Washing eyeball bits off one’s body and clothes was a really novel, if utterly disgusting, process. Even though he didn’t wade into a pool of gunky white mass, just the bits that were affected were bad enough. After dematerialising the clothes on his upper torso, which were a product of the Formless Pauldrons, glops of white jelly fell into the sink…but they didn’t go down into the pipe.

Which, of course, necessitated Gaius to physically break apart the clunky dollops. He couldn’t quite use his qi here either, since an accident would destroy the sink, the pipe and the drainage system it was connected to.

Stifling his disgust, Gaius forced the gloopy bits into the drainage, washed his hands five times over, and then sat around moping over his fate.

“Eww.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Gaius replied to the voice. “Eww.”

“Would the Demon God also grow lots of eyeballs during the war?” Kolya asked, his voice apprehensive. “If so, I don’t think I’m entering the frontlines.”

“I think he might. But that’s a problem for the gods,” Gaius replied. “Mere mortals don’t need to have the fortune of having their arms stuck into gloopy white jelly.”

Gaius sniffed. “Gloopy white jelly that stinks.”

“I heartily agree with your assessment, young Gaius.” Kolya had a grin on his face. “Unfortunately — and you might agree with me — you don’t seem to qualify as a mere mortal anymore.”

Looking around carefully, Gaius turned his eyes towards the Pinnacle. He wasn’t sure about the emotion in his eyes right now, but it was probably something rather dark, since Kolya had flinched from his gaze. “What did they say?”

“Everyone wants to know how a Knight has the combat capability of a Demigod’s physical body,” Kolya replied.

Hmm? Gaius narrowed his eyes, but he didn’t make any comment about it. From what he could tell, everyone clearly thought that the presence of a Divine Territory was the hallmark of a Demigod, but since he didn’t have one…

It was a good misunderstanding, however.

“Maybe it’s a…Unique Skill?” Gaius ventured.

“Ahh. Smooth. Nice and evasive, like a politician.” Kolya shrugged. “You’ve learnt well. The ability to seemingly commit, and yet not do so, is key in politics. However, everyone has the right to privacy. I will not probe, although you can bet your ass that the others definitely will.”

“They can try,” Gaius replied.

Washing his hands again, he followed Kolya back to a room, which, now that he paid more attention to, looked very familiar.

“This room…”

“Oh, you finally noticed,” said Kolya. “I suppose taking out the Human God did quite a bit to you, eh? Yeah, it’s the same room that Xanadu spoke to us in. I figured that giving it some status by hosting an informal gathering between mortals and gods would help in making it a historical relic.”

He paused. “I could also charge entry fees too. ‘Come over and try out the food the great gods ate!’. Things like that are good for business.”

“Doesn’t that mean that we’re in Twilight Elysium?” Gaius asked. “Is it really a good idea to let great gods of all people into the Mortal Light Dynasty?”

“Don’t worry,” Thasvia’s voice floated over. “We have a healthy amount of self-respect. We aren’t going to trash this place.”

“See?”

“Right.” Gaius returned to his seat, and was about to plonk down on his chair when he caught sight of white chunky goo on it. How he had tolerated it earlier was not something Gaius was going to ponder for any more than was necessary. “Um. Can I have a new chair?”

Everyone craned their heads to look over, before wincing as one.

“Y-yeah, sure.” Kolya wasn’t exactly looking at the mess. “Let me get another one for you. As for this…maybe I’ll throw it out or something.”

“You can’t do that,” Queen Hyperion cut in. “Aren’t you trying to make this place a historical relic? You can just leave it here and call it the remains of the Human God.”

“White gloopy jelly. The remains of the Human God.” Kolya took a deep breath. “I might not be friends with the Preserver, and I might not agree with him in regards to just about everything, but even I think that’s hitting below the belt.”

“But it is the truth, in a sense.” Queen Hyperion snorted, and then turned to Gaius. “And you, you just flushed down remains of the Human God into presumably the sewerage system of Twilight Elysium. Are you a demon?”

“My Queen, I don’t think demons actually flush things down a toilet,” Archduchess Gaia murmured.

“Oh, but they do,” Kolya replied. “Normal demons — not the primals marching against us in the next few months — are as civilised and as normal as everyone else in this room.”

“See?”

“That wasn’t what I meant, Your Majesty, but I suppose it will be a waste of my time in talking about this.” The archduchess closed her eyes lightly. “Let us return to the discussion at hand.”

“What a bore.”

Gaius and Pinnacle Kolya exchanged glances, and then turned to look at Thasvia, who was flitting around Rahwei’s unmoving form and stirring up little whirlwinds on the Life-Carver’s head. At the same time, Liamar was using little blocks of red-hot lava to build buildings on Rahwei’s shoulders.

“The great gods are rather…”

“Interesting?” Kolya completed Gaius’ sentence.

“Not exactly how I’d put it, but I guess it works.” Gaius looked at the three great gods, who were having fun, and then wondered if the Five Lands could be as united as them. “Right, I’m going off. Isabelle and Nakama are probably worried about me by now.”

“Can I drop by?”

“No. Galina’s going to rip my ear off if I say yes.”

“Can we drop by, then?”

“No. Isabelle’s going to squish my cheeks into flatbread if I say yes.”

“You have it tough, don’t you?”

Gaius snorted. “Only when I’m dealing with you. Otherwise, everything’s great. Alright, if that’s all, I’m going to take my leave now. This Hall of Guardians thing…I’ll think about it. Thank you for helping Xanadu out.”

“My help’s not over yet,” Kolya replied. “Keep a lookout for the news.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

Breathing out slowly, Gaius called upon his Blink, and vanished on the spot.