The crowd gathered around Gaius, suffocating him somewhat, as the entire group landed. The boy’s vision was slipping in and out of clarity every so often, and he could vaguely see people in white rushing towards him. The next thing he knew, the boy was lying on something fluffy. His head was supported by what felt like a little cloud, and his shirt had been changed. The nasty clamminess that had stuck on his shirt had gone, replaced by a gauze bandage.

   He groaned, and pushed himself off the bed. Gaius was in what looked like a hospital ward, and hanging off the wall was his old clothes. The cloak he’d been wearing was tattered, but none of the Straight Shots stuck inside were missing. After staring at the cloak full of gaping holes, Gaius pulled it on.

   Folding the bloodied tunic up, Gaius turned to the drawer beside the bed was on. His equipment — all of them — had been laid out neatly, and the boy placed them back into his new shirt.

   “You’re awake, boy.”

Gaius turned. A woman in a white doctor’s garment, which was probably something the Cardinal Champions had popularised, was scribbling on a clipboard with a pen, glancing at something suspiciously like a computer’s monitor.

   “Thank you, doctor.” Gaius placed the last bag of gemstones into his pockets. “Am I free to go?”

   “A few questions first.” The doctor pushed her glasses up. “Do you have any long-term injuries?”

   “Yes.”

   “Describe them.”

   Gaius blinked. “Uh, injuries caused by heavy impacts. A lot of them.”

   “And the wound on your chest?”

   “A new injury, probably. I don’t know how I got it.”

   “People these days…” The doctor muttered quietly. “Look, you guys might have shields or barriers or whatever around you, but taking hits directly isn’t something you should do lightly. Instead of wrapping it around your body, spread it out into a bubble to minimise impacts.”

   She scribbled on the clipboard for another five seconds. “Especially you. From the data we’ve extracted, it seems that there are some rather…chronic injuries within your body. You’re a child. That’s not good. Your parents… what were they thinking?”

   “I’m an orphan,” Gaius replied.

   Which was technically true, given that he’d crossed over into a body of a slumdweller.

   “Orphan?” She turned away. “My apologies. Life must have been hard afterwards. I know what it’s like too. Relatives all eying the inheritance, living by yourself…”

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

   The doctor sighed. Gaius rolled his eyes — she clearly had the wrong interpretation of ‘orphan’, but it was more convenient for the boy with such a cover. He’d exposed his own background without giving too much thought about it, which was natural given his weakened state. It was fortunate that the doctor had assumed the more…logical possibility.

   “Do I need to take any medicine?” asked Gaius, snapping the doctor out from her own thoughts.

   “Yes, yes, of course.” She walked out of the room, and returned a minute later with a small bag in hand. “The instructions are written on each sachet. Remember not to overdose. If there are any side effects like rashes, stop using them and return to me for further check-ups.”

   I’ve heard this before…did the Cardinal Champions also export this speech wholesale? Am I to see the Hippocrates Oath later? Gaius glanced at the small paper bag in his hand, where a bunch of mashed herbs had been separated into three separate packets. A poultice like this was for external use — it would have little effect on the internal wounds that were still plaguing his body.

   “Thank you.”

   “Mm. Dinner’s underway now; it’s another banquet. Try not to drink…” Her words trailed off as she looked at Gaius. “Children shouldn’t drink. So just eat whatever you like, and then have an early rest.”

   Gaius nodded, and left the building. As it turned out, the ward he’d been in was the first floor of a three-storey building, and as he stepped out, a meaty fragrance assaulted his nostrils. The long tables had been set out once more, with significantly more people in attendance this time, and as Gaius approached the banquet, cheers rang out.

   All of them were staring at the boy and yelling their hearts out. He couldn’t make out the words, but Gaius could feel warmth in his chest, and instinctively understood that the people assembled here were thanking him for forcing the enemies to retreat far earlier than usual.

   He had indirectly saved a few lives.

   It was a rather new feeling to Gaius. The boy rarely, if ever, saw his acts of killing as those that saved lives. He’d saved others before, sure, but it was in the form of providing food, shelter and a way of life to the orphans he’d picked up.

   He looked at the cheering crowd, and felt an odd chill run down his spine. He could feel the sentiments raging beneath the cheers — sorrow for their fallen friends, hate at the one who’d invaded their lives, and an undying desire to live. It was madness at its very core, warped and magnified, directed at what the collective masses designated as a hero.

   Are these the feelings that turn even the unwilling into heroes? Gaius clenched his fist tightly. He had the feeling that the people here would no longer be willing to settle for a white peace — he could sense that their nonchalance towards the gods had been replaced by a burgeoning pyre of hatred. Even if the Eastern Territories was secured once again, it was unlikely that the people assembled here and those manning the defence lines would stop at that. They would push on, crushing any dissent underfoot, until they achieved their goal of revenge.

   It was a pipe dream. Gaius knew that, and yet, he couldn’t tell these people that their revenge was nearly impossible. He would watch them match towards their ruin, and more and more people would join them as news of the war entered the other Territories.

   The deafening cheers sounded hollow to him, but Gaius ignored everything, choosing to walk towards the roaring crowd instead, where he sat down with the other Knights and ate with them. It was the least he could do. He’d seen this madness before, this bloodlust, back on Earth, and even though it wasn’t as extreme as the one he was witnessing right now…he’d seen those consumed by it walk on a path of destruction.

   Like a moth to the flame.

   Gaius looked at the eyes of all the Knights present, shuddered inwardly at the fey glow in them, and bit down on some meat.

   The spices did nothing to ease his nerves.