Gaius was somewhat troubled as he left the Hall of Guardians together. As it turned out, the battlefield was divided into different zones. The lower airzone was reserved for the aerial troops of the Five Lands, while the middle airzone was meant for Knights and Lords to fight in. The upper airzone where the bulk of fighting between Demigods and Paragons occurred.

There was a problem, however. Isabelle, as a Knight, was going to be fighting in the middle airzone. Gaius, who had put down the most reasonable approximation of his strength — a Demigod — was naturally assigned to the upper airzones. One reason behind why the battlefield had been split so neatly was because the demons somehow realised the importance of maintaining a high advantage; attacks from above did more damage in general.

How the demons had such knowledge, Gaius didn’t quite care. His main worry was that the demons weren’t bound to behave in such a way; the Five Lands and the Wildlands definitely had no agreement as to how war should be conducted. If the day came that a Demigod-rank demon decided to plop itself within its Knight and Lord-ranked demons, everyone would die.

It was such a big loophole that he didn’t understand why the demons hadn’t tried something like this. It was as if they were moving according to some doctrine gleaned from the Five Lands itself.

“Something wrong?” Isabelle asked. “You look very distracted.”

“Isn’t this division a bit too artificial?” Gaius asked.

“Division?” Isabelle tilted her head. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m referring to the airzones,” Gaius replied. “What’s the point of separating the battlefield according to power? I can see why the Five Lands would do that, but there’s literally no advantage for the demons to follow suit.”

“Doing so would deprive the crucial battles at the upper airzone of immense combat power, right?” Isabelle asked. “We should have enough Knights and Lords to hold down a Paragon or two.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Gaius replied. “And even if your words are true, what if an enemy Demigod decides to fight in the middle airzone? Within seconds, you’d all be dead.”

“Would a Demigod stoop that low?”

“I would,” Gaius replied. “In fact, I think I’m going to stay within the middle airzone, just in case something like that happens. If anything happens to you…well.”

“What do you intend to do?” Isabelle asked.

“I intend to reprise my role as the Pint-sized Railgun,” Gaius replied. “And I’ll need a spotter. Someone who just happens to have the ability to give me a top-down view of things.”

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“Me?” Isabelle asked.

“That goes without saying,” Gaius replied. “Besides, from what I can see, we’re outnumbered so badly in the middle airzone that I think we need to even out the numbers a bit. I’m sure they won’t mind.”

Other people began to stream in as they traced their steps back. Most of them — the Guardians, presumably — looked the worse for wear. Gaius scanned through the milling crowd, but he didn’t find anyone he knew.

That was a given, since he really didn’t know that many Knights to begin with. He did know some from the Eastern Territories, but after the disastrous Operation Spring Fury, he’d lost contact with all of them. Gaius couldn’t even remember all of their faces.

All kinds of chatter entered his ears as he crossed paths with them.

“…explosion. That was intense.”

“Tell me about it. How’s that possible?”

“Sigil stacking, I think. I think you’d need to use over a hundred sigils to create an explosion this big, though. Who can draw these things that quickly? And what kind of sigil actually creates an explosion?”

“The most important thing is those black cracks, though. What are those cracks?”

The chatter weakened as Gaius and Isabelle drew away from the meandering crowd of Guardians. From the looks of it, they did seem rather partial to his signature explosions, which was a good thing.

“Everyone’s talking about you,” said Isabelle. “So, star of the day, how are you feeling?”

“I’m wondering if I should tone down the number of sigils used in the next battle,” Gaius replied. “And frankly, I’m confused as to why the people who dictate the flow of battle haven’t looked for me yet. Shouldn’t there be some ongoing cooperation between me and them?”

Arrangements had been made for him in the East back then, after all. It was odd that nothing of that sort had happened so far.

“Maybe they want to give you a break?” Isabelle pondered. “They might come for you tomorrow or something.”

“True. How considerate of—”

Before he could complete his sentence, metal slammed against metal, and everyone turned to look at the source. Two men, with their weapons drawn, had struck out at each other at the same time. The clash that had alerted everyone had forced the two men — a human and what clearly was a beastfolk — away from each other, and they clearly weren’t going to end their quarrel there.

The one wielding a sword had a sneer on his face as he took a step back. “Fur Face, come on! Not happy, huh?! Take it to the arena then! I’ll make a coat out of you!”

Gaius and Isabelle frowned at those words.

The other man, who was holding on to an axe, burst into motion and brought it down in an overhead slash. The ground shuddered as the first man blocked the falling axe, only for him to keel over as the beastfolk kicked the swordsman in the gut.

“Watch your words, human! We haven’t forgotten about the Second Extermination!”

Rolling to the side, the human got back onto his feet and spat on the floor. “Yeah? I think your kind should have all died then!”

“You dare? Die, then!”

The watching crowd surged over and pulled the two men apart before the situation could devolve. Gaius, who was on the verge of interfering, lowered his hand and glanced at Isabelle, who had a troubled look on her face.

“What’s going on?”

“Oh, another quarrel…”

“Always a new pair quarrelling.”

Isabelle shook her head. “Let’s leave. If things like this are happening here, we shouldn’t let Nakama roam around the Heaven-cleaving Fortress freely.”

“Agreed.” Gaius narrowed his eyes. “Let’s go make sure that she’s alright.”

“Mmm.”

Casting one last look at the two quarrelling men, Gaius and Isabelle began to move, leaving the ugly scene behind.