World's Last Hope

Eric had prepared a plan ahead of time. The first thing he did when he found himself alone with his thoughts was ask the system the most important question.

'How do I recover soul essence?'

If he wanted to use the system to his advantage, he would first have to find a way to use it without the risk of dying.

[There are three known ways: reclaim a cathedral, kill a guardian or an entity of similar power, or request help from the gods.]

Just as he feared, there wasn't a way to regain it passively—he had to risk his life.

The gods were in slumber, so that option was out of the question.

That meant the only way to regain his essence was to either reclaim a cathedral or kill its guardian, which, in his eyes, was essentially the same thing.

The problem was that he was weak. He might have the Soul Flame miracle, but that would only work if he managed to reach the enemy and wound it, which was easier said than done.

So, he had to find a cathedral with a weak guardian first. Second, it had to be nearby. He shifted his gaze to the side, where a simple hologram hovered.

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[Current Essence: 324]

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He was losing essence much faster than expected. He didn't have enough time to grieve the death of his parents or the fact that he would never see his sister again, because there was a clock counting down to his inevitable death.

This was his current goal: reach and liberate a cathedral as quickly as possible.

That meant he had to go alone or take no more than two or three people with him, because traveling in large groups took time. The problem was, how was he going to convince them to let him go?

The answer was simple.

He was going to bullshit his way out.

"Oh great, you seem to be as stupid as the others!" A woman in a red robe shouted as she looked at Eric.

There were steps one needed to take to convince large groups of people. The first step was observation.

As soon as he took his seat next to Aria, he saw something interesting: the seats were divided into groups by color, most likely representing their respective gods.

In front of the basic chairs and tables stood one much larger and mightier throne. He concluded this was a place reserved only for the grandmasters. Also, something important—only the grandmasters, who represented the masses, spoke; the masters in the back kept quiet.

So, he didn't need to convince every master here. He only needed to convince the grandmasters who represented them.

The second step was to tilt the general perception in a certain direction.

Eric smiled as he met the woman's gaze. "What, did you get offended that a single person can do something your entire clan can't?"

The best way to make your point was to get your opponent emotional. This would lead them to make mistakes.

"It seems you're new here, so let me bring you up to speed." The woman barked. "There have been thousands of 'chosen ones' before you, and all have failed. They were complete failures, taking precious resources down with them!"

"What resources are you talking about? When did I say I want anyone's help? Anyone can join me if they want, but I alone am enough." His expression darkened for a moment, before adding.

"And have some respect. These 'chosen ones' were chosen by your gods! Badmouthing them is no different than offending the gods!"

"It seems you are very confident, young lad," one of the grandmasters of the Ocean Clan spoke, clad in a blue robe. "But that confidence could lead you to your death, you know?"

"Or maybe there's a reason you're so confident," he continued with a smirk. "If you have a truly powerful miracle, you wouldn't mind sharing that information, right?"

"Yes, I have," Eric replied, trying to keep his composure.

In truth, he had and he hadn't. The Soul Flame looked overpowered, sure, but it would only work if he could land a hit on his enemy in the first place.

But no one needed to know that.

"Then share it with us… oh, but keep in mind that Saint Gabriel and a few others have the ability to tell when someone is lying."

Eric's smile disappeared. "Why… if what I say is true, would you let me go?"

Seeing that Eric wasn't smiling so confidently anymore, the old man smiled faintly. "Sure! If you're as strong as you say, we might even send some masters with you to keep you from dying. We wouldn't want to lose such a powerful ally, after all!"

'Ah, the young fool. He probably wasn't expecting that we could tell if he was lying or not.' The old man's thoughts mirrored those of every grandmaster in the room.

"I would even send my niece to help you, should what you say be true." A few grandmasters looked at the old man in surprise. His niece was considered one of the strongest masters, so offering her help showed just how much he wanted to mock the chosen one.

'Jackpot.' Eric's manic smile caught the old man off guard. In the next instant, Eric turned and looked directly into the eyes of Saint Gabriel, raising one finger.

"One. A single wound inflicted by me would kill anything—from the weakest pest to the strongest being in the world."

Saint Gabriel's expression became unreadable, probably determining whether Eric was lying or not.

The grandmaster of the Ocean Clan turned around and looked at one of the masters behind him. "I can't tell if he's telling the truth, or if he's insane enough to believe his own lie."

Upon hearing that, the old man's expression darkened, and he shouted, not giving Saint Gabriel time to express his thoughts.

"Oh, I see! You're just insane enough to believe your own lie! No wonder you're a curse-bearer, after all!"

Eric looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "This wasn't the deal, was it?"

"No matter!" the old man screamed. "No one believes what you're saying, nor would anyone want to go into the death zone with you."

"I'm sure someone would want to join me, though. Don't try to present your opinion like it's everyone's opinion."

It was obvious this truly was a rotten system. A few grandmasters had shared their own thoughts, stopping others from speaking out, not wanting to make enemies with the powerful.

"Prove it, then!" The woman in red barked angrily at him.

The second step was complete. Now, all he could do was gamble it all.

"Would anyone consider joining me in my quest to liberate the cathedral?" Eric's voice echoed through the room.

The faces of the two grandmasters arguing with Eric were filled with mockery… until a voice, pleasant like a melody, spoke evenly.

"Sure, I would join you," Aria said, raising her hand.

Grandmaster Gryndor flinched for a moment. His granddaughter's sudden agreement to this deadly mission was unexpected, but he decided to have faith in her and didn't say anything.

Whispers spread around the room.

"Lady Aria?"

"Hey, isn't she considered the strongest master?"

"I see you brats must have organized this from the start!" The violent voice of the grandmaster clad in blue silenced every voice in the room.

"Eh? I originally wanted to go alone. You're the one who offered me help by saying you would send your niece, Grandmaster," Eric's voice was full of mockery as he looked at the old man who had gotten too emotional to think clearly.

"You're too young to know how things should work!"

"And you're too old to dictate the rules anymore, old man."

Hearing the insult, the old man's face reddened with rage. He took a moment to compose himself before replying.

"Then let's hold a vote. If you win, you will go with Aria and my niece to try and liberate the cathedral!"

Upon hearing that, Eric grinned maniacally. Only a single thought echoed in his mind.

'JACKPOT!'

One of the representatives of the Ocean Clan spoke.

"On the matter of whether Eric should go and try to liberate the nearest cathedral, if you agree, please raise your hand."

Eric and Aria raised their hands. No one else did, but that didn't matter.

Eric's plan had gone swimmingly. Throughout the whole debate, he had been discriminated against not once, but twice!

This meant only one thing: Eric, still smiling like a lunatic, sharply turned his head and stared directly into the eyes of Saint Gabriel.

It was that the Saint couldn't remain neutral anymore—he had to vote! If he didn't, it would mean he favored a certain side, which would be disastrous. As the one at the center of everything, working as the neutral party, he couldn't allow such discrimination to stand!

One by one, the grandmasters realized the mistake they had made and turned to look at Saint Gabriel, who was still locked in a gaze with Eric, weighing his choices.

After a few moments of silence, the Saint broke his gaze first, signaling his decision. He raised his hand, voting in favor of the motion.

This was the third step: convince the most influential person in the room, and the rest would follow your way.

Eric, remembering the words of Aria, smiled widely. "When he votes, his side always wins."

'Ah, who knew… that playing these political games was so fun!'