The trek to Interregnum passed without much incident, save for a few monsters showing up. Fortunately, they weren’t anything a few shots from Aziz’s Straight Shot couldn’t handle, but he had no doubt that those unarmed, inexperienced-at-fighting godkith would have paid a heavy price to bring those those monstrosities.

The sun and moon wheeled across the sky over and over again, but the convoy of around two hundred thousand godkith continued on without pause. From what Aziz had gathered from these tireless beings, they were used to life without rest, to the point that a standing order for them to go lie down on their beds at night was required.

“Feels a bit odd,” said Aziz.

“What is?” Marie asked.

“Well, we’re doing something like this. I know you said it before, but this whole thing of leading a populace to some promised land and protecting them on the way really feels like a creation myth or something,” said Aziz. “Considering that the godkith are staring at us with what seems to be reverence…”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah. You know, wasn’t there a certain marshal who had the uncanny ability to draw people towards her? Yeah, I’m pretty sure something similar is happening right now,” said Aziz. “After all, the two of us are acting like what a god would do. Protecting the people and bringing them to a paradise…comparatively speaking, anyway.”

“Hoo boy.”

“In a world like this, where we can fly and fire out bolts of light…it’s a bit odd to say this, but to the godkith, who don’t happen to have any such ability, we probably do look like gods. Small ones. Weak ones. But still gods.”

“Like Liamar’s familiar spirits or something.”

Aziz nodded slowly. “That’s the point I’m making. Like it or not, our actions will likely shape the destiny and future of these godkith.”

“It’s a heavy responsibility, or…we could simply not show up after bringing them over to Interregnum,” said Marie.

“That’s a pretty good idea.”

“Right?” Marie nodded rapidly, and then glanced down at the long trail of people. “I’m quite sure that we can leave something like a final order, and then make a graceful escape. Something like ‘Live on, and grow as a compassionate people’. That should work, right?”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” said Aziz. “They’ll remember our last instructions and carry them out. Maybe decades down the road, they’ll repopulate the Southern Continent, and then eventually branch out into the rest of Orb.”

The two chuckled, and Aziz glanced down at the clueless godkith, who had no idea that they were going to be abandoned once they arrived at Interregnum. Of course, he knew that the two of them weren’t really suited to be leading an entire group of people, especially when he was a cultural foreigner. It was best to let them do things their own way, and besides, Aziz and Marie already had a cottage of their own. Living there would be good enough.

None of them were hedonists, after all.

Eventually, the huge convoy arrived at the now-abandoned city. The trek northwards, to the capital city of the Republic, had led them through emptied cities and towns. Some of the godkith had settled in those areas, but generally, most of the godkith chose to take up residence at Interregnum.

“Well, that’s it, I guess.” Marie watched as the senior godkiths began to assign living areas. Administrative work like taking down names, assigning all sorts of things and the like had unfolded on their own, despite the fact that Aziz and Marie hadn’t taught them anything like these. Rather, it was clear that some of the older godkiths had their own way of understanding their surroundings, like an innate ability or something, and they were beginning to pick up the many intricacies running a society needed.

“Job here is done. We’ve managed to bring a bunch of people over to the best place they can live in. Good job, marshal.”

“We didn’t do much, though,” said Marie. “But this way, the Republic will live on in spirit. They’re already beginning to adapt to a new way of life. I suppose Pauline would be happy to know that her abandoned infrastructure is still being put to good use and maintained all around.”

“…Either that, or she would be pissed at how people are using public infrastructure and tax monies without any contract or payment whatsoever,” said Aziz.

“Yeah, that sounds more likely,” Marie conceded. “Wow. Hopefully, Pauline won’t ever find out that a bunch of people have now taken up residence in her capital city.”

Aziz nodded, and then the smile on his face faded. Unlike Marie, he had been staying put for the last six months to shore up the defences of the house they had been staying in. Rather than living in the capital, the two of them had found a little cottage at the outskirts of a non-descript town, where the reality of being alone wasn’t all that obvious.

Cottages had thin walls.

Monsters could ram through thin walls. Therefore, a result of his impeccable logic, the best way to protect the place and to prevent nuisances would be to make thick, sturdy walls.

Either that, or to move to a larger town or city.

Shaking his head, Aziz looked down at the abandoned capital city, and felt the same, numbing sorrow in his heart all over again. There was something saddening about the absence of the masses he once used to see, and it was also a reminder of the Abyss Sovereign’s actions.

“Maybe we should pen down the whole thing, from start to end,” Aziz muttered.

“What?”

As that idea took root in his heart, Aziz glanced at Marie, letting out a long sigh. “Something to record the events of the past year. The reason behind this disaster. How a young man, who saw the hopelessness in this world and sought to change it, changed Orb forever. Killing untold numbers in the war to end all wars, he created a new world and brought everyone over.”

“For the godkith?”

