The world is the Gods playing-field; and we creatures are their favorite form of entertainment. It was the annual winter solstice hunt, where the frosting blizzards prickles your skin down to the very bones, where food is scarce, and where your enemy finds ecstasy with your sufferings. Certainly... and certainly this is where Gods choose their heralds- a warrior that is worthy of lending their abilities, in lieu to display their overwhelming control and power to their equal. To show that there is still someone who is far omnipotent than the norm. She or He who stood atop of the battle will have a chance to possess whatever it is that they wished, in return of giving the Gods a spectacular performance giving them pleasure and delight. After all, there is no better pleasure than watching them suffer, am I wrong?...