A few months ago.
Sylvester had gone to find Sir Dolorem to ask what he should do with the annoying Bishop Norman.
Despite being offered help, he wished to resolve the matter himself. So he first tried to understand why a mentor in the school could blatantly show favoritism.
“There are a few reasons, Master Maximilian,” said Sir Dolorem. “He is a Bishop, and if he’s connected to the Riveria royal family, then that means he has the whole might of the Riveria Kingdom backing him.
“Riveria is the continent’s breadbasket, so they enjoy special protection from the church. But they misuse that protection to send their spies and lackeys into the Holy Land. It’s a game of chess, as we also know all kingdoms have their spies around.
“But this Bishop Norman Spring is being very open about it, which means he has some support inside the church, most likely from some higher up. So even if the Inquisitor High Lord or the Pope would like to stomp them dead, they can’t because that might start a chain reaction. A Bishop is a high-ranking clergyman, after all. So we can’t just remove them. Even the Pope needs a strong cause to go after them, or it would cause panic in the ranks.”
Sylvester understood everything. He had seen such a scheme play out many times. “So let’s say if the church found a plausible reason to deal with him… let’s say Bishop Norman attacked me, would the church react?”
“Of course, you are a favored one. Even if they don’t believe it, you have the highest talent in decades. The church will protect you if you are threatened physically.”
Sylvester sinisterly smiled. “Is that so? I appreciate your help, Sir Dolorem. But I believe I can handle this…however, I may need your help with something else. I want you to teach me something.”
“Anything you wish, Master Maximillian.” Sir Dolorem dutifully saluted.
“Great, I just need you to teach me how to safely break my arm.”
“What?!”
…
Present,
“Where is Sylvester? We’ve already finished our lunch.” Felix looked around and wondered. All other Deacons from their class were also present, remembering their friends who had fallen.
Marcus finished eating an apple and looked at the tall school building. “I hope he’s fine. That Bishop used to give me strange vibes.”
“W-What do you mean strange?” Gabriel asked.
Marcus frowned, “I’m not very sure, but when I lived in the Monastery, the Archpriest there warned me not to be alone with clergy members that creeped me out.”
“Should we go and find him?” Felix suggested.
“How are we go-”
Crash!—Just then, the sound of glass shattering suddenly resounded. All Deacons looked up quickly at the school building, only to find Sylvester falling down, while Bishop Norman stood at the window, watching with a frown.
“Aaaaaa… heeelp…!”
“Meeeeooow…!”
“Sylvester?!” Felix instinctively jumped into action and ran towards Sylvester. A second later, most other Deacons did the same.
But they could not reach him in time to save him. After all, that was the opposite of Sylvester’s plan.
Thud!
Everyone crowded him as his body fell to the hard ground. Some blood came out of the mouth, and the right hand appeared to be twisted in a way it appeared broken. But Sylvester was still up, groaning in pain. But a few seconds later, his eyes closed.
“Holy Solis, that bastard threw him out of his office.” Felix cursed and tried to pick up Sylvester quickly. Being a warrior all his life, he was strong enough.
“Quick! Call the Archpriest!” He shouted and rushed into the building, towards the healer’s room.
In a matter of minutes, Sylvester was put on a bed, a healer was healing his bone, and some medicinal potions were being put on his head.
The Archpriest soon arrived with the Headmaster, as he was busy talking about Sylvester’s examination when the words reached him. He looked pale as if someone had taken out his heart. “What happened? How did he fall from there?”
“It was Bishop Norman!” Felix blurted with no fear. Being the son of a Count, he never lacked the courage to speak to people of high ranks.
“Bishop Norman? How did Deacon Sylvester get there?” He asked back.
“Using my one-time token.” Headmaster Cardinal Geralt spoke. “This matter is not an internal matter anymore… I will have to call the Marshals.”
“I didn’t do it! He jumped on his own!” Bishop Norman rushed in fast. Finally, the smug look on his face was gone, now changed with fear.
