Reincarnated With The Strongest System

"Will, I'm not going to give up."

"Please, give up."

Lira was currently hugging the black-haired teenager, while Ephemera was waiting on the flying ship. The two Virtuous Ladies were headed home, since the contract he had passed through Sancus had been signed—not only by the Pope, but the remaining virtues as well.

Because of this, Lira and Ephemera had to return to the Palace of Light as soon as possible, or else they might think that William was trying to delay the agreement they had signed in the contract.

The brown-haired beauty sighed as she reluctantly took a step back. Right after that, she held onto William's shoulders, stood on tiptoes and gave him a kiss before going to the flying ship without a backward glance.

"Go," Lira ordered as she looked in front of her. She was afraid that if she turned her head, her resolve to leave would shatter.

Ephemera gave William one last glance before operating the flying ship to fly away. Not long after, a golden portal appeared in front of the ship, allowing it to instantly teleport to the location of the Palace of Light.

"She sure is one feisty secret mistress," Chloee said in a teasing tone.

"Secret Mistress?" William asked with a confused look on his face. "What secret mistress?"

Chloee smirked. "They said that it is the relationship they have with you."

William could only shake his head helplessly at the self-proclaimed relationship he had with Lira and Ephemera. Now that the two ladies were gone, it was time for him to resume his goal of conquering as many Dungeons as he could before he moved to the next phase of his plan.

"Let's go, Chloee," William said as he offered his hand to her. "The two of us are going to be busy. I will need your help."

"And you shall have it," Chloee replied. "I'll go with you to damnation and beyond."

—--

Somewhere in the Central Continent…

Lira and and Ephemera stared at the magnificent palace that was not accessible using ordinary means.

It was the headquarters of the Holy Order of Light. Only high-ranking officers of the order could enter its Domain, and only the Pope and the Seven Virtues, could enter its deepest parts.

"We're back," Ephemera said softly. 

"Yes," Lira replied. 

"You don't sound too happy, Lira."

"I'm not happy, but I need to do this. I need to rescue Will's cousin, as well as ensure that the Heir of Darkness and Ahriman are defeated. In order to protect Will, I will do everything in my power to stop them."

"You've really fallen for him."

"He's just…"

"Just?" Ephemera arched an eyebrow. Although she had also offered herself willingly to William, she wasn't as submissive, nor had fallen madly in love with him, like Lira.

"Just too good to pass up, you know?" Lira blushed. "I haven't met a man like him."

Ephemera rolled her eyes as she steered the flying boat towards the entrance of the Palace. 

"Well, I don't particularly care if you worship him or not. But, make sure to act in a proper manner when we are around the others."

"Of course I know that. I am not stupid."

"Well, we will soon find out whether I can believe your words or not," Ephemera replied as the ship landed safely on the ground. "Let's go."

Lira nodded as she followed her friend towards the massive white marble doors that opened up to allow them entry.

—--

Silvermoon Continent…

Seated at the grand round table were the Elders of the different Elven Clans that ruled over the Elves.

At the very center, Aenarion sat as he scanned the faces of the Elves who had grim expressions on their faces.

"Who would have thought that we would be facing not one, but two prophecies at the same time?" One of the Elders shook his head helplessly after looking at the documents in his hand.

"Heir of Darkness in the Demon Continent, as well as the Prince of Darkness that hails from the Southern Continent," another Elf commented. "One hates us because they failed to conquer our lands, the other hates us for trying to conquer their lands. We are in a tight spot, and the Heir of Darkness could trample upon all of us due to the forces that he possesses.

"We can forget about the Prince of Darkness for now because he is not capable of breaking past our defenses. According to Byron, the majority of the Half-Elf's elite warriors died during his initial clash with the Heir of Darkness, alongside his wives. Right now, he has no ability to move unhindered here in our lands."

"That's right. Also, this is the birthplace of his mother. He will not destroy it, right?"

"But, what if he kept a grudge about what happened in the Southern Continent? You can't rule that out."

