Chapter 303: Trust Among Comrades

Man, this was exactly why I liked his character... almost as much as I hated it.

In the game, Michael started out as a petty yet good-natured, strong but naïve, imperfect yet loyal-to-a-fault protagonist.

He had opinions, sure. He got annoyed and he sulked. He held grudges sometimes — no, he

grew

his grudges — but he also forgave just as easily.

He had many,

many

flaws. He was dishonest, even with the people closest to him. He was stubborn, and he got far too confident in his strength after gaining Xaldreth’s power.

He made mistakes. So, so many mistakes. But that was exactly what made him relatable to me.

Because what man was truly perfect? We all have our faults, and we spend our entire lives working through them.

We fuck up, and we learn.

That was exactly the kind of protagonist Michael Godswill was.

You could love him or hate him, but you

had

to admit that, at his core, he was simple in the way only genuinely good people were simple.

He wanted to help everyone.

He wanted to protect everyone.

He wanted to believe that if he tried hard enough, things would turn out right for everyone.

And over the course of the game, he grew. He learned little by little from each mistake and resolved never to repeat them.

So while he began as a naïve fool, he quickly learned to read people after being punished for his shortcomings.

...Not unlike the time I reeled him into committing arson.

Hey, in my defense, that was pretty tame compared to how other characters manipulated him later in the game!

Ahem, anyway, like I was saying, I liked him because he learned. He adapted. He stopped being passive and started taking charge.

In simple words, he just got better at being the main lead he was supposed to be.

Just like now, for example, when he baited me into revealing far more than I should have known, without getting me to say a single word.

And it would be a complete lie to say I wasn’t at least a little proud of him for that.

"Good job," I said, nodding in genuine appreciation.

Michael looked utterly confused, as if he’d expected me to deny it or dance around the subject a bit longer.

I didn’t bother.

...Because, in all honesty, I’d wanted to have this conversation with him anyway.

That was why I’d been leaving breadcrumbs for him to follow.

Yeah. It was all intentional.

Obviously, I wasn’t stupid enough to talk openly about things like Demon Princes and the Spirit King while hoping he’d never ask questions.

I had been deliberately disclosing information.

I didn’t just slip up like a moron when I asked him to teach me Essence Channeling. No, I knew he was cautious. I knew he had never used that technique in front of me.

So, when I asked him to teach me, it was on purpose.

Now, I know what you’re thinking.

’But Sam, why in the world would you do that?’

Because the moment the

Night Sanctuary

Massacre happened, when it finally dawned on me that I’d made a colossal blunder... I realized something.

I couldn’t keep pulling strings from the background anymore. I, too, needed to actively participate in the story if I wanted to change its ending.

And I couldn’t do that alone.

My sister’s words kept echoing in my ears.

"...In real war, it’s not about lone heroes. It’s about armies. A king without an army is just a fool with a crown. And when the whole world is against you... you’ll fall."

As much as I hated it, she was right. She had always been insightful like that. She had seen right through me and mercilessly exploited my weakness.

After thinking back on her words, I couldn’t help but acknowledge how painfully stupid I was.

Soon enough, events would begin spiraling far beyond the reach of a single person’s control.

To bend them to my will, I needed proxies. I needed subordinates.

I needed... pawns.

Unfortunately, life wasn’t a simple game of chess. This was also something I fully realized after the

Night Sanctuary

incident.

Because in real life, pawns had feelings. And feelings were variables.

I couldn’t just move a pawn against its will. Even if I

did

, it wouldn’t be efficient.

That was why I needed these pawns to

trust

me. Trust me enough to march into death at my command. Trust me enough to act without hesitation.

And that meant only one thing.

I couldn’t treat them like pawns anymore.

I had to treat them like people.

Yeah. It disgusted me to even think of that.

What do you mean I had to offer basic human respect to everyone?

I had to treat them with inherent dignity, kindness, and consideration, recognizing their fundamental worth and autonomy?

What a load of crap!

But that was the irony of it all.

To build an army that would follow me into hell itself, I couldn’t lie to them endlessly. I couldn’t keep manipulating them from the shadows.

I couldn’t reduce them to disposable pieces the way you do in a game of chess.

Because this wasn’t a game anymore.

And Michael — frustrating, righteous, stubborn Michael — was the perfect proof of that.

He wasn’t someone you could control for long.

