“Say,” Gaius muttered, “do you think that the world will be in a state of unprecedented peace and prosperity if we win this war?”

The ugly scene had burned itself onto his mind, even though they’d only spent a minute or so looking at it. It was a stark reminder that there were people who celebrated the Human God’s death, as well as those who had jumped at the opportunity that was the Second Extermination. The Preserver might not have acted with the issues of race in mind, but Gaius knew full well that there were people who had irrational prejudices against people of other races.

Heck, on Earth, unreasonable and foolish ideas had happened between humans based on skin colour alone. Differences were fuel for irrational fears — just as how that had held true for Earth, so it did for Orb too. No matter what, the racial cleavages on Orb, in the truest sense of the word, had been exacerbated by the Second Extermination.

It was depressing to think about it.

“Life’s not a story, Gaius.” Isabelle held his hand. “There’s no ending where everyone lives happily ever after.”

Gaius clenched his fist. Even with all his power, there was nothing he could do to change this world. Racial disputes weren’t just the only problem either. In the wake of the Conference of the Four, he had heard that semi-divinities had been elevated in terms of rights. They were far more privileged than their weaker counterparts; this was the only way the rulers of Orb could justify their exploitation of mortals.

Would these people, having tasted the fruit of privilege, be willing to relinquish it after the war? With observable “justice” on their side due to their immense contributions in the Great War — the term now used to refer to the ongoing war — would they really be amenable to a pre-war state of affairs?

Or would a world where might makes right finally rear its ugly head up high?

“I suppose it’s a good thing that I can think about post-war issues while we’re still fighting it,” said Gaius. “Probably reflects my optimism regarding this war, doesn’t it?”

“To be fair, Xanadu has somewhat succeeded in changing the future,” Isabelle replied. “The Demon Sovereign isn’t as strong as the Demon Sovereign of her time, and the Five Lands are actually prepared for this war. Isn’t the Heaven-cleaving Fortress proof of it?”

“Is that so?” Gaius shook his head. “Somehow, I have the feeling that if the Five Lands hadn’t performed this well in the opening stages of this war, we would have been far better united. As it is, there’s space for individual disputes. Maybe the Five Lands are also trying to one-up each other by sabotaging each other.”

“That’s idiocy,” Isabelle replied, before pausing for a second or two. “Right?”

“Who knows?”

Looking out towards the windows, Gaius watched as the aerial forces of the Five Lands split apart into their individual groups and loyalties. Thanks to the sudden intervention by the Demon Sovereign and the Sentinel of Space, today’s battle had been brought to a premature end, which probably accounted for why they were retreating in good order.

“A gold coin for your thoughts,” said Isabelle.

“That’s quite the value placed on my thoughts,” Gaius replied, a smile on his face. “I was just pondering the effectiveness of military-enforced cohesion if applied to the Hall of Guardians.”

Isabelle thought through his words for a moment, and then shook her head. “Why are you thinking about that? It’s probably an interesting topic, but who’s going to enforce cohesion like that? You?”

“I was just thinking about it,” Gaius replied. “The Guardians would probably chafe at the thought of being ordered around like normal soldiers. And then they’ll all flee en masse. After that, we’ll lose the war.”

“That’s a horrifying thought.” Isabelle flicked his forehead lightly. “Best not to have it, then.”

“Mhm.” As he let out a small sigh, Isabelle leaned towards him and hugged his left arm. Gaius could tell that Isabelle was trying to cheer him up, and he responded by pulling her closer. It was those little things that made all the difference at times.

It didn’t take long before they arrived at the hallway where their lodgings were. For some reason, however, the joyful chatter that had sent them off earlier had intensified to the point that Gaius and Isabelle could both hear it from afar.

“What’s going on?”

“It seems like there’s a party or something going on,” Isabelle replied.

“A party? In the Heaven-cleaving Fortress, where the Five Lands and the Wildlands are fighting?” Gaius pursed his lips. “That sounds really weird.”

“I know.”

The two exchanged glances, and then flew over to the end of the hallway. With a gentle push, Gaius and Isabelle peeked into Xanadu’s room, only to see a rather modest group of people sitting around and playing Monopoly.

It was one of the many games Gaius had brought back from the Southern Assembly’s otherworlder toymaker, Flynn.

That wasn’t the main point, though. Other than Nakama, La-Ti and Xanadu, there were now three more strangers that were sitting together with them. All of them were teenagers, around Gaius’ own age, and he couldn’t help but feel a tad surprised at such youthful Knights.

His glance drifted over to Isabelle, and his surprise faded away. Before Gaius came along, Isabelle was actually the youngest Knight in the whole of the Five Lands.

“What’s wrong?” Isabelle asked.

“No, nothing.” He glanced at the table full of kids playing, and let out a small smile. “Come on, let’s go back to our own room. Let the kids have their fun.”

“We aren’t all that older, though.”

Gently shutting the door behind them, Gaius reached out to poke her cheek lightly. “You know my plans for Nakama and La-Ti, so that’s how it is. To be honest, she has managed to wean off her dependence on me, but the more bosom friends she makes, the better.”

Guiding her to their room, the Abyss Sovereign stopped at the door and looked wistfully at Xanadu’s room.

“Can’t bear to?”

“I have to, though.” He smiled and walked inside.