Filoria watched Rafael and Helare frolicking through the festival, just like they did every day and night. They were young and awkward, obviously more than a little enamoured with each other. Luckily, they were both too scared to make the first move. Or at least the reciprocal move.

Watching them reminded Filoria of the mating rituals of the mer people. Only, in this case, the chaser would abruptly shift, and yet the one who was chasing before will run away instead of bracing and accepting the inevitable. It would have been frustrating most days, but today it filled Filoria with hope.

And Filoria had an advantage on Helare now. The other girl did not know, did not understand why Rafael was as slow and awkward as her. He was a virgin too. He had no experience to speak of, which was weird, him being who he was.

Maybe he too was some kind of prince people feared to approach?

Anyway Filoria was the only one who knew what she knew. She had an advantage and she would not be letting it slip.

****

It was almost two weeks into the festival when Bodhia Benhaven arrived back into the city. With his aura senses, he sniffed the area around the piers, and his daughter and her victims were here.

With a smirk, he sped through the city, his stats making most of the people look as slow as turtles. It didn't even take him an hour to reach the spire. His office was on the same level as the king's office, and that was not even something he had to demand.

The position of highest secretary, giving power second only to the king's, wasn't something he had been interested in initially. But then his sponsors contacted him, and everything changed. He had the power to kill gods. Those eternally silent gods. They would all die.

There was no work waiting for him in the outer, normal chamber. He checked thoroughly, just to confirm. There was no one nearby. So he entered the secret compartment.

There were a lot of secrets someone with his power and backing needed to hide. Like the tanks in his keeping. All manufactured to keep organic and magical beings alive, but barely. One of the tanks had been emptied, as the body in there had no more value to the great ones.

That tank now sat empty, waiting for its next guest. The boy was very interesting. He could not pierce through his veiling skill. Him, the strongest person on Primus, and one who was well into the D grade, two whole grades above the boy.

"I wonder what secrets you're trying to hid—"

A knock on the outer door alerted him.

He moved fast again. Making sure his secrets were well hidden, he went to open the door.

"High secretary," one of the nine high secretaries said, not Bodhia's true title.

His was a new position, and one that the formerly highest ranked people in the spire refused to recognise. But it didn't matter to him. These people were as insignificant as the gods they so strongly worshipped.

"What is it?" he asked the man.

"There was a near manifestation at the mother's temple," the high secretary said.

Bodhia was already bored of it, but then the words fully registered, and he resisted the urge to shake the man.

"Tell me exactly what happened?"

Four hours later, Bodhia was standing next to his statue in the square in front of the temples.

He literally stood next to it, not putting any disguises on. And yet, the masses passed him by. That was why Bodhia Benhaven, hero and strongest man on Primus, hated his hair with a passion.

Because of his hair, most lay people would never recognise him. To the people of Ma'la, the hair colour represented how much grace the mother had for one. All heroes had to have the mother's grace. It just did not make sense otherwise. And thus Bodhia was always dismissed.

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He spread out his senses, and what did he find?

"So you were here two days ago? When this near manifestation happened?"

It could be a coincidence, but the chosen did not believe in coincidences. What were the damn gods plotting. The boy was probably a distraction, but Bodhia was not ready to take any chances. He was only in the F grade. Could that be their only play, or did they really not know? Or maybe they had accepted their fate?

They were messing with forces beyond anything they would ever know, after all. Their puny existances were nothing. They could not even solve all of the world's problems. How could they compare to real gods?

"But that boy…" It would be prudent to be a little cautious.

****

Ten days into their stay in the city, news reached them, that the chosen was in the city.

At last Rafe would get to see something connected to the promotion. Though he wondered how. That morning Helare said nothing about going to the palace. How else were they supposed to see anything?

Not that Rafe was keen on meeting Helare's family. That was a step a bit far from what he was ready for. They were not even dating yet.

But if that was what he needed to do for the quest chain, he would do it.

It turned out it wasn't what he needed to do.