The Headmaster shook his head. “As I said, this matter is beyond the school administration now. The Administration of faith shall investigate it now. An attempt on the life of another clergy, a God’s Favored of highest talent at that, is a grave crime. Therefore, Bishop Norman, I am obliged to put you in the dungeon cells until the Marshals arrive to transport you.”
“W-What?! B-But I didn’t do anything! It’s all this little devil’s evil plan! Ask him. He will tell you!” Bishop Norman pointed at Sylvester desperately.
“Ah… M-Mum!” Suddenly, Sylvester’s pain-filled groaning voice echoed, making everyone’s hearts feel glum.
“Don’t make this harder for yourself, Bishop,” the Headmaster warned.
“T-this b…” Bishop Normal clenched his teeth, pulled away his rank plate, and handed it to the Headmaster. “Before you take me, let me send a missive.”
“That can be arranged.” the Headmaster agreed.
“We must let Deacon Sylvester rest and inform his mother… and the aide.” Archpriest Edmund suggested, but he was scared of Sylvester’s aide, as that would mean the Lord Inquisitor would know about this.
Headmaster nodded. “I’ll leave that to you then. The rest of you, Deacons, return to your dorms. I may call some of you to give a statement about this incident later. Be truthful when that happens. Let Deacon Sylvester rest now.”
“Can we stay?” Felix asked.
The Headmaster agreed in an instant. “You may.”
Slowly, everyone left the healer’s room. The healer, too, went to his little cabin after putting the potion on Sylvester.
“Why did he scream like a cat?” Gabriel asked all of a sudden.
Felix smartly responded. “Danger reflex. Everyone has a different way of coping. Some scream, some wet their pants, and some… meow, apparently?”
Marcus nodded with a sigh. “I would rather meow than wet my pants.”
“Ah! Look, his eyes are twitching! Do you think he can listen to us?” Gabriel noticed Sylvester’s brows. .
‘Yes! I can, you numbskulls.’
Sylvester was not unconscious at all. He heard everything earlier and called for his mother knowingly, as it would create sympathy. But after hearing the rubbish the three were making about him, he’d have preferred if they had left.
“Let’s try it then. Oye, little Max, wake up, you piss-eyed lad.” Felix yelled.
“Piss-eyed?” Marcus stared at Felix in confusion.
“I’m from Sandwall. It’s desert there. All of us there piss golden water due to lack of it.”
“Ugh… it makes sense.” Gabriel bobbed.
Sylvester, meanwhile, held his laugh now. The three were as silly as boys their age could be, as he had expected. ‘I should just sleep. We’ll see what happens to the Bishop later.’
…
It was not all good for Bishop Norman. Not in his worst dream, he thought Sylvester’s actions would open Pandora’s box, leading to the greatest harm inflicted on his beloved Riveria Kingdom.
“Why did you give Deacon Sylvester questions that no one can answer?”
“Why did you fail him despite him performing all the physical runes you requested?”
“What is your relationship with Deacon Romel?”
“Why did you try to kill Deacon Sylvester?”
One after another, five different, mean-looking Marshals interrogated him, who were upper middle-ranking officers of the Holy Army. The location was a dark dungeon where the light source was just a little single light crystal.
A distance away, in the darkness, more people of unknown ranks were standing, watching everything.
“I did not try to kill him!” Bishop Norman cried as he felt humiliated, tied to a chair with no clothes on his body.
“Then why did you try to fail him purposefully?”
“I-I… I wished for him to fail only, not hurt him.” Bishop Norman had no other way but to accept his wishes against Sylvester, as the examination sheets were enough evidence. However, he was not going to say anything else, as he had people looking out for him as they spoke.
“Why? Why did you want to fail him? Isn’t he the top performer?”
“Answer me!”
“If you do not speak, you shall rot here forever, away from the warmth of Solis, growing weak by day. If you suffer Solarium exhaustion at this age, forget ever advancing in magic.”
