Nine days.

It took nine days to reach Shantee, two more than the week that Lore had said when they had first met in Wildburry. Though that was with the caveat that they, ‘make good time.’ Considering all the things they encountered along the way, Peter wondered if such a thing was possible.

From a distance, Shantee seemed smaller than expected. The girth of Wildburry was quite impressive, and that was if you didn’t include the farmland surrounding it, which spanned even further in all directions.

By comparison, Shantee looked like a small fort at best. The walls were neither impressive in height nor appearance. Cracks and holes ran all along the stone exterior, so deep in some areas you could even see an exposed layer of wooden scaffolding. A large gate sat in the middle, made up of metal bars for its grille. 

Rather than slide up or down, this one instead seemed to be pushed and pulled. At the center was a series of chains holding the two halves together. Peter spotted a few tamers and primals hurriedly attempting to unlock them from the inside.

As the maw of the gate began to open, Peter heard shouting from the right. He spotted a lone Fren, emerging from the forest and running towards them. Before he could give any order, a strange looking primal emerged from the forest, with a man riding atop.

The primal looked like a centaur made of wind, yet the upper half was wrong, no beauty could be found in its head which between curtains of wind appeared long and jutted out.

“Steel Breeze!” the man shouted while waving his sword. Whatever that did, the back of the Fren’s neck burst with blood, and she tumbled through the grass. The man jumped off his primal with a summersault through the air and landed atop her body and pierced it. She twitched for a brief moment before going still.

The windy primal ran up behind the man, but with a wave of his hand it disappeared, fading into a gust of wind that traveled towards the blue sky.

“Sorry about the scare, I spotted a group of them on my way back, this one abandoned her friends and tried to give me the slip. The cowardly mutt,” the man said as he approached the caravan.

“Get back!” Gaia shouted as she jumped in front of Peter. “Stay away from us!” she screamed. 

“Gaia?” Peter asked aloud, puzzled. The man didn’t seem like he intended harm, though he was… different.

Hair as black as a night sky whose stars were snuffed out. His facial features were distinct, exotic if Peter were asked to speak ‘truthfully’ to the man’s face. He had never met a person like this before. Perhaps he was not from this continent, was he a traveler from the Kingdom of Dezure, far away to the east across the ocean?

The man also wore black leather armor, which contrasted with the long white cloak which hung behind him. The most striking feature though, was his sword. Impressively thin yet a menacing sharpness to its look. The metal of the blade gleamed brightly in the sunlight in the moments before he returned it to its golden sheath.

“Ah, I mean you no harm. I'm an adventurer. A great one at that. To those who know me, might even say, a hero," he boldly announced as he stepped closer.

“I said stay back! Nature’s Beauty!” Gaia suddenly tossed a wall of powder towards the man.

“Hmph. Swirling Vortex!” The man shouted while holding his arms up before him. A wall of wind appeared and knocked Gaia’s skill to his sides, protecting him. “I hope this demonstration made you realize how pointless it is for you to attack me.”

“I don’t see what Gaia’s seeing… He might be overconfident, but…” Kalista’s voice echoed in Peter’s mind. Not wanting to deny Gaia’s instincts, he summoned Kalista as a precaution. She looked at the man for a moment before frowning and readying her sword. “Peter, there’s something wrong with… him, if that is even a human.”

“Is that…?” The man questioned, raising an eyebrow. His hand reached behind his cloak and pulled out a book, and he aggressively began to flip through the pages. “Indeed. A Blood Knight, quite the rare specimen. Despite all the Squires and Templars I’ve killed, I’ve neither fought nor seen one. Fascinating aesthetic, the sword couldn’t be called ‘heap of iron’, but it’s quite close to ‘him’. One of the few sword-bearing primals I had yet to come across.”

“So you know what I am. Then you should know not to come any closer to us,” Kalista bluntly stated.