A large projection filled the sky when he and the girls were having breakfast at an outdoorsy restaurant. Helare continued to eat her food like it was the most natural thing, but Filoria was shocked enough for the whole table anyway. She fell with her chair.

The whole chair falling thing would have been funny if it had been Helare, Rafe thought sourly. If you didn't get along with someone, then laughing at them would be natural. If you liked someone, then ribbing them a bit and laughing at them would have been alright.

If you only felt someone was okay, not too good, not too bad, maybe fair, teasing them was out of the question. Laughing at them out of malice was also out of the question, so the whole episode passed without Rafe commenting.

He did discover that he didn't outright loathe Filoria anymore. Though he wouldn't miss being so close to her once they went back to the camp.

Rafe was also a little surprised, but things like this were present on Earth before, so it was not entirely new to him.

"So this was what you meant by the whole television thing?" Helare asked. "Watching movies or the like?"

Rafe only nodded.

On the giant projection, the chosen presented a lot of things he had picked up from the wider multiverse. Things that used magical technology, and were millions of years ahead of what Earth could do currently.

Still, it was not the chosen who held most of his attention. It was the crowds of people, who had at first been confused by the projection, then taken it in stride; then started loudly whispering about how they couldn't believe the hero had such a shabby hair colour. Rafe saw Filoria flinch at that. And in the projection, the hero's hair colour did not look like it had when he visited the dungeon. It looked a little stronger, yet the people still thought his blue wasn't blue enough to be like the heroes of old.

The hero was excited as he presented rare things to the capital and promised them all this and more as soon as the planet was promoted into the multiverse.

After that the hero told stories of his travels beyond the veil, and the worlds he had visited, and how much many large governments wanted Primus to be under their protection.

The chosen ended up choosing an organisation led by a man who was a son to a god. A real life god.

Rafe immediately suspected that last thought. Was it just him, or was the chosen taking a barb against the gods of Primus.

From little things he remembered seeing throughout the city, and even whisperings he heard from Filoria, it was obvious the chosen did not like the gods. But even Ma'la, his people's patron deity was not free from his ire.

The chosen went on to promise the people that the projection device would not be disconnected, and that everyone here would get to see the promotion event in two months time.

"But that is not all," the chosen proudly announced.

Then he went on to smile at the recording device.

Rafe had to hand it to the man, he knew how to milk tension.

The streets were so silent even a dropped spoon would cause a gigantic reaction. It seemed as if the recording had stopped working. So frozen was the smiling face of the chosen, enjoying his little play.

And then the recording changed. Rafe wasn't sure what he was seeing at first, but then a column of fire descended onto a rather trodden piece of land. There were shouts coming from the recording. The kind of shouts you'd here in a stadium during an innocent sports match.

When the column died out, a charred and semi-melted earthen fortress fell in a spray of lava. A green haired female Elemenoid stepped out, her skin covered in pink welts and swellings, and her hands clearly bleeding.

Still, she lifted them and glared into the sky. A red haired Elemenoid with wings of fire looked down on her, his face filled with sympathy.

The female screamed as she let loose a hail of Earthen bullets. The flying Elemenoid danced around them, making it look easy.

There was no doubt in Rafe's mind the female would lose. So why the hell was she not giving up?

"Oho, I've been told we have new viewers, folks!" some kind of announcer shouted. "Welcome! To! The! Pittttsss! Yes, it's that thing you've all heard of."

The people on the streets screamed in excitement. Next to Rafe though, Helare looked horrified. Through his racial ability, Rafe saw her slowly look down from the projection and toward him. Filoria next to her looked sick.

He wondered why Helare seemed more shocked about this than he did. Or maybe…

She did once say she wanted him to like her planet. And early in their relationship, Rafe made it clear he did not stand for slavery. And no matter how you looked at it, her world was condoning slavery. But what was new?

"For all those new to the pits, remember our one rule!" the announcer bellowed. "One of them will die!"

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