A horrific stench of blood and death filled the air, and ashes danced in the still wind. Bodies were strewn all over the place…and those were the lucky ones. The unlucky ones had been turned into minced meat, leaving behind shattered armour and strips of mashed up flesh.

Gaius looked at the scene quietly as he stood at what used to be the camp’s entrance. Misshapen animals — monsters, apparently — were feasting on the dead bodies inside, trampling on their remains. This entire place was once a forward camp for the Eastern Territories, but now, all that was left were bodies.

“The Southern Assembly did this,” Isabelle murmured, picking up a half-broken insignia. “And it seems that another nation was involved in this too.”

“Why…would they do such a thing? Why? Is it not enough that their invasion is going badly? Why would they kill their own allies? Do they really want another war? Was the previous decade not good enough? Did they not…” Gaius let out a howl, and the monsters stumbled away from him.

The broken gate came apart entirely as Gaius slammed a fist into it. “Why?”

A tsunami of grey flame erupted out of his small frame, flooding the camp of dead people. The monsters inside screeched for a second or two, before they turned into drifting ash, along with the bodies and anything else here. With that single gesture, Gaius had wiped out any evidence of a brutal battle. Any trace that a forward camp of the East existed at this very location had been incinerated to nothingness.

This was not justice. Gaius knew that much.

“If such an incident made its way back into the War Council, I’m almost certain that the East would declare war,” Gaius murmured, lowering his head at the spot where the camp used to be. “I’m sorry. For the sake of peace, justice cannot be meted out.”

He shook his head.

Isabelle held his right hand. “You’re taking on too much. Far too much. Is doing all this really worth it?”

Gaius reciprocated the gesture by squeezing her own hand really gently. “We’re going to be leaving the others behind. The least I should do is to make sure that I do not leave them behind in a chaotic world. You know that as well as I do.”

“You’re going to break at this rate.”

“I’m not. I’ll never break.” Gaius shook his head. “I’ll never bend. What use is there in watching over a war-torn world? If there’s no peace, then what’s the point in having the two of us watch over the Crying Abyss?”

“You cannot change the hearts of people,” Isabelle replied, her words gentle. “That’s just not possible. No matter how strong you are, you can’t do that. Even the Human God failed. The great gods could at most make people ignore certain issues and points, but something… integral to mortal nature, like conflict, is impossible. As long as they’re alive and have desires, conflict will always occur.”

“I know.” Gaius took a deep breath. “I know. I know what you mean. But at this rate…”

“Gaius.” Isabelle’s hands held on to his face. “I think you’ve been out here for too long. We haven’t returned to our lodgings and the others for three days. I haven’t been back for three days.”

“Three days?” Gaius shuddered. “It’s been three days?”

“Yes. I think you’re letting everything get to you.” Isabelle rubbed his head. “Let’s go back. Take a rest. No one can do everything, right? The others must be worried too. What if Nakama and La-Ti decide to leave the fortress and look for you?”

Gaius felt himself waver. Her words made a lot of sense; that was something he couldn’t deny. If he continued to stay here, the possibility that the kids and Xanadu would come wandering over to search was definitely more than zero.

Furthermore, deep within his heart, he could feel a seed of fatigue. For all his powers, there was little he could do to change anything. To do anything of substance. He didn’t know what caused the massacre here today, but Gaius was fairly certain that spite and other negative emotions didn’t play that big of a role. There was probably some real cause behind it, something like say, a stolen convoy.

“Alright,” said Gaius. “We’ll go back first. Have fun with the kids and check up on them. I think my heart really needs some healing too.”

Isabelle bobbed her head up and down. “I’m glad you came around to that line of thought. It’s important for us to stay strong. Taking a break or two isn’t going to detract from that.”

Gaius was still worried, however. Other than delivering supplies, he had been trying to put an end to small conflicts — the latter had been dealt with by him simply separating the concerned parties physically. Sometimes, he would arrive a moment too late, at which point he would simply force an end to the battle by unleashing his presence.

This was the first time that they were too late. To be fair, Isabelle couldn’t be paying attention to the Twilight Observer all day, and the little wristwatch-like artefact had its own range limits too.

“What’s wrong?” Isabelle prompted.

“Just worried about the possibility of more fights occurring while we aren’t here,” Gaius replied. “I—”

Isabelle pinched his cheek, interrupting his words. “Look. These people…they aren’t your responsibility. In fact, none of this is your responsibility at all. You are not obliged to burn yourself out here.”

She took a step forward. “Your responsibility is towards me. And the others. Not the world. Got it?”

Gaius met Isabelle’s eyes straight on. .“I will not leave Nakama and the others in a broken world. Nakama has been through the Second Extermination. That’s enough war for a lifetime. I will not let her live through another one.”

“You could just take her to the Crying Abyss—”

“But that won’t give her the normal life she needs,” Gaius replied, a sad smile on his face. “I’ve already dragged you into this mess.”

“At least someone’s self-aware.” Isabelle rubbed his cheeks. “You’re an idiot, you know.”

“Hey!”

“Good, you’re finally smiling!”