"If I were in it for me I wouldn't be talking about traveling out to a war zone," he says with a humorless laugh. "This job's a tough and thankless enterprise--most of peacekeeping is. Wouldn't recommend it to somebody looking for widespread fame and adoration."

Like Lurio had, he can't help but think--he'd craved that abstract glory, that popular desire. He could have indeed made a name for himself among his fellows, but it wouldn't have been the same as the way he'd captivated a nation in those final rounds, the eyes of all classes of society riveted on him. The whole thing had been too much too fast, like a firework burning itself out, and in a way it had left Quintus altogether wary of notoriety.

In his own mind, in spite of his title, he was still just a soldier, a piece of a larger machine. He couldn't risk being anything else.

"I wanted to do more for everybody. However much I could."