In the name of housing, there were just tents and shacks. However, he found no slaves, understandably, as they all lived in the mines only.

Boom!

Once again, Sylvester landed at the camp. But he didn't cause large-scale destruction there, as many of the miners were no better than slaves. However, his eyes did notice the armored men.

'I'm tired of repeating this again and again.' Sylvester walked towards the most prominent building in the town. A large three-story mansion with fencing around it and the presence of guards. It was also painted beautifully, and the chimney spewing steam was proof it was well-heated inside. "Halt!"

"Tell your Lord that the Pope is here."

"Haha, the Po—"

Bam!

Sylvester gently tapped the guard standing on the right side of the gate. It was a simple touch from his fingertip, and the man was turned into shredded meat, even bones turned into tiny pieces.

With that, he looked to the guard on the left. "Do as I say. If you speak, you will die."

Sylvester tried his best not to look down on people. To not let the power get to his head and keep his humanity alive. But he couldn't bring himself to treat them like humans in cases like this. It scared him that he didn't even feel anything while killing them.

The guard on the left ran right into the mansion, screaming like a madman.

"He spoke," Sylvester muttered and chose to follow in. Nobody stopped him anymore, and he made his way to the main office of Lord Helmond.

The mansion was utterly lavish. Every inch of any showpiece in there was gilded with shining gold. Chandeliers were shining with light crystals. The servants were well-dressed, and the marble flooring so polished he could see his own face.

But then he looked at Lord Helmond, standing behind his desk, terrified.

"Fat, as I expected. Middle-aged, as I expected. Ugly, perhaps subjective. A dead man walking, that's a face." Sylvester stepped closer, "By the authority of Pope Sylvester Maximilian, I hold you accountable for atrocities against mankind. As the supreme judge, I sentence you to die—but not now."

"N-no! You are not the Pope! I have Pope's permission to mine here," Helmond shouted, his saliva falling out. His belly throbbed whenever his triple-chinned face attempted to shout. His blonde hair was so short that he was practically bald.

Sylvester gave no heed, grabbed Lord Helmond by his collar, and dragged him out. He was fat, but it was nothing for him.

"Your trial will be held at the Holy Land, in front of every other member of your merchant group and any other significant merchant of Sol," Sylvester announced and prepared to leap into the sky and head back with the pig in his grasp. "Rejoice. You shall soon be feeding on what you love the most—gold, precious gems, and crystals."

"M-Mercy!" Cried Lord Helmond while being dragged through the sky.

Sylvester nodded firmly, "Indeed—Heresy. That's what you've committed."

…

Two days later, newspapers fell from the skies like usual. However, they had become a commodity now, and small shops sold them after receiving a bunch from the sky delivery of the undead birds. The little shops had turned into quite the gathering spot for people as they discussed the various events reported in the paper.

This time, the first page had a large image of a kneeling fat man in the Holy Court. His mouth was bloated, and large bags of precious minerals were around him.

"Heresy In the Mountains! Slavery & pillaging uncovered by the Pope! Sinners brought to justice!" A man who could read spoke loudly for others to hear. "Lord Helmond of the…"

They were all commoners but different from the past. They actively discussed matters that happened a kingdom away from them because now they had access to information.

"Old man Gozira, you knew this Lord Helmond, no?"

Kobo Gozira, a bear Beastkin man, sat with humans and other Beastkins in a village at the eastern shore of Highland Kingdom. Being someone who had met Sylvester personally in the past, he was very famous. "No, but I've heard about the company. They are very rich."

"Read more, please," an old human man requested, being too old to study reading.

Kobo shrugged and turned the page. But just then, a single page got loose from the newspaper binding and fell down. It was a massive page with a face on it, "Wanted, the reward is a thousand Gold Graces?"

"Reward? Show me! What does it say?" The old human man almost jumped from his seat.

Kobo read the name, "Cruella Lampart."

"Wait!" The old man snatched the poster. "I-Isn't this our village healer?"

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