More than a decade had passed since Sylvester had vanished from the world. For a time, the world was in turmoil as the demons appeared in the Sand Continent. But with the combined strength of Humans, Elves, Dragons, Giants, and the Demon Empress, a lasting peace ensued.

Although corruption was high, so was faith. Crimes were increasing, but the world never stopped progressing. As if invisible shackles had been removed, the pace of industrialization and common prosperity increased.

Yet, the strongest being in Sol. No, the strongest being in the entire world couldn't care less about the mundane matters of humans and others. For him, every day was all about sitting at the windowsill and staring at the sun and the stars, waiting for his dear son to return.

"Where are you, Maxy?" Miraj asked the empty air for the nth time. "If you're not quick… I'll open the honey cookie jar and leave nothing for you… I miss you."

"I dare you to try, Chonky."

Miraj breathed even more heavily and melted down on the windowsill, paws spread wide and his belly flat. "I even imagine hearing you now… Big Mum misses you too."

"I missed her too."

Miraj's ears twitched for a moment. "I still hear you."

Tap! Tap!

All of a sudden, Miraj felt something tap on his furry back. "I can even feel him poking m…?"

There was a little pause.

"Poking me?! Wait!"

Woosh!

Miraj's fluffy, white furry head turned around at breakneck speed, without even moving his lower body. He just froze in that state, his big marble-like eyes wide, his little maw wide open, teeth visible.

"You grew fatter, Chonky."

"MAXY!" Miraj roared like a dragon and flew at Sylvester, slamming right in the center of his chest. A normal being would have died, but in Sylvester's arms, he only received a squishy hug. The hug he usually hated.

Sylvester squeezed the life out of his furry best friend. All smiles, he looked around at the ordinary room where he had lived for years. Everything was the same, yet he wasn't. "How have you been, Chonky?"

"Angry!" Miraj raised his face up and growled. "You said you'll be back in a jiffy."

"I'm sorry, Chonky. It took longer than expected. But I'm back and I'm alive. Isn't that all that matters?" He asked back and raised Miraj from under his elbows like a certain lion cub. "Your wings look bigger. You did get fat."

"No! I'm just more fluffy." Miraj protested and cheekily grinned. "I got stronger too. Hehe, I protected Big Mom as promised. Bad people tried to hurt Big Mom sometimes, but I ate them all. Don't worry, Maxy. I'll protect you too… forever! You'll never have to go anywhere again."

Sylvester smiled and nodded. Omniscience was a curse to have as he knew the words that were to be spoken to him. At best, he could only delay his senses a little not to lose the joy of talking. "Where is Mum?"

"She went to work at the Pope's Palace," Miraj chirped and freed himself from Sylvester's grip to land on his shoulder. The place he had spent so much time on. "She became the Saint Medico because Hendrix retired."

"First female Saint? Mum hasn't been wasting time, it seems. Let's go, we'll find her and the rest," Sylvester suggested and walked towards the glass window. Without even doing anything, his body and Miraj phased through the glass and the bricks as if they were air. Walking on the air itself, it became apparent to Miraj that this Sylvester was very different.

"How strong are you now, Maxy?"

"Strongest."

"Oh!" Miraj gawked for a little, and then melted on the shoulder like a furball. "The son has bested his father."

Sylvester laughed heartily, gazing around at the various facilities.

Not much had changed, but he could feel things weren't the same either. Electricity, which had just been invented when he was there last time, seemed to have become common.

"How did Gabriel do as the Pope?" He asked Miraj. He knew the answer as the god, but additional perspective was always welcome.

"Phew~" Miraj sighed. "It was hard. Gab was a tough slut to crack."

"Nut! You mean nut, Chonky." Sylvester immediately corrected him.

"Yes, yes, that. He placed a bed for himself inside the Pope's office and only left once every ten days to do inspections." Chonky explained, "I always brought him treats to cheer him up."

"Banana candies, banana pudding, banana cake, banana crackers, banana pies, banana shake—I don't think they can be called treats, Chonky." Sylvester pitied his poor friend. Gabriel wasn't massively strong, so he had less energy than the likes of Felix and Inquisitor High Lord.

"Nya?" Miraj meowed as if offended. "What's wrong with them? They're tasty."

"What did you eat this morning?" Sylvester asked him.

"Banana pudding."

"What did you eat last night?"

"Banana cake."

"At yesterday's lunch?"

"Tasty banana milkshake and chicken."

