The place the various saints were staying at was more like a Medieval version of a campground than anything you'd expect the representatives of the gods to meet at. Tents and various other structures littered the area, and it was about as organized as a meat buffet after a horde of Tasmanian devils passed through it.

Still, I no longer felt the pull when I reached the camp. This must mean that this is where the Equinox will be at. Honestly, I wondered just how this planet rotated if an Equinox only happens once a century here.

Dalv and I got various looks as we walked inside. Some of them were expressions of curiosity. Others gazed at us with disdain. A few had looks of disgust. Still more had expressions of sheer terror on their faces. This wasn't unexpected, but more people looked at me than they did at Dalv.

"I guess everyone wants to see what's up with the newest saint," I said.

None of them would recognize me, and all of them would know there's a new saint around. So, that was my conclusion.

"That is part of it," Dalv replied. "The other is that you are a saint of Dʰéǵʰom. He has had very few saints."

The god's voice came into my head.

"I'd rather not interfere in human affairs more than I have to, and having a saint is nothing but interference," he said.

"I know. If I wasn't a god slayer, you'd probably have sent me to some afterlife," I thought.

"Well, Nergal and Ereshkigal would have sent you to their Underworld. As a worshipper of Ashur, you'd have fallen under their domain when you died. Thankfully, as a god of war, Nergal is on humanity's side, even if he is a bit of an ass," Dʰéǵʰom stated.

"What about Ereshkigal?"

"She doesn't want to see humanity dead, but she also doesn't want to lose human souls bound for Kur. Thankfully, Nergal was able to convince her to send you to me when I found out about Zeus' plans to assassinate you," the god said.

Dalv's voice came to my ears, bringing me from my thoughts.

"We should pitch our tents on the outskirts of the camp area, preferably on an elevated location," he stated.

I turned to Dalv, and he pointed to a hill.

"That should do nicely," the vampire said.

"It seems fine," I agreed.

We went over to the hill and started setting up our camping gear. A few mosquitos flew over. They started biting me. I did my best to swat them away.

"Well, it's a shame that magical bug spray hasn't been invented yet," I sighed.

Dalv reached into his pack and pulled out a wooden can with a hose at the end of it.

"It has in Weltai. It just hasn't spread beyond there yet," he explained.

The Voivode sprayed the air around us. This made the mosquitos fly away.

"This spray creates a ward that repels insects. You're supposed to spray it on yourself," Dalv stated.

I understood. This bug spray was more like sunscreen than what it was like in my world. Then again, a ward might be the best option, given what magic can do.

A tall man walked over to us. He dressed in the clothing of Vandalland, and there was an amused expression on his face.

"It's good to see you again, Dalv. It's been a century, hasn't it?" he asked.

"Yes, I did not see you since the last Equinox," the Voivode replied. "Is Dr. Anchor here yet?"

The newcomer nodded.

"Yes, but he's on standby for when the violence starts."

I noted that he didn't say if. Then, his gaze turned to me.

"And you are the Saint of Dʰéǵʰom?" he asked.

"Yes," I gave him a bow. "I am Saint Sir Gustav, Lord von Blitzburg."

The man bowed back.

"I am Baron Fridus of Vandalland. I must also say that it's good to meet another saint from Earth," he said before giving me a joking smile. "Even if he was French."

My eye twitched a little bit. I recalled that this guy was John Snow, the Father of Epidemiology, in his past life. And John Snow was English. But at least Baron Fridus wasn't from fantasy England.

Dalv stepped between us.

"Well, it is good to see that you two are getting along," he didn't give me a chance to speak. "I must have a talk with Krewh about this prank of his."

Fridus paused in thought for a moment before sighing.

"I suppose it was a bit funny. But we are from Vandalland and Greenrivers now, and I'd prefer to think of Gustav as my future king," he said.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

My eyes blinked in shock.

"Your future king?" I asked.

Baron Fridus raised an eyebrow.

"Are the rumors about you and Her Majesty being together not true?" he questioned.

Of course, there were rumors. I had a pretty good idea of who was spreading them too.

"Dammit, Wisimir," I thought before speaking. "King Eduard would never approve of me marrying her."

A smile escaped Baron Fridus' face.

"You know your king, but you haven't known him for long. For those of us who are far older than you, we know that he has changed his mind in the past. And should he think your marriage to Queen Hildoara beneficial, he would agree to it in a heartbeat," he said.

"I'd at least want to go on a date with Hildoara first," I replied. "And are you really okay with your queen potentially marrying someone from a count's family?"

Baron Fridus shrugged.

"You're a saint. That means a lot to some people, as I'm sure you've seen. Besides, from how Krewh described you, you'd make a very good king," he said.

I got a bit uncomfortable. So, I decided to change the subject.

"So, is there any way we can stop things from ending violently here?" I asked.

"With luck, we can," Baron Fridus answered. "But I doubt it."

Dalv scoffed.

"It would take much more than luck. There are those here who refuse to listen to reason," he said.

"What were you fighting about last year, anyway? Are some of the Saints criminals?" I asked.

Then, I clarified.

"In this life."

