Gaius knelt down and picked up the badge. It was a product, of his time as a teacher of children on Earth’s slums. He’d taught children the way to survive, to fight, to read, and those who wanted to learn the arts of killing from him would receive this badge.

His head throbbed intensely as he fought to recall his time on Earth, but something had forcibly prevented him from doing so. It was a power that emanated a sensation so similar to the Divine Ladder, it may as well be the same. Anger welled up inside Gaius, but no matter how much he raged, the barrier of divine might stayed impervious.

After a few more minutes of fruitless attempts, Gaius kept the black name tag. Too many memories were lost for him to recall which of his students was the boy that had appeared in front of him just now, but now he had a name.

Yong Yue.

Gaius had taken in too many children of all sorts of nationalities over the years on Earth. But what might seem like an effortless endeavour on his part would very well be a life-changing opportunity for his students, who, before he took them in, lived a life of uncertainly and risk. Death and disease were the norm for the homeless and abandoned, after all. He wasn’t expecting any payback or reward for helping out these kids, especially not in another world.

He turned to regard the wooden pillar next. Most of them were empty, and those that weren’t were occupied by little gemstones, carved into animals and flowers. Gaius smiled faintly at the sight.

The silent Library now gave off a homely feeling. Shadows drifted around the place, sure, but they were as threatening to Gaius as a little worker ant was. The boy had half a mind to bring Nakama here, to live in what clearly was a haven and sanctuary. But he couldn’t…well, not until Nakama was fully unsealed and he himself found a way to ensure a steady food supply. And besides, the Congress definitely wouldn’t like it if he bailed on them like this.

Gaius paced around the room, lost in miscellaneous thoughts. Who was that person standing beside the Divine Ladder, right before it was destroyed? Why did he have such an intense hate for that person? And somehow, he had the feeling that the figure didn’t die from the destruction of the Divine Ladder. He just did.

Enemies — even if he didn’t know why that person was his enemy — never died easily, unless you personally cut their head off. And Gaius had the feeling that even this maxim might not even hold true in Orb. This was the kind of world where people might not die when they’re killed.

He looked around at the Library filled with only walking shadows.

Shadows…the word lingered in his mind, and he abruptly remembered. The number one guideline to Heritage — never be in a situation where the light of the firmament couldn’t touch you — had been broken by him, if he went by the conventional understanding of this sentence.

But so far, nothing had happened to him. Was his current safety connected to the secrets of the Library of Ancients? Gaius shook his head and left the Library. The entrance of the Library swung open as he neared it, revealing a lifeless field of ice and snow.

The army of snowpyres had disappeared, or more likely, scattered as the Library’s master passed on. All Gaius could see was death — corpses from snowpyres falling from fatal heights.

For a moment, he thought of dissecting them to retrieve the ether cores inside their bodies, but he didn’t feel like doing it. His heart was heavy, and all Gaius wanted to do was to return back to Heritage Basestation to rest. He turned around and looked at the abode of his now-deceased student.

His body rippled, turning transparent, as Gaius shot up into the skies. From afar, he could see individual Harvesters making their way to the Library of Ancients. They had probably discovered that the army stationed there was no more, and wanted to see if there were any major changes to this landmark of Heritage. Gaius didn’t care about them, and instead of stopping them, he flew towards the rift that allowed passage between Heritage and the Intersection.

The wind’s howling drove him into a deeper introspection. His presence had most likely ended the war decisively, in favour of the East-West Alliance. The destruction of the Divine Ladder had ruined an entire city and the inhabitants within it, and although the Alliance forces had also been caught up in the destruction, they were comparatively unharmed.

Gaius blinked. He just realised that he didn’t know what the name of that city was, and why was the Divine Ladder there. But it wouldn’t take long before the Southern Continent sued for peace…and then what? How would the victorious invaders treat the beastfolk in Ark City? Or would they leave this wartorn land to its own devices, until they regained some form of vitality and economic clout? The fact of the matter was that the beastfolk were never mentioned as a reason behind the war, which was more than worrying enough for the Congress.

A roar roused him from his thoughts, and his barrier lit up as a heavy, blunt object smashed into it. Gaius turned his head, but the moment the barrier shuddered, he’d remembered who the assailant was.

The odd-looking snowpyre, who was a cut above the rest. What Gaius didn’t know, however, was why this monster was insistent on attacking him, and as it drew near again, his body jerked unnaturally to the side.

Time slowed down as the human and monster slid past each other. Gaius could see the vivid emotions on its face. Even though snowpyres didn’t have eyeballs, Gaius could see its bared teeth, a promise of hatred and anger. Steam was rising from its open mouth, and within the faint glow of the icy fires in its skull, Gaius could somehow feel a tinge of emotion from it.

The moment passed, and time resumed its normal flow as Gaius sped up. Far below him, the silver-streaked snowpyre howled, the dismal soul carrying across the vast, mountain ranges of Heritage. The boy couldn’t tell what emotions were hidden inside the howl, but it was painfully obvious that he had a part in stirring up these emotions.

Gaius glanced downwards, at the source of the howl, and briefly imagined the scene of the snowpyre howling, its head looking upwards at the murderer of hundreds of its kin.

He sniffed lightly, and sped away.