Max had no idea what went on outside. He simply closed his eyes, awaiting the burning pain. He was as big as the giant man’s palm; what could he even do other than stay calm?
Making up some rhyming phrases, in a childish squeaky voice, he said his prayer aloud, wondering if there was a God who could hear his words from amidst that giant crowd.
I give myself to the Lord creator,
Aid me to be with my mother.
I pray to you, fallen in your embrace,
You are the God; bless me with your grace.?
In this strange land, I am a sacrificial lamb,
Wronged and hurt by these souls, my body has taken a toll.
So bless me, O’ great Lord, shroud me in your blessed garb.
Allow blood to further pump through my heart.
If you’re listening, help me, and I will forever be your bard.?
The tingling sensation on his scalp increased manifolds, prompting him to open his eyes and see if it was the effect of fire. He tried to move his head left and right, only to notice hundreds of eyes focusing on him.
THUD!—Suddenly, the man named Hans, the assistant of this Inquisitor High Lord, fell to his knees with a loud thud, his face showing an expression of fanatic ecstasy. He put both of his palms on the middle of his chest, crossing on the other. Following him, the entire inquisitor army of thousands followed, releasing the sounds of clanking metal plates and armour. They fell to their knees and crossed their palms on their chests.
Sylvester was alarmed. He was expecting to die. Now, what was this drama?
‘W-what’s happening?’
The tingling sensation behind his head increased as if something was crawling on his scalp. Not only that, he also felt a strange smell and taste, along with a pleasantly warm sensation on his tongue. It was the flavour and aroma of sweet wine.
Inquisitor High Lord kept staring at Sylvester’s tiny body, which tried to adjust itself. He yanked him a little, grabbing his attention. Sylvester stopped trying to see what was crawling behind his head and faced the masked giant man.
Nobody made a single sound, not even a random cough. It was as if the world had stood still. Then the Inquisitor High Lord burst out madly. “Bwahahaha… So this is why fate brought me to the south in this remote desert land!”
Showing utmost care, he lifted Max’s tiny body high up with both hands, and addressed the crowd, “My sons of the Inquisition, this hellish march from the Holy Land to here was not for nothing. All of you are one to bring glory to the Faith of Solis. In all his glory, he sang the hymn of the Lord none had ever heard before. This is a new Holy sermon; from now on, we shall roar. For we have found the apostle, THE GOD’S FAVOURED!”
All the soldiers went into a mad frenzy, their eyes tearing up and mouths shivering. But instead of shouting, they started thumping on their chest plates with their crossed palms, creating a deafening song of iron and adore.
Then chants began, “May the Holy light enlighten us!”
“May the Holy light enlighten us!”
“May the Holy light enlighten us!”
Sylvester alarmingly moved his head to look around. He could somewhat understand what was happening. They were praying in his name. He was just called an apostle and a God’s Favoured.
He looked back at the metal plate on the giant man’s face. Who’d have thought he could’ve laughed so heartily. ‘T-this is like a cheat code. I can use my baby charm and this new status to my advantage.’
“Gugu buba?” He tried to pat the faceplate cutely.
The Inquisitor High lord raised one arm. Immediately, all the men stopped their crazed chanting.
He addressed Xavia, who was also somewhat shocked at what was happening, “Stand up, my child. You have nothing to fear. Tell me, what have you named God’s Favoured?”
She glanced at Sylvester for a second. Her little baby gave her a bright, intelligent smile, and she replied, “He’s Sylvester Maximilian, my Lord.”
The Inquisitor High lord seemed satisfied with it. “Magnificent! A name befitting a man of this standing. A name worth remembering in the annals of history. Who dared to call God’s Favoured a demon-possessed? That sinner must be burned eternally in Hell’s purgatory.”
As soon as he turned his head to look at the villagers, some fell unconscious, and a small minority straight-up died from a heart attack. His ire was mainly directed at the so-called village chief, yet he didn’t say anything regarding that.
“Men, march formation. We are to produce God’s Favoured before the Holy Father at the earliest. Hans, bring the stagecoach.”
‘I’m being taken away!?’ Max realised. He looked at the woman who was supposed to be his mother. She silently stood close by, her eyes bawling out. She made no noise, knowing she couldn’t stop them from taking him away.
However, Max could not allow this. Only hell awaited Xavia in this village, and although he could not bring himself to actually see her as his real mother because of his old mental age and life experiences, it was still a fact she brought him to this world, and fed him her milk for a whole month.