"Yesterday morning?"

"...Banana pie… But it's yummy!" Miraj realized where Sylvester was going and defended himself.

Sylvester stopped pestering the furball and descended down the long flight of stairs leading to the Pope's Palace. It seemed to be the pilgrimage season, so there was a line of people waiting to go up and plead with the Pope for their various problems, or just asking for blessings.

Sylvester also stood in line to listen to the common folks. He didn't look like a young boy anymore, so it was hard for people to directly recognise him. But, he still had golden eyes and long golden hair, even white robes; so he still received much attention. Yet, none dared to ask him if he was Sylvester Maximilian. After all, the last Pope was equated to god in the hearts of the people, and claiming someone was that man felt nothing short of blasphemy.

Soon enough, as the line moved, someone approached him. A Clergyman of Priest rank, it seemed. "Write down your name and the plea on this."

Sylvester received the board with fine paper and wrote it down. The fact that the Clergyman handed it to the people meant that literacy had increased vastly among the people.

'Johnathan King Westerling—Bring me th…' Sylvester wrote down the details and handed it back. Without even looking at what he wrote, the Priest walked to the next in line behind him. An old couple. Chapter provided via M|V|L@EMPYR.

He silently listened and saw what they wrote without even taking a glance. A plea to receive the blessing for their fifteenth child, who was soon to be born.

'They've been… very active.' Sylvester held back a chuckle and listened to the others.

A young man's plea to receive a scholarship for studying medicine.

A woman's plea to be blessed with a faithful husband.

A child's plea to have his father whipped for drinking too much alcohol.

A granny's plea to receive special medicine for her cherished pet dog on the verge of dying.

An Archwizard's plea to be accepted in the School of Dawn in the Holy Land.

An orphan warrior's plea to receive a surname and establish his household.

Sylvester saw all of the pleas until the end and smiled inwardly. They were all simple pleas, unlike in the past when most were cries for help against thieves, corrupt lords, slavers, or worse. Of course, he knew deviancy and corruption had increased since he vanished. But it was expected and natural.

"You're next."

Before long, Sylvester arrived at the top of the stairs where the herald to the Holy Court stood in wait. The man, albeit old, wasn't the one who served during Sylvester's days. He just stared at Sylvester silently for a while, confused, amused, and a little excited for reasons unknown to him.

Click!

One of the massive double doors opened, and a young pilgrim came out of the court with only a smile on his face.

"I will call your name in." The herald notified Sylvester and walked into the courtroom first. Holding the clipboard in his hands, he crossed the name of the previous pilgrim and prepared to shout the name of the next one and then read the plea in a calm voice. However, he froze when he looked at the plea.

He lifted his face and looked at the Pope's wooden, golden throne on a small platform. The entire, massive hall was filled with high-ranking Clergymen. All the while, other Saints stood beside the throne, staring at him.

The Guardians were there as well, making him feel weak in the knees.

Thud!

The herald heard the familiar metallic thud from the Inquisitor High Lord's massive staff. The man had officially retired and yet served as the Pope's advisor.

"T-The name is… Johnathan King Westerling… the p-plea—"

"Herald!" Lord Inquisitor warned, his voice deep and the red eyes behind the visor as threatening as his prime. "Your stuttering makes you no different from a wraith! Do your noble duty with faith!"

The Herald gulped and nodded. "The plea is—Bring me the ten-year report for the working of the Holy Land… I-I shall inspect… This is blasphemy, Your Holiness!" The Herald cried midway. "I will have him leave right away!"

Pat! Pat!

The Herald felt something on his shoulder and looked behind.

Thud!

His already weak legs went completely limp, and he fell down to his knees. His breath was stifled, his speech dissolved, and his eyes filled with nothing but joy.

"Holy Sovereign… His Holiness!"

The chatterings vanished in an instant, and chants of hushed prayers resonated throughout the hall that very instant.

A man with long golden hair, golden eyes, and a similarly bright halo stood at the entrance. Many imposters had been caught before, but none could ever replicate the magical warmth of that halo.

This was it.

This was their Pope's return.

Thud!

Men, women, and Clergymen, or not, all took to the knee in devout respect.

"Rise," Sylvester spoke softly, yet his words reached every ear as if he whispered to all of them up close.

He stepped into the Holy Court and walked the marble aisle to approach the throne. Finally, as he stopped before the stairs, he locked eyes with Gabriel.

"I'm back."