The arena was absolute chaos—the best kind of chaos. Thousands of fans packed shoulder-to-shoulder, screaming themselves hoarse as the Three Blind Mice commanded the stage. Thomas had never seen such a mix of people in one pce: humans jumping and shouting, their faces slick with sweat; an elf woman in the front row actually *threw her ce panties* onto the stage, her friends ughing and cheering her on; a group of fairies hovered above the crowd as they sm-danced; a stocky dwarf a few rows back was passing a joint to his buddy, both of them nodding along to the bass line; beast-folk of every variety—wolves, foxes, even a few bears—howled and roared their approval.

  On stage, the Three Blind Mice were in perfect sync—three micemen in matching bck leather jackets and their signature wraparound Ray-Bans, moving through a complex dance routine that had the entire arena losing their minds. The lead singer's tail whipped dramatically as he hit a high note, his whiskers twitching with the effort.

  "Oh my god!" Cire shouted in Thomas's ear, her breath warm against his skin. "This is INCREDIBLE!"

  She squeezed his hand, then shifted closer, pressing against his side. Her other hand slid onto his thigh—high up on his thigh—and Thomas's brain went completely bnk for a moment.

  She was *touching* him. Here, in public, she was touching him like they were already together, like they were boyfriend and girlfriend.

  Thomas's heart hammered. Cire looked up at him, her eyes bright with excitement, her lips curved in a smile that promised things. Good things. Amazing things.

  *Thank you, Goddess,* Thomas thought, barely able to breathe. *Thank you, thank you, thank you.*

  The interface shimmered at the edge of his vision—transparent, easy to ignore.

  **PARTY MESSAGE— URGENT potential sanctuary under invasion. Cathedral. Need ALL mid bosses.**

  Thomas blinked it away. Not now. What was a mid boss? Anyway, he was *busy*.

  On stage, the Three Blind Mice unched into their biggest hit. The crowd absolutely *erupted*. The elf woman who'd thrown her panties was now being lifted onto a minotaur's shoulders, screaming the lyrics. The fairies above swooped and spun in perfect time with the music. The dwarf and his buddy were swaying along, joint still being passed between them.

  Cire's hand squeezed his thigh, her fingers warm even through his jeans. She leaned in close again, her lips nearly touching his ear.

  "I'm having the best time," she said, and then she *kissed his cheek*.

  Thomas's thoughts were fuzzy. She was into him. Actually, genuinely into him. And after this concert, maybe they'd go back to her pce, or his pce, and.

  ---

  Steve and Hansel stood in the church doorway, chests heaving, staring out at the impossible scene.

  "What..." Hansel's voice was barely a whisper. "What just happened?"

  Steve leaned against the doorframe, his heart still hammering. His hands were shaking. He looked down at them, then back out at the peaceful church grounds.

  "He could have killed us," Steve said quietly.

  Hansel turned to look at him, blood still trickling from the cut on his cheek.

  "What?"

  "Brother Cornelius. He could have killed us." Steve's voice grew more certain. "Multiple times. He was fast enough. Strong enough. But he didn't. He was... I don't know. It was like he was—"

  "Toying with us?" Hansel's expression darkened.

  "No. Not toying. It was..." Steve struggled for the words. "It was like he was *trying* to stop us, but not... not actually trying to kill us. Does that make sense?"

  Hansel wiped the blood from his face, wincing. "Nothing about this makes sense."

  They stood in silence for a moment, staring out at the grounds that should be a smoking ruin but looked pristine and untouched.

  From somewhere deeper in the church, they heard voices. Chanting.

  Steve and Hansel exchanged a look.

  "Aldric," Steve said.

  They turned away from the doorway and headed deeper into the church.

  ---

  The notifications stacked up in his peripheral vision, fshing with increasing urgency. Thomas waved them away like annoying flies.

  Not. Now.

  He turned his full attention to Cire, sliding his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. She melted into him, her head resting against his chest as the Three Blind Mice hit their choreographed pose. The crowd screamed. Confetti cannons exploded, raining shimmering paper down on everyone.

  Cire tilted her face up toward him, her expression warm and wanting.

  "This is perfect," she said.

  "Yeah," Thomas agreed, his hand moving to her waist, feeling the curve of her hip through her dress. "It really is."

  **PARTY MESSAGE - BROTHER ALDRIC**

  ```My son. The Goddess calls you to service.Your brothers and sisters need you.This is your DUTY.```

  Thomas blinked the notification away, feeling exasperated.

  Duty could wait.Cire's body pressed against his, her hand on his thigh, the promise in her eyes, the electricity crackling between them—this was *happening*. Actually happening. To *him*.

  Three months ago, girls like Cire didn't even know he existed. Now she was looking at him like he was the only person in this entire sold-out arena.

  The Three Blind Mice unched into another song, their tails swishing in perfect synchronization behind them. Their mirrored Ray-Bans caught the stage lights, fshing like strobes.

  Thomas closed the interface entirely.

  He'd earned this night. The Goddess had *given* him these tickets. Had blessed him with this transformation, this confidence, this beautiful woman who was running her fingers along his arm and smiling at him like he was everything she wanted.

  He wasn't going to waste it.

  Whatever was happening at the church—he was sure they could handle it.