I am the Pope in the Western Fantasy World

Under the siege of several gods' favored ones, the young man was ultimately outnumbered and would soon be defeated.

His lips moved slightly, and a pair of golden wings suddenly appeared on his back. Although he did not fly, his speed suddenly increased. Afterimages appeared under his feet, and he soon disappeared in front of everyone.

What a great skill at escaping, Phil Gray thought, if only he could get his hands on him by the chance.

“Chase——” A cold light flashed in George’s eyes.

The servants rushed out and chased towards the place where the young man disappeared.

The tables and chairs on the ground floor of the inn were almost burned to ashes. Phil Gray saw several friends coming out to watch the fun and hurriedly called them to put out the fire.

Fortunately, the fire did not spread to the upper floors.

George was standing on the stairs with a gloomy face. No one knew what he was thinking. He turned around and went back to the house.

After helping the innkeeper to tidy up a bit, they gathered at the door.

"Cousin, what just happened?" Patrick asked quietly.

Phil Gray smiled and told them everything that had just happened.

"Hahaha, that's great, let them fight, we'll hide in the dark."

Eli looked at the still messy inn, and felt a little disgusted by the dust brought by the boss sweeping the floor. "Let's go and check out the fried fish shop George mentioned."

"I agree."

"Okay, but someone has to stay behind to monitor George. We need to know his next move," said Phil Gray.

Seeing Patrick who was excited to go out and Eli who looked bored, Ernest took the job.

London Harbor is extremely lively during the day, with the aroma of delicious food lingering in the streets.

"That should be the fried fish shop he mentioned!" Patrick said, pointing at a shop. The queue at the door was so long that you couldn't see the end of it.

Phil Gray looked over and saw a painting of golden wheat ears on the shop sign. Wasn't this the symbol of the God of Food Cult?

"It looks like this is a shop opened by the God of Food Cult in the Dark Night Church. No wonder there are so many people here."

"There are so many people here. Do we need to queue?" asked Phil Gray.

"Of course." Patrick squeezed forward excitedly, "Cousin, you guys wait over there."

"Okay." Phil Gray and Eli walked to a secluded corner where the sunlight formed a shadow.

"What do you think our partner Ernest's attitude is towards his father's illegitimate son?" Eli asked with interest. "He has been silent as usual during the whole journey, and it is hard to tell what he is really thinking."

"You guessed that he was the Duke of Surrey's son?"

"Yeah, you guys made it so obvious, I'm not an idiot," Eli snorted.

"I don't know. He may treat George like a stranger. He neither hates nor likes him."

"That's not necessarily true. I didn't see any change in George's expression when he faked his death, but it's possible that he was hiding it deep in his heart. Some people attach great importance to blood ties, while some people hate those illegitimate children who suddenly appear. Who knows?" Eli spread his hands.

"But he seems to think very highly of his sister. That day when we suspected that his sister had sent an assassin, he rejected it so excitedly."

"Well, if we want to stop George from rebelling, we must expose his conspiracy and disrupt his actions. Then we will have to fight with swords."

"If George hadn't done anything else to hurt others for the sake of rebellion, I might have spared the life of his half brother for Ernest's sake." Phil Gray looked towards the fried fish shop.

"Hahaha, but how do you know Ernest isn't the one who wants George dead the most?" Eli laughed.

Phil Gray was helpless. He didn't expect Eli to care so much about his companions' emotions.

Someone came over and stood next to them, seemingly leaning against the wall to rest for a while. They were an old man and a young man.

The old man was wearing a black robe with a huge moon painted on his back. He had short curly white and brown hair and a furrowed brow.

"It's been almost a month, and there is still no progress. I also had another strange dream." The young man sighed deeply, with frustration in his tone. He was wearing neat silk clothes and had green eyes on a face covered with pockmarks.

"As for the dream, it's easy to explain. We have preliminarily determined that it was done by the followers of the Goddess of Dreams and the God of Death. We don't know what conspiracy they have, but from what we can see so far, the people who entered the dream have not been harmed."

The old man guessed again, "It may be that several followers of these two churches are completing the motto of the gods. You also know the special nature of the motto. Several major churches have regulations. As long as it does not cause harm to anyone, it is allowed to use skills within a certain range to complete the motto."

“That’s not necessarily the case. They have had a great impact on the mental state of the residents of Port Lunxi. They are definitely not good people.

By the way, Grandpa, I heard that the Son of the Dawn Cult is coming to our Dark Night Parish. Can we ask him for help? Aren’t the followers of the Day Prophet the best at dealing with the undead? We really don’t have enough manpower, so we can ask him to help us investigate the girl’s disappearance. He may have a solution. "When the boy said this, his eyes showed excitement.

Phil Gray and Eli were listening quietly on the side. It turned out that the young man from the Dawn Cult who came to find him was actually the Son of God. He really needed to inform the Dark Night Cult before he could arrive at the Dark Night Parish.

“Alas, thinking back to the past, our church and the Church of the Dawn were equally powerful, and we even outnumbered them. But now we only have this small diocese, and we even have to ask for their help.” The old man said with emotion.

"Grandpa, we're used to it. The time you said when we were on par with them dates back to a thousand years ago." The young man laughed.

“Yes, but we want to know all our lives: has the Son of Night abandoned us? Why are there no more miracles from Him?” The old man looked at the star and moon symbols on the black house, his eyes moist.

There was silence for a moment.

The Son of Night also seemed to have disappeared? Like the God of Fate? Also suspected and abandoned by his followers?

Hearing this, Phil Gray was a little confused. The Son of Night disappeared a thousand years ago, which led to the decline of the Dark Night Cult. And according to what Patrick once said, it was about two hundred years ago that the God of Destiny had not descended successfully again, which also led to the decline of the Destiny Cult.

What is the connection between these two gods? Why do they no longer come to the human world? Are there other gods in the same situation?

A series of questions arose in Phil Gray's mind.

At this time, another person ran over and broke the silence in the corner. He said breathlessly to the old man leaning against the wall, "Bishop Eugene, there is a young man coming to the church. He said he is from the Dawn Church."

"The Holy Son is here so soon, let's go!" The young man pulled his grandfather's sleeve and walked forward.

No, he had been there long before, and had nearly burned down an inn in Port London, Phil Gray thought.

"I don't know if that Holy Son will join forces with the Dark Night Cult to look for you. You've caused a big trouble for Master George. What if you delay his important business?" Eli laughed and winked at Phil Gray.