True faith needs no response. You believe what you believe, I'll do what I do, and we won't interfere with each other. However, I think you need direction, you need hope, you need something that you can see, touch, and believe in.
He sat up straight and looked at Francis IV.
"So, I've come."
Francis IV looked at him for a long time.
"Sir, what do you want me to do?"
Higashino Makoto remained silent. His gaze swept over the old man's gray hair, his wrinkled face, and his grey eyes that shimmered faintly in the candlelight.
At eighty-seven years old, although he lived a privileged life as pope and took good care of himself, he was still in a state of exhaustion and his days were numbered.
You're getting old.
Francis IV paused for a moment, then gave a wry smile.
"Yes, I'm getting old."
"Your body won't be able to hold on much longer. Either this year, next year, or maybe the year after."
Higashino Makoto's tone was flat.
Do you want to die?
Francis IV remained silent for a moment.
"In no mood."
"Why?"
"Because I still have things to finish."
"What's up?"
Francis IV closed his eyes and gently stroked the pages of the Bible with his fingers.
"I want more people to believe in God's existence, in Heaven's existence, in the immortality of the soul, and that my Lord is here."
He opened his eyes, his gray eyes looking at Higashino Makoto.
"I wasn't sure before, but now I am. So I want to tell them, to let those who, like me, have been lost their whole lives, know that what they believed in is true."
Higashino Makoto stared at him for a long time.
"Very well, I can spare your life."
Francis IV's pupils contracted slightly.
"What did you say?"
I said, I can keep you alive.
Higashino Makoto stood up, walked up to him, and looked down at him.
"I will transform you into an angel, and you will serve as my messenger, continuing to protect my church and my flock."
Francis IV's lips trembled with excitement.
"You--you--are--"
"Able."
Higashino Makoto stretched out his hand, and a golden light appeared in his palm.
"After being transformed into an angel, you will gain power, you will gain eternal life, and you will gain the responsibility of protecting this world."
He paused.
Are you willing?
Francis IV gazed at the golden light for a long time.
Then, without hesitation, he knelt down.
"I do."
His voice was calm, but something burned in his gray eyes.
"My Lord, I have believed my whole life, I have prayed my whole life, I have waited my whole life. Now you stand before me and ask me if I wish to become an angel. How can I say no?"
Higashino Makoto nodded.
"Close your eyes."
Francis IV closed his eyes.
Golden light emanated from his palm, enveloping the old man.
The light seeped into his skin, into his muscles, into his bones, into his soul.
Those withered, age-spotted hands began to look younger.
Those gray hairs began to turn black.
Those wrinkles began to disappear.
His body was glowing.
When the light faded, the person standing before Higashino Makoto was no longer the 87-year-old man.
Instead, he was a middle-aged man who looked to be around thirty years old, with short blond hair, gray eyes, and a thin face.
He wore a long white robe, and a pair of pure white wings spread out from his back.
Higashino Makoto used the "Refined Feather of Ascension," which directly granted him the Lv15 Angel race level, allowing him to use up to the third tier of magic.
How are you feeling?
Higashino Makoto asked.
Francis lowered his head and looked at his hands.
Young, strong, and energetic hands. He clenched his fist and felt a surge of power he had never felt before coursing through his body.
"Very good."
His voice was no longer hoarse.
"Thanks be to the Lord for His grace."
Higashino Makoto nodded, walked to the window, and opened it.
Sunlight streamed in, illuminating the entire room.
Outside the window, hundreds of believers still gathered in St. Peter's Square.
"From this day forward, you are not only the Pope, you are also an angel."
Higashino Makoto turned around and looked at him.
"The church has been divided for too long. Your first task is to unify our faith; you must make them believe that heaven exists, hell exists, and the soul is immortal."
He paused.
"And I will live on forever."
Francis looked at him, a complex light flickering in his gray eyes.
"Sir, you don't need to come in person?"
"Unnecessary."
Higashino Makoto shook his head.
"The flock needs a visible shepherd, a shepherd who only needs to point the way, but God doesn't need to show himself."
He looked out the window at the believers kneeling on the ground in prayer.
"They believe in God, not people. If I keep appearing, their belief will shift from God to a visible, tangible being, someone just like them. That's not faith, that's worship."
He turned around and looked at Francis.
"Worship will disappear, but faith will not."
Francis remained silent for a long time.
"Your Excellency, I understand."
"Understand what?"
"Understand my mission! I will ensure that your shepherds are united in faith and that your flock grows strong."
Higashino Makoto's lips curled up slightly.
"Almost."
He didn't move, he simply vanished, leaving behind only one sentence—
"Let's go, the people outside are waiting for you."
Francis stepped out of the room, onto the balcony of St. Peter's Square, spread his wings, and soared into the air.
The believers raised their heads.
"That's the Pope! I've seen him when he was young—"
"The Pope! The Pope has come out!"
"He—he's gotten younger—"
"An angel—the Pope has become an angel!"
"God—God has answered us—!"
People knelt on the ground, weeping, praying, and cheering.
Those souls who were once lost in the darkness have now had hope rekindled.
Francis stood on the balcony, his gray eyes looking down at the believers in the square, and remained silent for a long time.
"Devout believers."
He spoke, his voice no longer hoarse, but clear and powerful.
Three days ago, God descended. The gates of Heaven opened, and God bestowed blessings upon this city. And I was transformed into an angel.
He stretched out his hand, and a wing unfolded behind him, its pure white feathers gleaming golden in the sunlight.
"From this day forward, I am no longer just your Pope, I am your shepherd, the shepherd permitted by our Lord."
People cried, laughed, and prayed.
Francis stood there, his grey eyes reflecting the faces of the believers.
He thought of his eighty-seven years of life, of the days and nights he had spent in darkness, and of the countless moments of doubt and unwavering conviction.
I've believed it my whole life.
He whispered, but no one could hear him.
"Finally, it's here."