"Even if he held a grudge, we have no reason to fear him. The only one we should focus our attention on is the Heir of Darkness. He poses a real threat, and if we don't think of a counterplan soon, all of us will have no choice but to kneel and beg for his mercy."

The atmosphere inside the conference room became tense as the Elves faced the most daunting challenge of their lives. 

"How about… we offer the Saintess, as an exchange for peace with the Demons?" one of the Elders said as he gave Aenarion a side-long glance. "Surely, she would gladly offer herself as a sacrifice if that will help ease the hatred that the Demons feel towards us, right?"

As soon as everyone heard his proposal, the entire conference room quieted down as a pin-drop silence ensued. This lasted for a few minutes before it was broken by Aenarion's cold snort.

"Go ahead if you dare," Aenarion sneered. "It seems that you have lived a long and peaceful life. I guess I have no choice but to march our Clan's army and eradicate your entire clan. Don't even think for a second that I don't know that you are one of the remaining supporters of the conquest of the Southern Continent here in the council. If you really wish to die, I will gladly have you, and the heads of your entire clan, served on a silver platter for the demons to spit on."

The Elder who made the proposal immediately quieted down. He knew that Aenarion wasn't someone who liked to joke around, and if he really wished for it, forget about the Heir and Prince of Darkness. His army alone was enough to wipe their entire Clan from the face of the Silvermoon Continent.

"Calm down, Aenarion, I'm sure that he is just joking, right?"

"T-That's right. I am just joking. Forgive me, your Excellency."

Aenarion snorted, but his eyes were still cold. Clearly, he didn't like how the Elder acted, and everyone in the council could feel that after the conference was over, with one of the Clans—that lived in the Silvermoon Continent for thousands of years—in danger of being wiped out completely.

"Let's not fight against ourselves!" the oldest among the Elven Leaders slapped the conference table angrily. "We are gathered here today to think of a solution on how to deal with this problem. If you don't have any good ideas, just shut up and behave yourselves!"

The old Elf's words echoed like thunder inside the conference room. He was none other than the Patriarch of the Rayleigh Clan, who had prophesied the coming of the Prince of Darkness.

Unlike the idiots of the council, he knew full well that the one they should worry more about was not the Heir of Darkness, but the Prince of Darkness. It was a prophecy that directly affected the Elves, more so than the prophecy of the Demon Race.

The Elder wanted to slap everyone in the room for thinking that William was the lesser evil compared to Felix, which made him very irritated. He would rather offend Felix, then offend William.

This was how sure he was that the one in the prophecy that would doom their race was William, not the green-haired Prince of the Demon Race.

"So, what does the Head of the Council suggest that we do?" one of the Elders asked. "We are willing to cooperate if it can help us overcome the crisis that we are facing right now."

All the Elves nodded as they focused their gazes on Aenarion, and waited for him to speak.

"Right now, we only have three choices," Aenarion replied. "The first one is to fight, and the other is to seek my Grandson's help. Naturally, this won't come cheap. Afterall, he might still be bearing a grudge against us after what happened in the Southern Continent. If you are all willing to pay the price, I can find a way to contact him and negotiate some terms."

Aenarion made sure to look at the elder who had voiced out that William's mother be sacrificed in order to appease the Demons. The Elder averted his gaze and shrank his neck in fear of being targeted by Aenarion after the council was over.

"And the third choice is?" one of the Elders asked with his hands clasped together. 

"The third choice is to lay down our arms and surrender," Aenarion replied. "I don't know what Fate will befall us if we choose the third option, but slavery is most likely the outcome of such a choice."

The Elves all quieted down as they glanced at each other. The three choices that Aenarion gave them had different consequences. After a round of voting, the Elves decided to just fight and align themselves with the Human race, who were also planning to fight against the Heir of Darkness as well as the God of Darkness and Chaos.

The Patriarch of the Rayleigh Clan kept his silence as he closed his eyes.

He could only hope that the Saintess, as well as his great, great, great, granddaughter, who was also Arwen's disciple, could convince the Dark Prince to have mercy on them all.