The Erased History

Something was starting to get to him.

Xiao Yang was really starting to get to him.

He found that the frustration and helplessness he felt toward his companions were far greater than what he felt toward his enemies.

What could he even do about that?

Xiao Yang raised his hand. Under the watchful eyes of the many heroic spirits, a glimmer of golden light appeared.

"Hope."

Many things could deceive you, but an Authority could not.

As a gathering of concepts, whether you sincerely practiced it or merely put on an act for the sake of power, as long as you still wanted to wield an Authority's power, you could no longer turn your back on it.

That was why Authorities were called the gods' leashes.

Of course, things weren't actually so absolute or extreme.

After all, quite a few Evil Gods had twisted their Authorities.

They twisted courage into slaughter, happiness into desire, health into disease, and knowledge into a frenzied craving.

But Xiao Yang clearly wasn't one of them. The Hope Authority he held high shone with a warm, brilliant golden light that wasn't blinding in the least.

It was so pure as to be inconceivable. Even the Gods of Justice, who had practiced their creeds for ages, probably couldn't manifest an Authority purer than his.

Xiao Yang hadn't been chosen by the Authority, nor had he chosen it. The Authority had come into being for him.

Once the Hope Authority was raised high above his head, his allegiance became plain for all to see.

The hazy Valkyrie lowered her Rusted Longsword. She was the only one among these ancient heroic spirits who still retained her intelligence. At her gesture, one rusted weapon after another clattered to the ground, and silence fell over the scene once more.

Xiao