The man laughed. “I will excuse your ignorance. Some animals are incapable of begging so they learn to make empty threats instead. Fortunately for you, I'm not here for senseless slaughter. Not yours, anyway. Though I do understand why you're so upset. Here, what if I took a few steps back? Headwind.” With a burst of air, he jumped backwards, covering a considerable amount of distance.

Gaia and Kalista looked puzzled. “Of… of course I would feel better if you went away,” Gaia said, her voice wavering, unsure of herself.

He approached once more, and the two primals visibly grew tenser with each step. “You’ll become accustomed to the feeling the longer you hang around. You’ve just arrived after all.. Had I bad intentions your group would be no different than her.” Rather than point with just his finger, he quickly drew his sword and pointed the tip in the direction of the dead Fren. 

“What… what are you?” Kalista asked in a strained voice. Her shoulders continually rose and fell as she repeated then canceled the movements to swing her sword. “Everything in my being tells me I should kill you…destroy you. Hack you into pieces.”

The man smiled. “That would be-”

“Kaze! Are you harassing my tamers again!” A loud voice suddenly boomed. The owner was a man dressed well in a large coat standing atop the gate. Even from this distance, Peter felt the man was intimidating. “Get those damn wagons inside, now! And close the gate, you want every feral to walk right in here?! Move!”

“Let’s go, Rena!” Lore shouted, and the wagons began to move while Peter stood still.

“Just greeting the newcomers, Rand.” Kaze shouted back with a smile.

“You can greet them after the supplies have been secured!” Rand stepped away while grumbling to himself.

Gaia’s breathing became more and more labored, emitting a low growl-like sound. Peter could see her hands begin to move. In a split second decision, he desummoned her, and in his mind he could feel her gradually, slowly, calm down and regain her senses. If the owner of the fort at least recognized this Kaze, then perhaps he was not truly hostile, despite his words and demeanor signifying otherwise. 

“He’s just stressed,” Kaze lazily remarked, showing no reaction to Gaia’s disappearance. “As I was saying, it would be a mistake to try and fight me. My name is Kaze, and I am known as The Sword of God.” As he spoke the last part, he turned his back towards Peter, displaying his cloak.

It was embroidered with seven different golden circles, each of them containing some symbol within. A pair of lips, a sparkling light, a hand with the index finger pointing out, a pair of closed eyes, a set of scales, a shield, and finally, a sword. The circle surrounding the sword was different from the others. It appeared as if it was bleeding gold into the white fabric surrounding it. At first Peter thought it was just colored that way, but the golden circles all shimmerred as Kaze’s cloak swung side to side. Perhaps it was real gold.

“The Sword of God?” Peter asked, confused. “Which god?”

“Pura.” Peter immediately frowned. “Ah, yes, I am part of the church, but do not fret, I’m not here to indoctrinate tamers.”

“Then what are you here for? What does the church want to do with Shantee?”

“Hmm,” Kaze smiled. “This small place out in the middle of nowhere, it shouldn’t be hard to guess what I’ve come to visit.”

“Dungeons?” Kaze nodded. “Why are you exploring dungeons? Are you looking for more rare primals for your book?”

Kaze laughed. “That would be grand, but I’m afraid despite all my travels across the continent, I’ve never come across a primal that’s not in here,” Kaze said as he waved the book in front of Peter.

A book containing every single known primal? Guilds typically had reference books available, most of them documenting primals in the local region. There were manuals which expanded their depth to the Kingdom as a whole, but those were hard to get access to, and normally advertised that they were not all-inclusive. And here was this man casually waving one around, and a member of the church no less. How important was he, or even more curious, how knowledgeable of primals was the church after all?

Kaze seemed to make a hilt gripping motion with his left hand briefly before letting go. “No. My journey, whether you believe it or not, is far more noble. I’ve come here to see if there’s a way to end this never ending war. A way to finally quell the ferals once and for all,” he said while raising his fist, dramatic pose and all.

