Kaze called it a day after clearing the "Grand Arena" three more times. 

Not because he was tired. 

Rather, he was bored.

And since Kaze “needed” everything, Peter left mostly empty handed, barely snagging some money for himself from the few ferals that his team personally eliminated. He had initially tolerated it considering how Kaze was doing most of the work. But at one point he had taken a weapon that remained after Kalista defeated a feral, and that soured Peter’s mood. 

If it were not bad enough that he was leaving without any treasures, the question of what primal he would tame still loomed above him. Peter didn’t really have a chance to even consider taming any he saw today. Not when Kaze was killing them in droves.

At Shanty, Peter entered a staring contest with the two tamers guarding belongings. Even with his gang split three ways, Zilas was smart enough to always leave someone at home. If he had anything worth bribing them with, he might have attempted to.

No, he wouldn’t. Trading to get his things back? The thought made him angry. Why should he have to give up anything to retrieve what had been rightfully his?

The three groups all arrived at roughly the same time. The first two seemed to be as boisterous as usual. The third on the other hand seemed downcast. Peter recognized some of the members were with him in Levi’s group the other day, it seemed not everyone had left. But even those he didn’t recognize seemed to be on edge.

Peter spotted Fira with the third group, and Bryan among the second.

When it was time for dinner, Peter grabbed Kaze’s bowl and left the fort to hand it to him. His portion he gave to Kalista and Gaia. In a way, it felt like punishing them considering the taste, but they needed food too. Allegedly primals could sustain solely off of taming, but he felt that a pervert must have come up with that idea. Peter couldn’t imagine forcing Kalista or Gaia to go through their entire lives with only the taste of that on their tongues. Although, they were always begging for more…

While everyone else suffered through their meals, Peter silently stared at Kaze.

Before him sat a man capable of killing an entire room of ferals. If Kaze suddenly declared every tamer and their primal heretics and started swinging, would anyone be able to stop him? Should he be planning for such a possibility?

“Hey, can you do me a favor?” Kaze suddenly asked.

Peter blinked. “Depends on the favor.”

Kaze laughed. “Nothing difficult. I just want you to hold my sword again,” he said while withdrawing the weapon from its sheath and pointing the handle towards Peter.

Peter raised an eyebrow. “This isn’t a trick, is it?”

Kaze shook his head. “No trick. Come on.” Peter hesitated. “Come oooon,” Kaze repeated, a growing anger in his tone.

There wasn’t any more convincing needed. Peter grabbed the hilt, and once again it transformed into the same red sword as before. Kaze scowled. Had Peter held it wrong? “Still red?” he muttered, in a tone that suggested those were meant to be his thoughts.

Well, what should it have been, then? Peter wasn’t sure. “Haah, I wish it looked as cool as yours,” Peter sighed.

“Hmph.” Kaze yanked the weapon away and it transformed back to the usual form. “You don’t have to lie.”

“No, really,” Peter stammered. “You really did a number on those ferals, you know? I can see why you laughed. When I- when I held the plank like a weapon. I must have looked ridiculous compared to a trained fighter like you.”

Kaze snorted. “Hah. Like a monkey with a stick.” 

“And your strategy, it was brilliant. The ferals just bunched up while chasing you… say, why do primals behave like that around you? I don’t remember anyone from the church in Wildburry having that effect.”

“Gah, it’s some stupid crest.” Kaze frowned. “I’d never show you it, but there’s a crest placed on my body. It antagonizes primals and makes you incapable of forming bonds. There’s a bunch of high ranking members who are capable of placing them. But mine was placed by the highest power in the church… God-Vessel Vhelisa.” He spoke her name with scorn.

“A crest,” Peter murmured. “I think they planned on giving me one of those as well.”

“Then you must have gotten in trouble… or were about to be wedded off. They place them on all the men in the church. After so many years of men falling to the temptations of primals and creating scandal after scandal, they decided to solve the problem in a more direct manner.”

“With magical castration…” 

Kaze shrugged. “Seems it worked.”

Peter took Kaze’s nonchalant answer as his mood having reached ‘no longer angry.’

“I should head back inside,” Peter announced. Kaze said nothing as Peter turned and headed toward the fort. He knocked on the door and patiently waited.

And waited some more. 

Then he shouted. And still waited. Finally, he realized what was going on, and sighed, and started banging on the door. 

In a few moments, the door opened, revealing an angry looking Centaur, sweaty and blushing.

“Brought Kaze his food,” Peter mumbled as he looked away while slinking past her.