I Became The Pope, Now What?-Chapter 647 646. A Gift To A Species

The surrender of the elven elders didn't come as a surprise. But the planning went slightly deeper than simply those theatrics. Rathagun was still lying on the ground, bleeding profusely. Part of it was acting, and part of it was a genuine beating from Sylvester.

"I do not ask you to obey and accept my faith. I do not demand that you become my servants—what I do hope for is peace and that my guidance toward a better future for all of us is followed," Sylvester tried to give the elves some reassurance with his words and walked towards the elven King's body.

"Stay away from the King! We have surrendered!" Ellitran shouted with much effort, almost growling to protect his son-in-law and student.

'Oh, I smell worry for the King. So he isn't that heartless?' Sylvester smirked inside but felt no remorse in folding the man with his spine-shattering kick.

Sylvester approached the King and knelt down beside him before gently placing his palm on the man's face, which was mostly destroyed. "Let this be my first act as the victor. In might, I am supreme, but in status, we stand with equality and understanding."

Before the eyes of the Elders, Sylvester healed Rathagun to a point where he could stand normally and look around. However, he didn't get rid of all the bruises; he left those to show everyone that a battle was involved.

Bam!

Rathagun tried to punch Sylvester as soon as his eyes opened. But Sylvester caught his arm and showed him the parchment with clear written words in the elven language and human tongue. "The Elders have already surrendered—The battle is over, Rathagun."

Rathagun's eyes widened, and he stared at the Elders, "W-Why?"

'Hah! This man… He's still keeping the act,' Sylvester worked hard to hold his chuckle. Yes, the beating was real, and he believed Rathagun deserved some for leaving Xavia alone, and the man likely believed it, too. But this was just the cherry on top.

Elder Ellitran looked down in shame, clenching his fist, "He would have killed you otherwise, Your Majesty. Alfia needs a king who is a Supreme Wizard—especially after the death of King Malisius of the dragons. With you, they will remain fearful and at bay."

"But now we must agree to the terms of Pope Sylvester! We will have to follow his word until 'he' breaks the contract!" Rathagun roared, his voice containing worry and anguish.

'I can smell the calm, excitement and a bit of joy?' Sylvester saw through the emotions. 'Perhaps enjoying the power of being an absolute king of elves for the first time?'

"Let us return to Alfia and announce the verdict of our battle with the Demon, as well as our duel," Sylvester suggested in a commanding tone.

Hearing his suggestion, the Elders seemed to go pale. All of them, even those that Sylvester considered better, showed expressions of shame shrouding their faces, as well as the scents.

"We would rather claim our own lives right now than face our people and tell them we lost so suddenly—so shamefully," Ellitran said, unable to look Rathagun in the eye, hiding behind his rage and helplessness. Accepting that the foe they had kept at bay for a thousand years was now upon them wasn't easy. And it was even harder to tell that to the people.

"The people don't need to know," Sylvester said, surprising the man. He knew that this was the time to be more political, and pushing them further would be counterproductive. "I have no desire to enslave Alfia, the elves, or any other Beastaria species. I merely want the abolishment of slavery between all species, the life, reducing injustice, and establishing order in all our lives."

He keenly watched the Elders' faces, wanting them to agree to his suggestion. As long as they agreed, he knew they'd become fully complicit in the conspiracy and would do anything he ordered to keep the truth of their surrender hidden.

"We…" Ellitran looked down in worry. "There are no such things as a reward without a price. I'm sure there are a few conditions to your suggestion."

"I want Alfia to be my advocate in Beastaria. I don't wish to bring war, but I do wish to bring order. To keep your surrender hidden, all of Beastaria must be on the same table, agreeing to the same things," Sylvester said cryptically.

"You want consensus from Deca Imperia?" Rathagun realised what he wanted. "The dragons won't agree."

Sylvester laughed and pointed towards the demolished battlefield, "Does it even matter? They will agree to our terms or become history. You merely need to forward and implement the policies that I shall bring to Alfia, which will benefit you all financially—you only need to push it onto the rest."

'But years later, you will realise the implications of my vague words.' Sylvester thought and stepped back a little. He just wanted Alfia to take the weight of the blame for his actions if there were any mishappenings due to his policies.

"You can discuss. I shall survey the swamp until and see if any dark elements still loom over this place," Sylvester said and retreated away with Bloodrain and Soulbreaker.

The spectators who had come to watch and the two they used as witnesses had already been dealt with. So once again, the scorched, dry wasteland was as empty as the Divine Desert.

