I'm really a serious wizard.

Chapter 149 My Pope Father 4K (Two Chapters Combined)

He sounds like quite a troublesome person.
The Stardust Order is inherently opposed to the Holy See, which means that the matter cannot be resolved through normal means.

Besides, Ron didn't want to resolve things normally.

In a good story, the unjust should receive the ending they deserve.

Seeing the blond boy deep in thought, Ashton leaned close to his ear and whispered:

“Recently, I heard that Silas wants to go further and replace one of the three white bishops who are staying in the capital.”

“Gab Coster and Saint Lillian were deeply trusted by the Pope, so his target could only be the last white bishop.”

"His name is Lancelot, an old fellow from the same era as Cyrus VII..."

You know a lot...

Ron gave Ashton a suspicious look.

“Mr. Ashton, this information does not seem to be something that a dismissed deacon of the Tribunal should know.”

Upon hearing this, the middle-aged man was stunned for a moment, then chuckled twice and said:
"Although I was removed from the courtroom, I still have my own circle."

He didn't elaborate, skipping over the topic and shifting the conversation to another point.

"In short, the courtroom is full of factions, and many important positions are passed down from generation to generation, making it extremely difficult to get someone out of there."

"Moreover, although Silas is a beast, he is indeed exceptionally capable; otherwise, he could not have risen through the ranks so quickly."

"As for the big shot your friend offended, it must be someone who is at least related to him. Ordinary people are not qualified to order his underlings around. Your friend is in big trouble."

Upon hearing this, Ron remained silent for a while, then curiously turned his head to ask.

"Mr. Ashton, what do you think Silas's dream is in his life?"

He had never had direct contact with Silas, and given Silas's personality, he probably wouldn't easily meet with him if he wanted to.

In this situation, not knowing Grand Inquisitor Silas's dream was causing Ron some great anxiety.

dream?

What does he mean?
As a series of thoughts flashed through his mind, Ashton found himself struggling to keep up with Ron's train of thought.

However, after thinking for a moment, he said without hiding anything:
"Silas's dream is probably to become the Pope, then he could really do whatever he wants and trample on the rules without any restrictions..."

To be the Pope... that's a truly grand dream.

Upon hearing this, Ron's face lit up with joy, and he had a brilliant idea in mind. So, under Ashton's bewildered gaze, he nodded emphatically.

“Thanks for your help!”

The young man didn't linger; after learning what he wanted, he darted out of the private room.

-

The courthouse is located north of the capital, facing the Stardust Monument's Gothic architecture across most of the city.

The former's overall architectural style resembles a sharp sword pointing to the sky, as if it intends to divide the entire capital city and the Mage Association in two.
Or perhaps it signifies the supreme status of the court, where anyone can be judged.

This is the Vatican's private property; the houses built near the courthouse mostly belong to clergy and their families.

In the Grand Inquisitor's lounge on the top floor of the courtroom, Silas Doon swallowed the last piece of delicate dessert and wiped his mouth with a gold-trimmed handkerchief.

He was a middle-aged man in his forties, broad-shouldered and with a double chin.

His cheeks were so full of fat that his eyes looked small, but the shrewdness that shone through them was not to be underestimated.

The high judge, with his long, gray hair combed back, looked at his trusted subordinate and tapped the table in displeasure.

"Mambo, are you saying you failed?"

"I spent a whole day meeting with His Holiness the Pope, and you come back with this bad news?"

His voice was deep and powerful, and his questioning carried the oppressive air of someone in a superior position, causing the arrogant Deacon Mambo to shrink back.

"Lord Silas, that couple hired a mage from who-knows-where who can summon fourth-tier heroic spirits. I fought him for hundreds of rounds, but I was no match for him."

At this point, Deacon Mambo said with a mournful face, "Lord Silas, you must avenge your subordinate! That unknown mage even made me crawl on the ground and bark like a dog."

"This isn't about making me bark like a dog; it's clearly implying that I'm a lackey and you're a dog!"

boom--

"Shut up!"

Silas slammed his broad hand on the table, but his expression softened slightly when he saw that Deacon Mambo had lost a hand on his right arm.