All kinds of pressure tactics were being used. However, after the initial panic, none worked as Bishop Norman kept staring at nothingness. He determined they would not get anything else from him, nor could they harm him.
“That’s enough! I shall take over.”
All of a sudden, an old muffled voice reverberated. The voice alone was enough to instill fear in Bishop Norman’s heart as he knew who it belonged to. Soon he saw an abnormally tall man, in red robes and a face hidden under a visor, walking up to him and dismissing the marshals.
“As the General of the Holy Military, I will investigate you, Norman. You are no longer a bishop but a mere suspected heathen.” Inquisitor High Lord’s eyes shone under the visor.
Norman could not ever utter a word directly. “Y-You can’t do anything to me.”
“Do not be so confident about your friends, Norman. They lack the authority to undermine me… or the Holy Father, who has been greatly offended by your actions.” Inquisitor High Lord threatened.
“W-Why i-is the Holy Father interested in this matter?” Norman asked because as far as he knew, Sylvester was a nobody, a simple child who played on the Pope’s lap a few times.”
Scoffing, the Inquisitor High Lord spoke in discontent. “Foolish heathen! You were not there to witness the miracles of the bard when he was merely a month old. You were not there when he fought a Bloodling alone. Your actions have made the Holy Father bemoan.
“You stayed foolish to what was before you, chasing a dream already in view. His holiness shall show you no mercy, but I can. Your handler, Archbishop Simon from Saint Wazir’s office, has confessed his sins of working for someone other than the faith. And he has named you as his accomplice. So know this, the sins you have committed against the bard will only make your trial harder.”
What the Lord Inquisitor said scared Norman. Archbishop Simon told him that the Holy Father only knew Sylvester but never revealed the extent of influence of his miracles. All Deacons in Favored One’s class had performed miracles or had extraordinary talent, so he did not consider Sylvester something too special.
Clearly, he was wrong, as it appeared the whole church was obsessed with that one boy.
“W-What must I do to save my neck?” he asked. His will was already broken, as he knew no one could save him if the Pope was angered.
Inquisitor High Lord flicked his hand and released Norman from the handcuffs. Then he handed him a piece of blank parchment. “Write the names of all the spies you know, friendly or enemy. Archbishop Simon confessed to working at the behest of the Riveria Royal family, so do not lie.”
Norman nodded. “I-I will… but please trust me. I did not try to kill Deacon Sylvester. I only wished to fail him so King Riveria’s son could have a better chance to come out as the final God’s Favored.”
“You were foolish to think merely passing a few exams will make him God’s Favored. One must show miracles, worship, and wisdom first; something Deacon Romel does not have while Deacon Sylvester has in abundance. Think not, Norman, you now know the truth— just embrace.”
Norman nodded and started writing names, locations, and ranks while slowly, some drops of tears fell from his eyes. He realized he was also a little expendable pawn. His rank of Bishop may have been very high but was too low for his king or the Pope.
Regret… was all he could afford.
“Archbishop Lennard… Sand City.”
“Cardinal Moonwalk… Holy Land.”
“Archpriest Remy… River City.”
One by one, he wrote thirty-five names and handed the parchment back. “This is all I know. Please allow me to repent.”
“You did well, Norman. When Deacon Sylvester wakes up, according to his testimony, you shall face your sins. But, for being a spy, I shall show leniency and urge the Holy Father to do the same.”
“T-Thank you!”
Inquisitor High Lord got up and left the dungeon room. As he stepped outside, he saluted the old bearded man. “Your holiness, we have the names.”
“Very well, as we have dealt with Queen Gracia and weakened her kingdom, it’s time to put Riveria back in its place. As I announced before, I want peace and stability in my lands, and I will do anything for that.
“Apprehend all these spies, Lord Inquisitor. Their actions have caused the faith, the church, and the land a great scourge. It’s time they face the consequence, the last answer—purge!”
[A/N: Ho-ho… So the fate of Bishop Norman is in Sylvester’s hands. Can you guess what he will do?]
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