The three walked around, looking to find any treasures or valuables kept by the great numbers of Bloodlings that had gathered there. They looked aimlessly but didn't even find a single speck of particle implementation of a few laws that I create for the preservation of that wasn't scorched sand.

"If there was anything, I don't think it could have survived mine and King Rathagun's attacks," Sylvester mumbled, feeling somewhat dejected even though he was likely the wealthiest man in the history of the planet right now.

"Such power…" Bloodrain mumbled when he gazed around with his senses since his eyes were forever shut. "I wonder if this place will ever see something alive again. I don't believe even plants can grow here—such tragedy."

"Actually, I do have a plan," Sylvester interjected, raising his palm towards the empty vastness. "This shall be my gift to the Merkins. Sol has had no qualms with the Merkins for as long as I can remember, as they've remained geographically isolated in their lake. So this shall be my final seal of friendship between two speci—"

Sylvester abruptly stopped talking and looked behind, "So, what have the Elders decided?"

Rathagun, having healed Elder Ellitran, came forward with a parchment in his hand, "We have decided to agree to the proposal, but there are a few conditions that you must agree to. I personally believe there should be no problems unless you don't mean what you say."

Sylvester's brows rose as he hadn't discussed it with the man before. So he took the parchment and gave it a read under his breath. 'In return for representing and implementing Pope Sylvester's desires in Beastaria, a few conditions need to be agreed. Firstly, Alfia can reject a command that poses an existential threat to the elves. Second, Alfia will not be forced to show subservience to the Pope in public and retain its honour as a proud and powerful kingdom of elves.'

Sylvester stared at his father with a suspecting gaze, 'So the King finally decided to come out now?'

"I would like to agree to the second condition, but the first appears too vague. Who decides what is an existential threat? From what I can see, you might reject my economic policies, calling it a threat to Alfia's finances and, in turn, a threat to your species," he pointed out. "The better wording is 'Alfia can reject a specific command to put itself in mortal danger through warfare.' and I'm ready to agree to that."

The elders scowled or sneered hearing that command since they wanted to give themselves some room to oppose Sylvester.

"Must I remind you that I'm the victor, and if I so desire, I can openly declare your kingdom as my reward to be plundered? Do not take my kindness for granted, as even I can be angered if you push too far. Accept the terms, or you can try explaining to your people why you surrendered to the Pope," Sylvester bellowed a little louder, slightly threatening them.

"Agreed!" Ellitran barked furiously.

Rathagun allowed Sylvester to change the wording on the parchment, and after that, they both signed it. With that, the official and secretive pact was in effect.

"Your first task is to end slavery and remove hatred in your society towards Sol, humans, the faith of Solis and all other species—of course, not the Goblins, for they are going to be extinct in Beastaria in the coming weeks."

"That's what I wanted to hear!" Ex-general Zelphar roared in delight. "They deserve to be extinct—filthy waste on these benign lands."

'So the hatred towards Goblins is common across all species,' Sylvester almost chuckled and made Light Steps to walk up to exit the massive crater that used to be the swamp.

"Let us return then," he ordered.

The eight remaining Elders and Rathagun followed and climbed out of the steeply sloped walls of the crater. It took them a few minutes to trek it fully in their condition. But when they reached the top, they found Sylvester's hand raised towards the vast, empty crater.

They were too afraid to say anything, as Sylvester's eyes seemed shining in a golden hue, lost in deep thought about something profound.

'Zama'tar… How do I enter the demon world? I should try to find more Demons and interrogate them. If they're attempting to contact me… they should respond.'

At last, he began speaking again, but in hymns.

?Merkins of the gentle lake.

May it be resolved with this gift?

Boom!

A surging, magical and powerful torrent of water came out of his palms, combined with a cat's purr. It exploded where it landed below the crater's steep slopes and filled it entirely.

Since the water of Merkin's Lake and Divider Swamp used to be one, and their origin was the sea, Sylvester combined the two habitats into one. In a few minutes, he enlarged the lake for Merkins by double the size and enriched the soil with the minerals of the sea.

Behind his head, the halo remained shining. He knew the Merkins were watching him, having been lured by the sudden detoxification of their lake. However, they remained hidden from the unknown destructive surge of magic from the father and son duel.

?Watch this rising, beautiful tide.

The bright future takes a stride.

Remember, I was here when you cried.

In-kind—I rest the case for my side.?

And so there was another lake—a species full of hope and a divine blessing of the Pope.

A moment never to be forgotten—when the man in gold appeared from across the sea for the downtrodden.

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