The rest of Thursday flew by as Gaius tested the Auspices of Concealment and the nameless bracelet he had obtained rigorously. Both were particularly impressive, given that they had no set uses, but the latter was even more so, given that no energy was needed whatsoever to activate it. One just needed to press down on a certain emerald, and it would allow flight. The direction of flying was controlled through the bracelet itself, like a joystick that Gaius had saw people on Earth use. It was intuitive, and Nakama would probably familiarise herself with its use after one to two tries. She might end up wanting to fly longer, at which point Gaius would have to point out that flying with an Engine or a Dynamo was an entirely different sensation altogether. As for the Auspices of Concealment, Gaius had managed to change his face and voice, but nothing could be done about the body. At most, it could increase or decrease the skin tone and quality, but other than serving as a skin cleanser, Gaius would only be able to pass himself off as another child. It wasn’t really useful in Heritage Basestation, since the only person smaller than Gaius was Nakama, As expected, after Nakama came back from her lectures on snow sculpting, she’d taken to the nameless bracelet like a fish to water, leaving a worried Gaius watching over her as she soared up into the sky. For one, the time limit on the flight ability was strict, and secondly, the little girl’s eyes were all shiny and gleaming when Gaius explained the bracelet to her. Fortunately, she’d come down ten seconds before the ability expired, her face pouting somewhat at the fact that fun time was over. After kicking a small, cute tantrum at no one in particular, Nakama had returned into the tent. “So, Nalus,” said Gaius, turning his attention to the Campmaster’s son, who had just arrived as Nakama touched down, “you here to ask for more tips for snowmen building?” “No, but rather to talk to you about something.” “Oh?” Gaius turned to regard Nalus. There was an odd quality to his voice, and the dark sky of the Intersection wasn’t helping much to illuminate Nalus’ expression. “I just wanted to ask about your thoughts about the information that the Last Star, Nox, brought to us, and the decisions that the Congress subsequently made,” said Nalus. “I understand that you also went to the meeting earlier today, which must have given you certain insights. Can you share them with me?” “Why me in particular?” “You’re a human, Gaius.” The Campmaster’s son replied squarely. “A human child at that. It’s very possible that your lines of thought are quite different from those in the higher ups.” The little boy narrowed his eyes. This wasn’t the first time he’d heard of such a thing, but most of these remarks were rather offhanded, perfunctory in nature. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then said, “Campmaster Magnus.” “What about him?” “He asked you to sound me out, am I right? Maybe he tried to ask Major Degurechaff about his opinions, but since the major’s very cognizant about his standing…” “The major naturally answered with all due sincerity and relevance, leaving us all baffled at the end of it,” Nalus affirmed, his head bobbing up and down. “He’s a skilled one at navigating a sea of racial hatreds, and I can only admire him for it. But it is times like this that I find that ultra-diplomatic stance of his very trying.” Noting the personal pronoun that Nalus used, Gaius replied, “You have to look at it from his viewpoint. He’s a human in a key position. Any words from him, unintended or otherwise, can be easily construed to fuel accusations of betrayal. Especially given that you wanted him to talk about the problems that might arise from the way the Congress handled the Last Star’s words.” “Which is why I came to you, a human child who doesn’t need to care that much about his words.” “Figured as much. So, what do you want to ask me about, specifically?” “The chances of the Southern remnants actually being…remnants.” Gaius raised an eyebrow. It would have been rather impressive were it a teenager or an adult, but the little boy couldn’t help but wonder if he just seemed cute. “You’re suspecting that the South wasn’t harmed at all?” “The Campmaster can’t dismiss this possibility. The two Paragons believe the Last Star, but that’s an assumption we cannot afford to make,” said Nalus. “The Warmaster, however, has the final say on this matter.” “The Last Star’s words do not seem to be a lie,” replied Gaius. Of course, it was because he’d seen…and caused the destruction of the Divine Ladder and the Southern Capital himself, but even without seeing their destruction personally, the actions of the Southern forces wouldn’t make sense if they were lying. It would be the height of insanity if the Southern forces left their capital undefended to crush Ark City, given the propensity for people in general to not return things like cities. Rubbing his nose, Gaius tried to reason out the Campmaster’s actions, but nothing came to mind. Glancing at Nalus’ expectant face, he said, “There is little reason for the South to leave their cities undefended in favour of crushing Ark City. Even if they were really working with the East-West alliance and our reports of the war is fake, leaving half of the Southern Continent undefended will not fly with any politician whatsoever.” “Nothing short of insanity, huh?” Nalus echoed. “Is my answer just that disappointing?” asked Gaius. “It’s not as detailed as the Warmaster’s analyses, but the essence is there.” Nalus shook his head. “Rather, I cannot believe that you managed to give such an answer, but I guess war and poverty does have its ways.” The lecturer folded his arms. “In that case, what exactly is the issue?” “Everything and nothing, I guess.” The Campmaster’s son shook his head. “It is the job of the Campmaster to provide alternative viewpoints and contingency plans, but my father is unable to come up for the rationale behind anything that flies in the face of our so-called facts.” “Then why not plan for the worst-case scenario? Like, a repeat of the Second Extermination?” Nalus frowned. “Unfeasible. Without an adequate motive, we’re unable to properly create a worst-case scenario.” “Unless there’s no worst-case scenario in this for us.” “Big words, Gaius.” He turned away from Gaius, and walked away. “It’s a habit that my father and I try not get into.” He raised his hand in parting, and the little lecturer watched as he vanished into the darkness.