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Father had told the Prime in no uncertain terms that he did not wish to get involved in this war, so Gohvis-Aeha had no doubt that Father would be supremely pissed off about being pulled into it.

Which could be a problem. For both himself and for the Prime.

But would Father even realize that this was his doing? He couldn’t be blamed if it just seemed like a coincidence. In fact, if anyone was going to receive Father’s blame here, it would almost certainly be Morgunov.

And better still, Father was perhaps the only one in the world who could talk any amount of sense into Morgunov, thereby saving Germal’s life.

Admittedly, that might’ve been a bit overly optimistic, but in Gohvis-Aeha’s opinion, no other path forward afforded even the slightest chance of such an outcome.

So that was the decision made.

The problem then became how he would actually make it happen. In actual practice, the notion that he could “steer” this battlefield somewhere was perhaps more ambitious than he’d realized.

Morgunov was the focal point. The Vanguardians were chasing him. And Kallmakk was constantly disrupting that, creating openings for the Mad Demon.

So the task here was... what, then? To force Morgunov in a certain direction?

Impossible.

The man could not be led by force. And trying to do so would likely make Morgunov think that he'd turned on him, which might prompt even more erratic behavior from the madman.

But again, this chase was a curious thing. Morgunov may have been leading it, but was he truly trying to escape?

Gohvis-Aeha could make a wager. Morgunov wanted Germal dead, yes? So carrying Germal away might prompt Morgunov to change up and give chase, instead. And Germal was much more manageable as a kidnappee than Morgunov.

So that was what he did.

He waited for another opening, which Kallmakk soon provided.

A great pillar of black energy dug a volcanic trench into the ground, leaving a chain of explosions, smoke, and molten earth in its wake as it ripped all the way into the horizon. Everyone on the field had to disperse in order to dodge it, with several not succeeding.

Gohis-Aeha knew he had to be precise with his movements here. The distraction was a bit too good, honestly. He might’ve been able to grab Germal here and get away entirely without Morgunov even noticing.

Which was a thought. Hmm. Would that be the better option?

Agh. Maybe. He could mull it over later. Better to stick with the plan, for now.

He blitzed across the sundered field and scooped up the Liar of Lyste like a sack of potatoes. Then he made sure to run by Morgunov, giving him a nice view of the prize.

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It was a strange position to be in, he knew. If he did nothing here, then he had a rather strong feeling that, eventually, Morgunov would either escape or even turn the tables on the Vanguardians here. And judging by the man’s aura, by what a furious inferno it was, the latter possibility was seeming quite likely indeed.

Did Morgunov even wish to escape? Or was killing Germal his foremost priority now?

Gohvis-Aeha couldn’t allow that to happen, either.

Additionally, there were the vast distances to take into consideration. This battle here, while theoretically part of the Second Continental War, was not actually taking place on the Eloan continent like all the others. So if he meant to drag this battle over to one of those, it would mean crossing one of the oceans first--while the feldeath continued to give chase, no less.

Would that even be possible?

Well, yes, of course it would. An ocean wouldn’t stop Kallmakk, nor Morgunov, nor Koh, nor Germal... but Iceheart and the rest of the Vanguardians?

Some of them would probably get left behind. Which would gradually weaken them, further strengthening Morgunov’s position and diminishing Germal’s. There were also aerial dogfights still taking place over the Luthic. That probably wouldn’t be an issue, but there were a few pilots in the world who could make it one.

All in all, not ideal.

There were two other options, though.

Instead of bringing this fight to one of the other warfronts, he could bring it to the Prime. That would certainly mix things up. The Prime would probably be quite displeased with him, but at the moment, he was quite displeased with the Prime, too, so maybe that would only be fair.

For some reason, however, he found himself leaning away from that option. Why? There was scarcely enough opportunity to think all these things through, let alone dwell on his feelings about them. But it did bother him a bit. He wanted to return to the network, didn’t he? To reestablish the strongest connection possible? Going to the Prime was the easiest way to do that. Probably the smartest, too.

And yet he was reluctant. He wanted to find some other way. Miserable as he was, he didn’t want this to...

Ugh.

So what did that leave?

The last option. And perhaps worst. Or best, accounting for distance.

He could bring the battle to Father.

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There’d been one particular battle, from the first so-called “Continental War” some hundred years prior, when the Prime’s abilities had been tested like never before. Over two months of continuous combat. And during that time, he saw countless servants being pushed to their limit by their reapers and beyond.

Until they broke.

It had been roughly the same story as here, actually, though it had instead been Dozer that the Vanguardians were feverishly trying to corner and kill. They’d nearly managed it, too, truth be told, but in the end, Father escaped.

And their many noble sacrifices had been for naught.

Though, it did bring the war to a rather swift conclusion. Father wisely decided to lay low while he recovered from that grueling ordeal, and peace broke out in the meantime.

By comparison, these Vanguardians here were already not looking very good after only a few days of combat. But perhaps that was an unfair assessment, considering they had been Morgunov’s prisoners for weeks beforehand, and there was no telling what sort of horrific treatment the madman had been putting them through.

Regardless, this couldn’t go on for much longer. Unless they somehow found replacements, Morgunov would outlast them. Maybe even without the feldeath’s help.

In that respect, Gohvis-Aeha could most certainly be of assistance. While his access to the network was tenuous and frequently getting interrupted, he did have a modest grasp of what was going on with some of the other warfronts.

Meaning he could try to steer this battle over to one of those.

But in service of which side?

Did he really want to assist the Vanguardians? The Prime had deployed him here in order to ensure Morgunov’s survival, though not out of any sense of duty or affection. The Prime wanted something from him and didn’t intend to let him die until he got it.

And yet, Gohvis-Aeha was also getting a faint impression that the others had already given Morgunov up for dead. That this was a lost cause. That the Mad Demon might as well be left to fend for himself at this point.

But his connection to the network wasn’t strong enough to be sure of that. If only he could find an opening to meditate for a few minutes.

Yeah. This was definitely the shittiest job alright.

But as the days drew out, he began to think that perhaps this giant mess did have one, singular upside. Something that took a while to truly appreciate.

If he didn’t have time to convene with the others or even consult the Prime, then that really only left one thing to do, didn’t it?

He had to make the decision himself.

He had to be... independent.

What an absolutely wondrous realization.