“Surviving when outnumbered, eh?”

“It is rather heartening to know that you are able to see the sun for what it is,” replied Gaius, a faint smile on his face. “We don’t want their first practice in fighting outnumbered be in Heritage, surrounded not by other Harvesters and medics on duty but by snowpyres and energy monsters. You beastfolk place quite a lot of emphasis on honour…but the monsters in Heritage don’t even know that word.”

“Sounds like your first foray was much more than you let on,” the senator noted.

Gaius glanced at the sleeping Nakama. How she was able to sleep in such a din was beyond the young boy’s comprehension, but at least Gaius wouldn’t have qualms telling the man beside him some of his experiences.

“I spent most of my time in Heritage fighting off a few hundred snowpyres,” said Gaius. “Then something happened faraway, and the snowpyre army moved towards it.”

The senator hissed softly. “Looks like something really valuable appeared there.”

Gaius watched a teenage boy, as someone twice his size grabbed him and slammed him on the ground. The young lecturer made a few hand signals, and the medic ran in to check up on his condition, as Gaius himself walked over.

“Are you alright, Harvester?”

“S-sir.” The Harvester’s face flushed. “Yes, I am.”

“Good.” Gaius’ reply was pitiless, only tinged with a slight hint of encouragement. “Remember, falling on the floor makes you very vulnerable. Even if you are grabbed, try to avoid a situation where most of your body makes contact with the ground. As for the three of you, that’s some fine teamwork.”

The diminutive lecturer checked the fallen Harvester once more for wounds, and then walked back to Senator Alexandre to continue their conversation. “I recall hearing that their eventual destination was the Library of Ancients. What’s inside that so-called Library?”

“Supposedly, that Library is the cumulative effort of sages, who left their knowledge in a place for other sages to peruse. There’s a hieroglyphic sign there, which a few other sages can read and therefore enter.” The senator rubbed his nose. “We’re not talking about random people here, no. The sages we’re talking about are people who left their mark on the world, geniuses of a century or even of a millennium. But the Four Continents…even the Central Circle have failed to breach the place. It’s one of the great mysteries of the Five Lands.”

“Maybe the demons might be successful,” the senator joked. “If beasts and humans can’t, maybe demons can.”

“Then we better not let demons get into Heritage, then,” replied Gaius. “Can’t have those buggers stealing our knowledge, eh?”

“Well, demons are practically myths now. If not for the Holy Temple’s records, and its dissemination to the other Continents, they might have long vanished from our minds.” The senator laughed.

Gaius pursed his lips as he watched the one-sided beatdowns continue. Fortunately, none of the Harvesters were willing to be the guinea pig to test his words, and Gaius’ attention turned towards the Library of Ancients. A thought struck him. “Senator, by chance, are those hieroglyphs the same as that sign hanging on the tall tower near the Concoction Hall?”

“Tower?” The senator thought for a moment. “Oh, the Fool’s Tower. Yes, it should be.”

In that case…is it possible that the Library of Ancients is a ruin left behind by the other Summoned I hypothesised about? Gaius glared at a particular group as he mulled on that thought, and the three predators redoubled their efforts. After all, even the average person from Earth, or another advanced world, would be well-placed to make immense developments in culture or industry.

Which can therefore account for the multifarious types of names that existed in Orb. After all, these “sages” would definitely promote their own culture, consciously or otherwise, the foremost of which would be names. In fact, there was a high chance that languages other than English might have proliferated in areas that were ignored by the overlords of each continent.

Whatever the case might be, the Library of Ancients would be something that Gaius wanted to explore. He wasn’t particularly attached to Earth; the only family he had now was Nakama and Nakama alone. But he wanted to fill in the huge blanks that remained within the memory of his personal life — fighting techniques, other auxiliary skills, experience…and the way he passed away.

Only his soul came to Orb, which meant that Gaius had died on Earth.

And a group of four were about to die, if they didn’t start beating each other up properly again. A particular group had been blatantly play-acting in front of him for the past one minute, and it just so happpened that Gaius was thinking about his own death. The air shrieked as Gaius’ figure rocketed towards a burly Harvester, cracking a duelling ring when Gaius appeared in mid-air and stamped on the target’s shoulder.

The Harvester’s knees gave way, and Gaius hopped down from what probably was a broken shoulder. Staring into a pair of eyes filled with fear, Gaius poked the burly teenager’s nose. “I told you that I will know. Don’t let this happen again. Am I clear?”

The boy nodded frantically.

“Good. Now get your ass to the medic.” Gaius turned to the others. “As for the rest of you…I’ll be your opponent.”

A grin appeared on his face, and in the next moment, Gaius swatted at a teenage girl with a backhand strike, who collapsed onto the cracked ground, grasping at her stomach.

Gender was nothing in a fight. And well, sometimes when he was not in combat too. His left fist shot upwards, intercepting another boy’s punch, and the boy screamed as Gaius’ fist smashed into the inner side of his elbow. His leg lashed out, and there was only one more Harvester left.

The remaining person broke into a run immediately, but after two steps, he keeled over, unconscious. Gaius’ knee was still raised upwards, and the little lecturer pondered whether to step on the poor boy or not for a second.

“I didn’t recall giving you guys an order to stop, did I?” Gaius said. The other Harvesters had stopped fighting to watch Gaius take care of the three, but as his words spread through the air, the fighting began anew, this time with greater ferocity.

“Bruutal, Lecturer Gaius.”

“Playing bad cop is good for the students,” replied Gaius. “If they aren’t happy, they can find me afterwards.”

Usually, snow would dance when the time came for Advanced Combat’s practical training. Today, however, saw three miniature hurricanes of snowflakes form, which lasted all the way until the sky darkened.