"None of them have chosen the path of crime," Dalv said, a hint of concern flowing through his voice. "But that does not mean there are other disagreements."

Baron Fridus nodded. He seemed a bit nervous too.

"Despite us all being saints, most of us come from different kingdoms. And the gods we serve don't always get along," Fridus said. "And that's to say nothing about personal differences."

I narrowed my eyes.

"So, did the topic of who saints were in their past lives come up at all?" I asked.

"Mentally, yes. Physically, no," Baron Fridus stated.

He sighed before explaining.

"We aren't supposed to bring up our reincarnation around those who haven't reincarnated. No one broke that rule. However, some difficulties around past lives arose."

Dalv nodded.

"And it wasn't any one dispute that caused a fight to break out. It was dozens of different ones. Honestly, this wasn't the first time a saint meeting ended and violence and I doubt it'll be the last," the Voivode said.

Well, fuck. I'm pretty sure each saint here was at least a hundred years old. A good portion of that time could have been used to get more magically powerful. And I was 15. If this meeting got hostile...

"Dʰéǵʰom, what are my chances against the second weakest saint here, assuming I'm the weakest?" I thought.

"You are the weakest. And if you two were to fight 100 times, you'd win 2.5 times," the god explained.

"Well, I'm fucked, aren't I?"

"You're not fucked, Gustav. Just use your wits and bullshit to solve things like you usually do. I guarantee you that most of the saints here have never met anyone like you."

Well, that didn't make any damn sense.

"But I'm a normal person. Do saints just hang around weirdos?" I thought.

Dʰéǵʰom let out a deep groan.

"Never mind. That's a stupid question," I pondered.

"Finally! You're finally getting it!" Dʰéǵʰom said.

"Yeah! I mean, I'm a saint, and I hang out with a bunch of weirdos! It looks like other saints probably do the same. Or maybe we're weirdo magnets?" I thought.

Silence came over my mind. After a few moments of it, I tried to contact my god again.

"Dʰéǵʰom, are you alright?"

"I'm going drinking with Thor," he replied. "I want to forget everything."

That was deeply concerning.

"Did something happen? Did your girlfriend break up with you? Do you want to talk about it?" I questioned.

"Just...just...just..."

I heard another groan come from Dʰéǵʰom. Then, I heard him bashing his head against a wall.

"...just forget about it. Go and handle the saint meeting. I'm sure you'll do fine," the god said.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Now, go."

Alright. That meant things were up to me. Well, me, Dalv, and Fridus. I'd probably be able to get them to help me.

"Drac, do you think the other saints will go easy because I'm the new guy and I'm 15?" I asked.

"Some will, some won't," Dalv answered.

Baron Fridus nodded.

"I wouldn't rely on it," he said.

"Then, will the other saints go easy because I have the crystal ball numbers of three monarchs, one of whom is Drac here, another wants to marry me, and the third is known for throwing people out of windows?" I questioned.

Baron Fridus' jaw dropped. I guessed that Krewh didn't tell him that part. Dalv, meanwhile, grinned practically from ear to ear.

"Now, that is something that could get people to fear you. And fear is a great deterrent. It does not always work out, especially when you're dealing with ambitious idiots, but it can at least make others hesitate," the Voivode said.

Baron Fridus nodded.

"I recall a certain Italian saying that it is better to be feared than loved if you cannot be both," he added.

"It is far easier to be both than most people think," Dalv waved it off.

"Yes, that's right. Machiavelli was criticized a lot and he might have been sarcastic, but he was right. I need to be both feared and loved," I decided.

Dalv and Fridus paused for a moment as I rooted through my sack. A grin crossed my face. Eventually, I pulled out a signboard that I brought here just in case.

"Ummm, Gustav, Krewh says that Dalv told him to tell us that you're about to do something weird," Baron Fridus said.

"Nonsense. I'm going to do something normal," I replied.

On the sign, I wrote, "I have the crystal ball numbers of 3 monarchs, one of them is Dalv, one wants to marry me, and one likes throwing people out of windows."

Surveying my handiwork, I nodded. A sense of pride filled me.

"That takes care of fear. Now, time for love," I said.

Then, my gaze turned to Dalv.

"Drac, do you have any more of that bug spray? You said it was just common in Weltai, right?"

"I have plenty of it," the Voivode stated.

"Can I have some?" I asked. "If I pass it around to the various saints, they might like me more."

Dalv shrugged.

"It isn't a terrible plan, and first impressions are important. Though, it might make your social status take a hit in their eyes," he pointed out.

I shrugged.

"If I cared about stuff like that, I'd have done things a lot differently. Right now, I just don't want to get my ass kicked," I said. "I know full well that I'm the weakest person here. It'll be at least half a century before I can stand against any of the other saints without getting really lucky. So, the best strategy for me is to avoid fighting if I can. But if I have to fight, then I have to fight."

A blank expression crossed Dalv's face. He seemed to be silently judging me.

"Then, tell me, what will you do if that saint of Poseidon you fought shows up here?" he asked.

"I'll cut his balls off," I answered.

Dalv smiled.

"Ah, caution without cowardice, good. Take as much bug spray as you want."