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“As unpredictable as ever,” came a familiar voice, requiring another moment for Zeff to realize that it belonged to their mysterious ally. “A second ago, you may have killed him and half his kin, had I not intervened. And yet now you show mercy? What are you thinking, Scourge?”

“They would not have died,” said Gohvis. He leveled his crimson gaze up at the distant bird. “You, however, exist with an unfortunate level of strength. If we are to clash here, restraint is not something I will be able to risk.”

“Ah. I shall take that as a compliment, I think.”

“You should take it as a warning,” said Gohvis. “I have no desire to kill you, Graves. So do not force me to.”

What? Zeff looked up at the bird anew. That was Field Marshal Graves up there?

The bird spared another glance for Zeff before returning to Gohvis. “If you have no desire to kill me, then why have you come? To save the Weasel? Of all people? Please tell me otherwise.”

Gohvis made no response.

“Out of every single human being in the entire world, that man right there may, in fact, be the least deserving of your help. You must realize that, surely.”

Gohvis gave a slight nod. “You might be right.”

“Then cease this interference. Truth be told, I have no desire to kill you, either, Scourge.”

Gohvis sighed. “Unfortunately, he still has his uses. I cannot let you kill him.”

The light from the great bird diminished suddenly, and its radiant form shrunk down quickly into that of a normal human being.

Sharp jaw line. Feathery blond hair with a curly mustache. A face that was entirely unfamiliar to Zeff, as he had never met Field Marshal Graves before.

But that overcoat. Black and gold. It did indeed look like the kind that all the marshals wore.

Zeff could still hardly believe it, though. They had known that Graves was in Vantalay, heading up the Vanguardian defense against Abolish here, but by all reports, the man had done almost nothing before leaving the country entirely.

Supposedly, there’d been some sort of disagreement between Graves and the Ridgemark Private Military Police, of which the Linebreaker was a leading member.

And indeed, Zeff had thought it supremely odd that Graves would simply up and leave this country to fend for itself when so many innocent lives would obviously be at stake, but now... if he’d never truly left, then did that mean...? This had all been some kind of scheme?

Zeff’s gray eyes returned to the half-dead lump of flesh behind Gohvis.

Hmm.