From afar, Gaius could see small dots headed towards the passage that governed movement between Heritage and the Basestation. Harvesters were beginning to return, but some of them were clearly injured, judging from their gait.

After returning from the Library of Ancients, Gaius spent the rest of the time digging up gems and building snowmen. He had enough of snowpyres for the week, to say the least. He didn’t want to be in a situation where a vengeful snowpyre caught him off-guard while he was harvesting some ether cores from more bodies of its kin. He’d briefly struggled with the prospect of killing off that extra-special snowpyre — there had to be something special about it, since it was so strong — but ultimately gave up on that idea.

He’d spent far too much time killing, and Gaius was still trying to comprehend what the Library’s master — Yong Yue — had said to him. It was cryptic enough that Gaius immediately thought back to other works of fiction on Earth, where someone important would speak in riddles, citing the fact that,” The secrets of Heaven are not be revealed.”

And given how illogical this world had been, Gaius wouldn’t put it past whatever laws this world had to do a similar thing. Such a restriction, and others like it, might be why none of the elemental great gods ever came down in person to do stuff. Even the Human God, who fought in person in his legends, stopped appearing after the demons were exiled.

Furthermore, Gaius hadn’t really paid much attention at that time, but he did absorb what essentially was a small sun into his body, no? Sure, nothing had happened on his way back, but it was utterly inconceivable that there would be no effects on his body in doing so. Of course, knowing that it would probably help him in the long run was one thing, but he couldn’t afford to underestimate any short-term problems too. The last thing he wanted was a bout of random energy shooting out from his bum when he was fighting off another snowpyre.

After making sure that the Stellar Core’s camouflage ability was working, Gaius began to descend from the mountaintop gently. He’d been squatting at this particular mountain, which provided a clear line of sight to the blue rift that permitted entry and exit from Heritage. As he hopped from rock to rock, Gaius could see a couple of Harvesters ripple into existence, clearly shrouded or made invisible by some artefact. They looked rather bedraggled, and Gaius discovered a happy-looking Mai as he inspected the group closer.

It would seem that they…or at least she, had made some gains from this week’s Harvest. Gaius hopped off one last rock and jumped onto the ground in front the group, before posing for a moment. He’d always wanted to do that, but on Earth, posing right after jumping down wasn’t exactly a good idea for any pragmatic, self-respecting assassin.

A second of silence passed, and then some awkward clapping streamed in.

“Hi, Lecturer Gaius.” Mai stepped forward and curtsied. “I sometimes forget that you’re a kid…”

“Ahem.” Gaius looked at the small group. “How was my pose?”

“Ten out of ten, sir.” The rabbit-eared girl flashed a thumbs-up. “How was your Harvest?”

The young boy thought back to the small pile of ether cores he’d picked up, the events at the Library and the many snowpyres corpses he’d left there, and replied, “I could have done better.”

Indeed. Gaius didn’t want to dissect these snowpyres, given that others were probably loitering around the Library. If others saw him, it would be too easy to assassinate his character.

All they needed to do was to spread the rumours that Gaius had been mutilating corpses, and given the beastfolk culture of respecting combatants, he wouldn’t have a fun time afterwards. The dead had to be shown respect, even if there were enemies, which was why Ark City had apparently started work on burying the fallen of humans and beastfolk alike recently.

Of course, the Congress would probably start up farming efforts in the places where human corpses were buried, but that was their only use. After all, who would pay respect to these corpses in Ark City? Burying them with some modicum of respect was extravagant enough, especially when the citizens of Ark City remembered that these humans were responsible for the deaths of beastfolk soldiers.

Gaius himself couldn’t even recall an instance in which opposing groups on Earth took it upon themselves to bury their enemies’ bodies. Partially because he usually avoided the Middle East, but also due to the fact that news in general never covered anything remotely humanely if they could focus on death and taxes.

The lecturer returned to a normal standing position, and asked, “Was there any problems today for you lot? The snowpyre army has dispersed, so…”

Mai blinked. “They did?”

Her followers exchanged quiet whispers.

Gaius narrowed his eyes. “What happened?”

The others exchanged glances, and from their eyes, Gaius could feel a touch of…guilt? The lecturer sharpened his senses, but that moment of weakness had vanished.

The sky lit up as Gaius fired off an ignition sigil. “Tell me. Now.”

“Mai.” He turned towards the rabbit-eared girl. “Explain.”

The snow around the young boy cracked, and his body began to float off the ground. Gaius was now looking down on the group from above, and as his stare intensified, the weak-willed ones began to waver. All they needed was one final push, which the lecturer was more than happy enough to give them.

This time, a blanket of fire blotted out a great deal of Heritage’s sky, and his shadow on the ground darkened, casting a gloom over the group. Gaius didn’t say anything as he floated, his arms simply crossed as he gazed down on the small group before him.

His heart skipped a bit at the sight of the inordinately large wall of flame above it, and it took nearly everything he had to not show surprise and evade immediately. It wouldn’t look good if he were to show any fear at this juncture, and instead of pondering over the increased might of his sigils, Gaius opted to roll with it.

Blood drained out of the faces of Mai’s followers, and Mai herself swallowed audibly. Gaius could see her eyes flicker in shock, before they clouded over with a complicated emotion. He’d crossed a Rubicon of sorts, revealing a portion of his strength like this.

But there was something within the boy that compelled him to act this way, the set of instincts that had accompanied him for his entire life. Gaius couldn’t give a reason why he felt compelled to act that way, but he’d been doing that for a long time.

It had never failed him. He wasn’t going to stop today.