"W-What? Wait, I was talking about letting others cook your recipe and sell it." Felix corrected himself while the rest stared at Sylvester.
Sylvester clarified himself quickly. "Yes, I am thinking about buying so land outside the Holy Land and building a big house, with the ground floor being the shop. But I won't run it, and I don't trust any traders. So, I'm going to buy a slave and train them."
"But... A slave? That would tarnish your na, Max." Gabriel warned him.
Owning slaves was not a bad thing for most people. But among the ranks of the Clergyn, it was generally frowned upon since many of the clergy co from humble beginnings. Hence, many of them were anti-slavery.
Sylvester was also anti-slavery, but he understood well that he held no authority to do anything about it. Though he knew his ti would co when he'd stand on so important stage and announce the abolition. But until then, he was a part of the system.
"Of course, I know that. I only need the slave to learn how to cook a few items for and run the shop. I will sign a year-long contract with them in the lord's na, and once the year passes, I will free them and give them a lump sum of money to start a new life."
That surely sweetened the deal for many. In a way, Sylvester was freeing a slave already. After all, getting to cook sothing like that was anything but a boon because once the slave goes away, they can beco a cook too--As a free person.
Not to ntion, Sylvester hoped to earn these slaves' trust so they may keep working for him even after being freed. For this, he had already planned a special indoctrination sche to ensure they saw him as nothing less than a god.
Felix rubbed his chin and thought about sothing. "What if the slave steals your recipe?"
Sylvester shrugged. "I don't care. The place I'm thinking about opening my shop will ensure that my business never goes down. Anyway, stop talking and start eating, or it will get cold."
Sylvester had to stop them as he had to feed a little chunky boy, too, who was desperately pulling his robes from underneath the table. Miraj also wanted to try this new thing, after all.
However, Sylvester didn't know if giving a cat the pizza was good. But he didn't mind as Miraj had eaten worse. So he sneakily passed a small slice to the best boy in the world.
But at the sa ti, sothing was going on in his mind regarding Miraj. 'I should introduce Miraj to mum as my guardian angel and have her make an oath of secrecy with the clause that if she reveals, the guardian will disappear, leaving in danger. That way, at least mum and Miraj will have each other to ss around in the house.'
"owr!"
Sylvester made a big fake yawn, making it seem like the sound had co from him. "I'm sleepy now."
"..."
"That's one ssed up yawn you got there," Felix muttered. "Be sure not to do that in a crowded place. There are... a few ssed up individuals who get turned on by that."
In response, everyone glared at Felix with doubt, and Sylvester asked. "Why do you know that?"
"..."
"That... I like to read."
Sylvester sighed and returned to eating. "Sotis... I wonder why you're even my friend."
"Likewise," Gabriel added.
Felix looked at Xavia. "Mother Xavia, you believe , right? I only like won--pretty noble ladies, with big... I an, I shall marry one soday."
Lady Aurora finally spoke, though it shattered Felix. "I don't know, Felix. Your taste in won is so... Choosy. There has to be sothing extraordinary you're looking for in them."
Even Sir Dolorem didn't let the opportunity go. "Sotis, when the mind gets too excited, the truth cos out uninvited."
"Oh, dear." Xavia caressed Felix's head as the boy ca to her side. "Don't worry. It's alright to be different sotis."
"..."
"Oh, co on!"
"Pfft..." Isabella burst into laughter, unable to hold herself. Of course, they were all joking.
Just like that, amidst the tasty dinner and laughter, Sylvester and his friends finally had so soothing ntal peace after months of life-threatening work. They cherished these monts, for they never knew what may co next, leaving them perplexed.
...
The night went fairly well. Xavia didn't have any wounds left, so all her problems were related to mobility. Thankfully, Isabella decided to sleep beside Xavia in the sa room, as the latter might need so help.
Sylvester was grateful for it. But he didn't want that to beco a permanent occurrence. So he decided to imdiately ask for a bigger house to keep a hired help as well. After all, Isabella had to do her studies as well.
But Sylvester had to wake up early that morning, even before the sun shone its warmth on the lands. It was ti to go to Grandpa Monk's funeral. It was supposed to be held when the first light falls on the pyre.
"When will you be back, dear?" Xavia asked when he ca to inform her.
"I don't have any major duties anymore, so I will be back as soon as I'm done there. Isabella, Gabriel and Felix will co to help you. Tell them if you need anything."
