“What?! You want me to be the next Pope?!”
Isha’s eyes went wide as saucers the moment the words left my mouth.
It had been a few days since the incident. I had come to the church specifically to find Isha and make this request. I needed her to take the papacy.
“Yeah. The seat’s vacant for a variety of reasons, and I thought you’d be a perfect fit. You’re already a popular singer, so I think it’s a pretty good move.”
“No, no, no! That’s absolutely impossible! There’s no way someone like me could ever serve as the Pope!”
Isha shook her head so vigorously her hair became a blur.
Hmm. Just as I thought. Given Isha’s humble personality, I didn't expect her to jump at the chance. But I had a very good reason for coming here to ask, even if it was a long shot.
Ever since the battle, followers had been cornering me every single day, tearfully begging me to become the Pope. It was a nightmare. No matter how many times I told them they had the wrong person, they would just cry harder. “No, it was undoubtedly you, Master Lloyd! Please, you must lead us!”
After an endless back-and-forth, they finally agreed to a compromise: I would be the one to choose the successor. I’d wondered if the position was really that flexible, but the believers insisted that if I was the one choosing, they would support whoever it was without question.
And so, here I was, asking Isha. But…
“I absolutely cannot do it!” she insisted, her rejection firm.
From my perspective, having an acquaintance who wasn't particularly obsessed with magic in that seat would be ideal. I figured she’d willingly share any Holy Magic research books I managed to get through church channels. It would have been a dream come true for my research.
“Master Lloyd, no matter how you slice it, a normal girl like this isn’t cut out to lead ten thousand followers. It’s only natural she’d turn you down, sir,” Grimo remarked.
“Muu… even for Isha-tan, I must admit the throne of the Pope is a heavy burden. Although, if it comes to pass, I will of course support my fave with every fiber of my being…” Jiriel added.
Both Grimo and Jiriel were skeptical. Given Isha’s nature, I knew she wouldn’t just say yes because I asked nicely. That was exactly why I had brought my secret weapon.
Saria, who had been standing quietly behind me, took a step forward.
“Hey, Isha. Do you remember the first time we met?”
“Saria? U-Um… it was at a church concert, wasn't it?” Isha answered after a moment’s thought.
“Oh! I remember it vividly!” Jiriel chimed in, already getting emotional. “Ten years ago, the day the legend of Saria-tan began! Everyone was weeping at a performance so sublime it was impossible to believe a child was playing! Just thinking about it brings tears to my eyes…”
Apparently, Saria’s talent had been legendary even back then.
“You came up to me right as I was trying to leave after the show,” Saria said, her voice soft. “Your eyes were sparkling. You told me, ‘That was amazing! Teach me, too!’ …I didn't, of course.”
You didn’t? Cold, I thought.
Saria continued, her gaze turning distant. “But you didn't give up. No matter how much I ignored you, you’d just start singing right next to me while I played. I remember thinking, What is with this girl? But for some reason, I didn’t hate it. Before I knew it, you were always there, right by my side.”
Saria began to walk toward the piano in the corner of the room. She pulled out the bench and sat down, her fingers sliding gracefully across the keys. A few delicate notes—plink, plonk—began to echo through the hall.
Isha watched her, stunned by the sudden movement, but then something seemed to click. She took a breath and began to sing.
The song was an old one—a simple nursery rhyme that children often sang. But under their touch, it was elevated to another dimension entirely. The melody was delicate yet majestic, carrying a sense of history and prestige. Bathed in the soft light filtering through the stained glass, the two of them looked like a masterpiece brought to life. I found myself speechless, unable to do anything but watch.
As the final notes lingered in the air, Isha was the first to speak.
“That song… I remember now, Saria. The reason I sing is to share my voice with the whole world.”
Saria gave a small, firm nod.
“I asked you once, ‘Why do you want to sing with me?’ You told me that if my playing accompanied your voice, even more people would listen. You joined the church just so you could reach as many people as possible. You said you’d keep growing your audience bit by bit until one day, the entire world would hear you. I was exasperated by how selfish you were, but I was also impressed. You had the boldness to do whatever it took to reach your goal, and your eyes never wavered. Because you are that person, I’ve stayed with you all this time.”
“I… I did say that, didn't I? It’s a little embarrassing to hear my childhood dreams out loud,” Isha said, her cheeks flushing.
“What’s wrong with that? Just become the Pope. If you do, the day your voice reaches the whole world will come much sooner. And don't worry—when that day comes, I’ll be right there playing beside you.”
“Saria…”
Tears welled up in Isha’s eyes. She took a deep breath and nodded.
“I understand. I’ll do it. I’ll become the Pope.”
Isha looked straight ahead, her face filled with newfound hope.
“Still, Saria, I can’t believe you remembered something from so long ago. I’d completely forgotten.”
“As if I could forget. You’re… well, you’re one of my only friends,” Saria muttered, scratching her cheek bashfully.
Seeing her sister like that, Isha’s face broke into a radiant smile.
“Saria!”
She threw her arms around Saria in a tight hug.
“Whoa! W-What are you doing?”
Isha just gave a silly, happy giggle. “Nothing! Ehehe!”
“Good grief,” Saria sighed, but she didn't pull away. She wrapped her arms around Isha, returning the embrace. They looked less like a princess and a priestess and more like two sisters who shared a deep, unbreakable bond.
“Oooooh…! Saria-tan and Isha-tan are hugging! What a glorious sight! It’s beautiful! Truly, this is a miracle! God is in this room!” Jiriel wailed, his voice trembling with sob-like intensity.
I didn't know what his deal was, but he was being creepier than I’d ever seen him.
“Master Lloyd, are you sure about this, sir? Keeping a creep like this around? Just look at that disgusting face he’s making,” Grimo whispered.
“Well, I need him if I want to keep using Holy Magic, so it can’t be helped.”
I agreed that he was unsettling, but he didn't seem like a bad person at heart. Probably. Plus, his knowledge of the Celestial Realm was too useful to pass up. Regardless, Isha was going to be the Pope, so I’d call that a win.
Isha’s coronation was held amidst a thunderous ovation from the masses.
Normally, the crown would be placed by the Former Pope, but for some reason, the duty fell to me. I still didn't quite understand why.
As I placed the crown upon the kneeling Isha’s head, her beautiful blonde hair swayed softly in the breeze. When she stood and waved to the followers, a roar of cheers erupted to welcome their new leader.
Well, I suppose that settles things for now.
I had only set out to find more magic, and yet I’d ended up orchestrating the birth of a new Pope. Life certainly took some strange turns.
But magic really was a bottomless well. Holy Magic, monster synthesis… I still couldn't see the end of it, but that was the best part. I had new subjects to study and more resources than ever.
I wondered what I should tackle next.
I watched the crowd celebrate their new Pope, already feeling the familiar itch of excitement for my next discovery.