Also, that bastard village chief was still alive. No, he couldn’t accept this outcome! So he started kicking around and fighting the Inquisitor High Lord’s hold. “Mama… Mama!” 𝗼𝘃𝗹.𝗼𝐫𝗴
He tried to fight around with his limited strength like a mad little monkey. Sure enough, the Inquisitor was not experienced at handling a child. It worried him that he might hurt this blessed one.
“Hold your son, child.” He turned to Xavia.
She rushed and caught her son with a hug in a heartbeat. Noticing this, the man had a realisation. “He may be God’s Favoured, but he’s too small to start his studies at the Academy of Dawn. What is your name?”
“Xavia, my Lord.” She answered respectfully.
“Xavia, do you want to be with your son?”
Was this something to even ask? She nodded strongly. “Yes, I want to be with Max.”
“As I said before, to harm a mother caring for her child is a sin beyond salvation. But know this, he is bound to greatness far beyond your comprehension. He is God’s Favoured, a holy apostle. His time and attention may not be focused on you when he’s older, for he is the bard of God, as spoken by his first hymn.
“But you can still see him and meet him, that is as long as you agree to join the Bright Mothers and devote yourself to the service of God and the sick. You are a healer; you shall be valued.” He offered her and told her all the good and bad aspects so as not to create impossible expectations.
Join the church as a Bright Mother. It would put her in a life of service to the church, and she could never marry or hold any lustful thoughts. Only abstinence was the proper way. Xavia had no such feelings anyway, and to be able to reside beside her son in the Holy Land was a blessing in disguise.
However, it ached her heart knowing that being a God’s Favoured would put her son through many mental and physical hardships. However, she could have the solace in assurance that she would be by his side, no matter what.
Xavia glanced at Sylvester in her arms. The boy, too, was looking at her face with his sparkling golden eyes. She kissed him on the forehead and said, “I accept, my Lord. I will become a Bright Mother.”
“Wonderful. Unit one, go with this woman and help her get the luggage. If anyone stops you, purge! One more thing, where is your husband, Mother Xavia?” Inquisitor High lord asked her, now addressing her as a Bright Mother’s designation.
“He’s no longer with us.” She replied, a saddened look visible on her face.
‘She… She’s lying.’ Sylvester felt it.
Xavia just tried to look down to hide her eyes, but Sylvester saw them, and they contracted a bit. And one more thing he felt. ‘What’s happening? Why am I tasting this weird salty and sour taste on my tongue?’
The Inquisitor High Lord took her words for truth, it seemed. “Worry not. No one can fight fate. If the Lord gives you hardships, he must have a reason. You just do good and wait, for fate is ever-changing like the five seasons. Go now. I shall care for the Blessed Child.”
Xavia nodded and carefully handed Sylvester to him. She then left for her house in the poorest area of the village. The people were all kneeling as if their life depended on it, but they had scorn in their eyes.
Sylvester was happy that she was coming along. He did not know what kind of world he was in or what this Holy Land was all about. But, his tasks were just half done. He glanced at the kneeling man, the one who assaulted Xavia. He repeated his past life’s teachings. ‘No mercy!’
He lifted his tiny hand and pointed towards Chief Deserte. “Badman! Badman! Hurt Mama! BAD MAN! AAA…”
It was his strategy to use his age. He will only use whole sentences when singing made-up hymns. This way, the charm and uniqueness will remain, and at the same time, he will use broken sentences for daily life, at least until he’s five years old.
“BAD MAN! BAD MAN!…” Like a song on repeat, he screamed.
Chief Deserte felt like digging himself into the ground right there. He angrily looked at Sylvester, and his body went cold at the sight. The little baby’s eyes were full of intelligence, and his face looked smug as if he knew what he was doing and what it implied.
“N-No… My esteemed Lord… the child is mistaken. I was merely helping Xavia and…”
Sylvester cut him off and started crying. It was super easy as a baby. It was as if his voice box was made to screech like a banshee.
“MAMA CRY! BAD MAN TOUCH!”
The Inquisitor High Lord softly put Sylvester in a better hold on his left arm so that his tiny body was tucked between it and his body. He then proceeded to Deserte, clearly having taken the words of a child over the man.
For Sylvester, everything went as planned.
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[A/N: Meet local horny Monke for just a stone. Yes, click that juicy orange button. Sigh—I wish it was yellow. Btw, gore description alert for the next chapter.]