"Understood."
Sylvester then closed the door behind him and left the building. Many Bright Mothers were also awake and preparing to go and work. Clearly, they worked just as hard as any other clergyman, but sadly, they don't get as much open recognition. But at least they had the respect and utmost security.
Greeting any Bright Mother that ca his way, he silently got on the horse and rode to the Administrative building. But, once he arrived there, he found a small crowd of a few important people. Mostly it was the Cardinals and the Guardians, and he was the only Archpriest.
"You're here." Lady Aurora ca to him quickly.
"What's happening? Why is everyone outside?" Sylvester inquired.
Lady Aurora pointed to the left, where a long line of carriages was visible. "We're all going to the Golden Peninsula. The pyre is set there."
Sylvester was amazed since the Golden Peninsula was the most restricted, guarded and holiest place in the Holy Land. After all, it contained the Magna Sanctum Temple.
"I guess nobody can say no if the Pope wants it." He muttered and saw the Cardinals get into the carriages one by one.
"Let guess. I won't get a carriage?" Sylvester wondered.
"No, actually, you ride with Saint Wazir and in his carriage. He said he had a few things to hand over. Co, his carriage is at the front."
Sylvester fell into thoughts, wondering what it could be that the old man had left behind. He never thought that Grandpa Monk felt this highly of him and thought that he only liked him due to the company he provided.
He remained silent and soon arrived in front of a well-ornated stagecoach. It was big, pulled by four horses. Heck, even the reinsman was a Bishop ranked man.
Knock Knock!
The door opened, and Saint Wazir invited them in. The man seed very serious at the mont and nervous as he rubbed his long white beard again and again while sotis caressing the cut mark on his right brow.
"Archpriest, you're on ti. Here are the two things the Fifth Guardian left in your na." Saint Wazir handed Sylvester two folded and sealed parchnts without any sweet talking.
Sylvester looked at them. They appeared slightly old, as so dust had settled on the wax seal. 'Did he write the letters a long ti ago?'
"Can I?"
"Of course, go ahead. The Holy Father wants you to read it before you arrive there. He wants you to partake in the ceremony alongside him." Saint Wazir advised.
'What? Why? I don't think I was that close to Grandpa Monk.'
Still, he didn't waste ti unfolding the parchnt and started reading it silently.
'Yes, I wrote this three months ago. I know, you'd think about it because you're too bright. But, unfortunately, by the ti you read this, I'm either dead or on the deathbed. So, son, I have nothing to tell you, teach you, or unique to give you. I'm far too old, too late to have t you.
'But, after my initial life as a slave, I've learned to read people pretty well and control my emotions. When I first t you, I could easily see there was sothing different about you in a good way. It was not the halo or the hymns. That's just the cherry on top.
'What I saw were your eyes. They hold wisdom that none of your age should possess. Your wit and achievents are sothing everyone would covet. But, after eting you many tis and learning about your desires and will, I know you don't want the power to rule. I know you don't want to beco the Pope--You only want peace.
'That is why I know you will beco the Pope one day. Yes, it's bizarre to see how often the people who loathe power beco powerful. But, usually, they also tend to be the greatest rulers of their ti. The sa was the case with the first Pope, and the sa was the case with many others.
'Son, when you beco the Pope, I only have one piece of advice. Treat the people, the faithful, like family. Because rember, for one who has nothing, the church is their everything. Every other person out there has a sad story, so be their reason for not choosing the destructive path--Be their father figure who guides them, holding their hand through the darkness.
'Also, I hope you beco that figure for one old boy imdiately--My son--Axel. We may not be related by blood, but we share a bond stronger than blood. I'm sure he's devastated right now. I'm sure his mind is empty. So, please be the shining light that brings him out of his insanity--Don't let him brood in sadness, as that's the first step of losing one's humanity.
'Of course, I don't ask you this for free. In the other parchnt, you may find the recipe for my life's greatest achievent--The Sunshine Nectar. Bwahaha... I heard you were going to use it on King Riveria--Good going, son. Drink it, sell it, and keep it however you want. I wouldn't mind.
'With this, I say my final goodbye. May the holy light keep you, your family and your friends strong. May the holy light guide you to the throne where you belong.
'--Grandpa Monk, an old man who forgot his na.'
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