Then, he tapped his fingers rhythmically on the table, as if he were calculating something.

After a long while, the Grand Judge finally let out a slow breath.

"Do you know exactly what the Pope and I discussed when we met?" Silas asked his subordinate.

"Yes, is it an order to crack down on heretics?"

Deacon Mambo probed with a counter-question.

"Fool!" the Grand Inquisitor scoffed.

"His Holiness the Pope said that the Feast of Eternal Day will be in a month, and this year he will personally preside over the communication with the Lord."

"Therefore, heretics must be caught, and the commotion must be big, so that my credit will be greater."

"However, the selection of the Platinum Bishop is in a month, so the arrests can't be too big a fuss, lest the people of the diocese have a problem with me. Do you understand what I mean?"

what?
The leader's orders were so bizarre that Deacon Mambo was left speechless.

The so-called arrest of heretics—those who know, know.

Every time the Vatican conducts a similar arrest operation, several more wrongful convictions are always discovered.

This situation became even more common after Silas took over.

If they refuse to confess, they will be tortured into confessing; if they are truly tough, their family members will be used as leverage.

Taking advantage of this opportunity, they extorted money, seized other people's property and wives and daughters in countless ways, causing the income of the court's deacons to skyrocket.

Sometimes, Deacon Mambo even felt like he was a beast, a completely wicked person.

But in reality, once the credit is reported and the Pope approves, everyone receives a reward from the Vatican, and their strength is elevated to a new level.

Of course, that was the way it used to be, but things are different now.

How can one gain both "merit" and public support?

Deacon Mambo's mind raced. He remembered the student who had offended Lord Silas a few days ago, and with a cold laugh, he came up with an idea.

"Sir, we can set up suggestion boxes and distribute questionnaires so that those heretics can rate the court."

"No, no, no, we should not only let the heretics score us, but also let their families score us!"

Rate it?

Silas was taken aback, and said with some dissatisfaction, "Wouldn't we all get low scores this way? If we're faking it, the Vatican will definitely be able to detect it."

If public support declines, the white-robed archbishop will be out of the picture.

Upon hearing this, Deacon Mambo immediately smiled and explained, "Lord Silas, you misunderstood me. We can use a sacred contract to ensure that every form is filled out by the people themselves, which can serve as strong evidence for your election campaign."

"However, to ensure the fairness of the event, each suggestion box is strictly guarded by our staff, and the names and appearances of those who submit suggestions are strictly recorded."

"The questionnaires also required our people to visit people's homes one by one, have them fill them out in person, and take photos to keep them."

"As for those heretics and their families, it's even simpler; they only have one path: to confess their sins."

"Such a fair and rigorous procedure eliminates all possibility of fraud."

“Lord Silas, think about it. If those heretics and their families leave evidence to prove you are right, how far away is the White Archbishop?”

Upon hearing this, Silas's eyes widened, revealing a glint of cunning.

He immediately understood what his loyal subordinate meant and began to consider whether this plan, which was only a rough idea, could succeed.

After a while, a smile appeared on Silas's fat face.

"Deacon Mambo, you are truly my lucky charm!"

"I'm leaving this matter to you. Once I become the Archbishop of the White Robes, I can give you a helping hand."

Upon hearing this, Deacon Mambo was overjoyed, a smile he could barely contain spreading across his face. He carefully said:
“Then, Bishop Silas, I shall take my leave for now. How about we begin our first questionnaire with that student who argued with you a couple of days ago and his family?”

Upon hearing this, the chief judge smiled and said:

"Alright, I'd completely forgotten about it. Arrest that magic academy student."

"Sir, he has been taken to the interrogation room by my subordinates."

So fast?
Upon hearing this answer, the chief judge had no intention of blaming his subordinates for arbitrarily arresting people. He simply gave a light "hmm" and inquired:
"Very good, what's that heretic's name?"

"Sir, his name is Wilson."

"Hmph, Wilson is such an evil name. There are bound to be other heretics around one heretic. The mage who wounded you is likely one as well, including his parents, relatives, and neighbors!"

"The court cannot allow these cultists to disrupt order."