“What’s there to look for? Hasn’t the church made their stance clear? All primals must be killed,” Peter said the last part in a mocking-serious tone.

Kaze smiled. “That is one way. But what if I told you there might be a way to get rid of the feral problem without any bloodshed?” 

Peter raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Without killing any of them?" He paused as he tried to come up with an explanation. "Do you plan to tame every primal?”

Kaze laughed. “That’s quite the bold idea, though I’m afraid I’m unable to tame even a single one. No, I’m looking for a way to make ferals infertile.”

“Infertile…” Certainly, if he was able to do such a thing, the feral population would slowly dwindle to nothing. “But how would you make every feral in the world infertile? And what do dungeons have to do with that?”

“I’m glad you’re curious,” Kaze smiled. “First, the events of Primal Dawn are still somewhat a mystery, but they proved that it is possible to affect nearly every monster in the world with magic at once. Who's to say such a thing could not be replicated? Second, after reading up on dungeons and speaking with divers, I noticed something peculiar. There’s no record of a primal within a dungeon ever being pregnant.”

Peter blinked. “Isn’t that because the primals in dungeons are more violent?” Peter recalled hearing that somewhere, which made dungeons especially dangerous. While typical ferals were more interested in sexual conquest, with death as an unfortunate side effect, the ferals you’d encounter in dungeons were bloodthirsty and violent. Once tamed, they seemed to behave normally, but for whatever reason their feral nature was different.

Kaze shrugged. “Maybe. It could also be that dungeons typically don’t last long enough for their inhabitants to get pregnant before collapsing. All the same, I’m here to investigate. If there was something that could block ferals from being pregnant, perhaps it could be applied to ferals outside the dungeon. In the span of a few generations of humans, the war would be over, and finally the peace that was sought after would arrive.”

“A world without ferals,” Peter muttered while closing his eyes in thought. “But if you went through with this, all primals would die out. Once bonded, primals can’t give birth, after all.” Kalista and Gaia both looked downtrodden upon being reminded of this fact, sometimes dubbed, ‘The Curse of Bonds’. “A world with only humans in it… despite all the horrible things I’ve had to endure the past few months, I don’t think such a world should exist.”

“Look at ferals with the cloud of desire swept away. Past the shapely body, you’ll find nothing more than a mindless savage. Murderers. Rapists. If they were human they’d be branded as such and imprisoned. No… executed. But what we consider crimes is their way of living. Until they are destroyed, the suffering of humanity, especially men, will continue. If things do not change, humanity will perish. Only ferals will be left behind, roaming the world in their ignorant, sex-charged existence.”

“So either the primals need to die, or humanity does? It’s to bleak an outlook for me. If you had magic capable of making all ferals infertile, why not use that magic to make them peaceful instead? The only solutions I’ve heard come from the church involve the death of all primals. How can the church belittle ferals for being mindless then come up with simple-minded schemes like these?”

Kaze shrugged. “Such a thing, I cannot answer. Whether they have considered other avenues is beyond my consideration. Though I do sometimes wonder. For an institution whose greatest duty was defending humanity against monsters for the past hundreds of years, what will they become if victorious? What is the hunter without the hunt? Kukuku,” Kaze chuckled strangely to himself.

What will the church be… or you, really, Peter wondered as he glanced toward the Fren Kaze had just cleaved.

A loud creaking sound signaled the tamers and primals watching their conversation had grown tired of waiting. “I’d best go after the others, I still haven’t received my payment for the journey yet.”

“Ah, coin. The only thing tamers care about besides sex.” Kaze smirked. “Go on. Receive your reward. This conversation was interesting. It’s not often I discuss such matters with a tamer, mister…?”

“Peter.”

“Peter,” Kaze nodded. “I’m certain you’ll be heading to the dungeons tomorrow. Join me and you’ll find out how a man can fight without their cock.”

“If I have time,” Peter said with a polite smile, before running through the gates, barely making it inside before they closed behind him.