“You could put it that way, yes. The two of us remain to commemorate those who were killed in action, those who never found solace. The Abyss Sovereign sought to erase the past by bringing everyone into a new world, but those that fell in the previous wars won’t be remembered much. We can’t have that, can we?”

Aziz nodded.

What this new world needed was a record. A history of the Orb that had been destroyed half a year ago, written by what essentially were the survivors of this disaster. After all, no one knew what had happened to those who entered Celestia — did they truly find their paradise there?

Aziz didn’t know, but at the very least, penning these records down would be of great use to the people who came afterwards. Furthermore, the existence of a utopia like Celestia could act as a guiding light too, but they would need to settle these issues.

“In that case,” said Marie, “we should stay in Interregnum for the next few years. We’ll dig out every inch of information the Republic has on Gaius. After that, we’ll head to the North and do the same. We’ll compile the history behind this mass…departure for a new paradise, and then disseminate them amongst the populace.”

“That sounds like a good plan. After all, people are prone to war. If we can tell them the horrors of war, and how it drove a single person to do something as drastic as this so-called salvation, we might be able to dampen conflict,” said Aziz. “We’ll write a record and collect evidence.”

“It would be a bit biased, but if we can crush the seeds of conflict like this, I’m sure the kid won’t mind. And besides, his salvation is quite similar to an apocalypse. We could rewrite it a bit. War…too much war would lead to a phenomenon in which all life would be wiped out, with only a small group of people left,” said Marie. “The mechanism behind this would be a depletion of life and resources.”

Aziz nodded. “That sounds like a framework we can build up on. We can also make use of our newfound status in the eyes of the godkith to guide them.”

“Yes, exactly.”

The two of them discussed the specifics for a few more minutes, before descending to meet up with the leaders of the godkith once more. As they touched down on the ground, these leaders knelt on the ground, genuflecting before the duo.

“You may rise,” Marie commanded, her words a lovely soprano. “Return to your duties. I need to converse with her for a moment.”

“Y-yes, Lord.”

Aziz noted the term of address that the godkith used, and then shook his head inwardly. It was a term of address that the familiar spirits used to address their creator, but the godkith were clearly less restrained in their choice of words.

As the two of them approached a certain casket, the casket slid open and a dying Paragon-rank familiar spirit sat up. She looked at the two of them in silence, and then lowered her head. “Thank you.”

“It was nothing much for us,” said Marie. “Liamar’s godkith are now safe and sound. Rest assured.”

The familiar spirit nodded once. “Wake me, if you ever need me.”

“Then we shall say our goodbyes here,” Marie replied. “Have a good rest.”

Without waiting for her response, Marie walked away from the casket, which slid shut on its own. The two of them surveyed the reverent godkith, and then nodded once. “We will return in a few years to provide guidance. For now, make sense of this place. Hear my first order, people.”

The godkith straightened up.

“Live on, and grow as a compassionate people,” said Marie. “Do so, and the two of us will return with a direction and a warning three years later. Protect yourselves, make sure that everyone is cared for, and progress onwards.”

Aziz took out a small book. “This here is the pathway to power. Anyone can learn from it, but do not abuse the power obtained.”

Placing it beside the casket, he exchanged glances with Marie, and then took to the skies. With that departure, their responsibilities to the last survivors of the Lost Star’s apocalypse were now partially discharged. Interregnum had been secured, which was the ultimate protection against any monsters and semi-divinities that were still alive. Now, with the General Formula given to the godkith, it wouldn’t take too long before they became a formidable force…although the pathway to semi-divinity no longer existed.

What remained was simply a compilation of a new guiding light for these lost people, who had lived through a tumultuous age. Aziz had instinctively understood that the nature of the godkith was to live in accordance with divinely ordained principles; without such principles, their growth would be stunted.

Perhaps, that was just the way they were made.

Marie nodded in agreement as Aziz conveyed his thoughts. “The godkith are beings that were meant to live for their creator. It is natural that they need something like a guiding beacon. In the past, the great gods would have been their guider, but now…the age of gods has truly passed.”

“The Mortal Light Dynasty would be proud,” Aziz quipped.

“Well, let’s go do our final piece of work, then.” Marie smiled. “It’s time to compile a legend, a new creation myth for the godkith to live by. They have the foundation needed; they now just need a story to go on.”

Aziz nodded. “I think we need a name, though. Make it easy to remember.”

“Do you have a name for it?” Marie asked.”

Aziz looked down at the abandoned nation, at the abandoned world. The past year had been a real mess, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to blame any side, even if his heart told him otherwise. “Considering that the kid was behind all this…let’s call it ‘Legend of the Lost Star’.”

“Legend of the Lost Star, huh?” Marie smiled. “That’s a good name.”

“It just popped into my head all of a sudden, though…”

Laughing, the two of them threw on a burst of speed and left the silent capital.