Fear wouldn’t work. Deception wouldn’t work. Power wouldn’t work either.

In the end, he’d turn on you.

So to avoid a scenario where he was your enemy, he had to

choose

to follow you.

That was why I needed him, and all the other main characters, to

choose

me.

I needed their undying fidelity.

So I began, "Do you remember when we fought, and I fell and slammed my head against a rock?"

Michael shifted in his place, going from mildly surprised by my praise to visibly restless... for reasons I didn’t quite understand.

"Yeah, uh— sorry," he said uneasily, then bit his tongue, like that red-faced response stunned even him.

...Yeah, why would he apologize for that?

What a fucking weirdo.

I gave him a look and continued. "Anyway. When I woke up in the hospital, I had some... revelations."

His brows furrowed. "Revelations...?"

"Yeah. As in visions."

"...V-Visions!?"

I nodded. "Flashes of a future still to pass. Of a life I hadn’t yet lived. I watched things I was too powerless to stop. I witnessed events that transpired beyond my control. At last, I... saw the world end."

Michael blinked at me like he was staring at a madman. He stayed silent, until his frown hardened and his eyes narrowed. "That’s stupid. Your power isn’t even related to—"

"Remember when I told you Selene would teleport us out of

Night Sanctuary

before she did? Remember how I suspected the High Priest of Ishtara without any evidence?"

He froze. Then his eyes were blown wide.

I shrugged. "Yeah. I saw the destruction of Ishtara way before it happened. I tried to warn you all. I had no proof, but I

knew

the church was involved somehow. I didn’t know about the Overload, my knowledge is very vague. But I

knew

Ishtara would burn if I didn’t try."

I sighed softly. "So I tried. And it burned anyway."

I pressed a hand to my face, acting like the weight of it all was hard to bear. "I knew about the

Night Sanctuary

too. I tried to stop it, Michael. I really did. But I stopped nothing. Fate, it seems, has a way of snapping back into place."

I heard him lean forward uncomfortably beside me. My acting was impressive, if I did say so myself.

Finally, he murmured, "Wh-Why didn’t you—"

"Tell anyone? Say something? Asked for help?" I finished for him. "Who would’ve believed me? Do

you

believe me?"

He stayed silent as his eyes darted to mine, searching for the sincerity behind my words.

The tension was palpable.

But he wasn’t dismissive anymore. He was contemplating.

So I pressed just a little more. "I can even tell you about what’s coming. The next big event will be the assassination of Willem and Alice, the royal twins. That will spark a massive rift between the Monarchs and trigger a world war. The Ascent Isles will fall. The Northern Safe Zone will be destroyed. Then I saw all the Demon Princes, even the one sealed inside your sword, descend upon the world. And at the end of it all... I saw the Spirit King waking up from his slumber. Once that False God is revived, everything will be destroyed.

Everything

."

I kept my narration intentionally ambiguous.

That way, from now on, I could justify any strange action I’d take with this so-called mysterious knowledge without ever admitting more than I wanted to.

"Sam..." he said slowly. "If even half of that is true, then—"

"—then it explains a lot," I cut in gently. "I know. So the real question is, do you believe me?"

I met his eyes.

He looked conflicted, jaw tight as he glanced away. The two Cards he’d been idly playing with until now stilled in his hands.

His hesitation was expected.

After all, I’d just told him I’d seen the end of the world and had been acting on that knowledge alone.

It sounded ridiculous, even to my own ears.

But what other explanation was there?

How else could I have known about the Demon Princes? How else could I have known about the techniques Michael hadn’t even shown me?

And most importantly, how else could I have known about the Spirit King, when even the Monarchs barely knew about him?

Sure, my story had holes.

But I didn’t need his full belief yet. All I needed was just a crack, and I’d slowly work my way from there.

Come on,

I thought.

Say it. Say it. Say—

"I’ll believe you," he said at the end of that long pause, turning back to me, "when I see what you’re talking about happen with my own eyes."

Got him.

I sighed and put on my disappointed face. "That’s fair, I guess."

Hook, line, and sinker.

By the time this journey was over, I’d make sure that my pawns—

No.

I corrected myself immediately.

My comrades.

Yeah, that felt weird on my tongue.

—would never again have the luxury of doubting me.

And the first obstacle I’d use them to crush would be that boggy pig.

Jake Mel Flazer.