At this point, Silas paused for a moment, temporarily suppressing the urge to make an immediate arrest, and said in a deep voice:

"Assign people to handle the questionnaires first, and then deal with them."

"Yes, I am resigning."

Deacon Mambo bowed and was about to leave the lounge.

But just then, he suddenly heard his boss say:

"Wait a minute, I'll go with you."

Strictly speaking, this matter involved exploiting a loophole in the Papacy, but the interests behind it were so great that Silas didn't trust his subordinates to handle it.

The thought that he would be the only one to receive overwhelming praise in the election and thus have his status elevated made him unable to contain his excitement.

-

"Lord Silas, greetings."

"Ah."

On the way to the interrogation room, one court member after another bowed in salute, demonstrating the majesty of the chief judge.

Apart from the white-robed archbishop who nominally heads the court, no one here can outdo Silas.

For most people, the position of Grand Inquisitor is already unattainable, but Silas is clearly very dissatisfied with it.

He noticed that the judges, deacons, and recorders who had just passed by were all looking at him strangely.

They all seemed guilty about something, their eyes darting away, unable to look him in the eye.

"Deacon Mambo, go and see what's going on?"

"Yes, Lord Silas."

Faced with his superior's request, Mambo naturally wouldn't refuse. He quickly took a few steps to find his subordinate and asked for details.

Within minutes, Deacon Mambo, holding a copy of the West Ring Morning Post, approached Silas with a very complicated expression.

To be honest, he hesitated, unsure whether he should congratulate his superior or vehemently denounce the contents of the newspaper at this moment.

Upon seeing this, Silas snatched the newspaper and immediately noticed the large words occupying the front page headline.

My Pope Father – based on the true story of Grand Inquisitor Silas Dohan.

The chief judge's vision went black for a moment, then he quickly scanned the essay, which was over a thousand words long.

Its content vividly tells the story of a young man named Silas.
It is the story of how he worked hard to gain merit and, with the help of Cyrus VII, rose from deacon to chief judge in just one year.

Of course, there's nothing wrong with the content here, but the legendary experience of rising several times in just one year, along with the eye-catching title, always makes people think of things.

"Who! Who wrote this!?"

"Arrest them right now! Arrest them!"

At that moment, the chief judge almost stopped breathing. If the short essay were allowed to continue spreading, he could hardly imagine what would happen next.

The Vatican is not just the Inquisition, and even the Inquisition is not entirely under his control.

Even if the Pope can save him, what about the people who read his essay, and what about the upcoming election of the white-robed archbishops?
At that point, let alone conducting surveys, he will likely only be remembered by most people as someone who got promoted through connections.

His image will collapse, and the influence of the Vatican will plummet; these are all accusations he will have to accept.

mean!

vicious!

What a beast! ! !
Whoever did this, don't let me catch them!

Silas roared in anger and tore the newspaper to shreds.

To be honest, although the content in the newspaper had been heavily edited, the general information was still accurate.
Silas often wondered whether he was the Pope's illegitimate son.

According to dogma, the crimes he committed were too numerous to count, and even being skinned alive would not be an exaggeration.

But for some reason, the Pope always managed to smooth things over for him, and even attributed all the credit to him, thus enabling him to be promoted quickly.

At first, Silas was worried and fearful, and even prayed to the gods for forgiveness.

But as his status rose step by step and his power expanded little by little, greed and desire took over his mind, causing Silas to sink deeper and deeper into the mire of sin.

“Mambo, send men to blockade the printing plant of the Sai Wan Daily and forcibly recall all newspapers on the market.”

"I don't care if you rob or kill, this must be resolved today!"

After saying that, he looked at his pampered, obese face in the mirror and unconsciously compared it to the features of Cyrus VII.

After a long while, Silas fell silent.
Because the two have absolutely nothing in common.

“Lord Silas, there is a man outside the court who wants to see you. He says he knows who wrote the articles in the newspapers.”

At this moment, other deacons came to report the news.

Upon hearing this, the presiding judge, who had initially intended to refuse, suddenly became interested and loudly proclaimed:
"Let him in quickly!"

(End of this chapter)