316. Interlude - Belzu's Blessing
Alix opened her eyes as the sounds of chains rattling echoed down the hallway. A sharp voice cut through the shadows, followed by a whip, a yelp, and then silence. Other figures stirred from their cells. Only the fresh faces. The ones who were still frightened of the daily beatings they took.
The guards dragged the bleeding body of a man back into one of the cells before locking it back up. They turned to Alix, and she sighed, rising to her feet.
“I’m coming, I’m coming—”
But they snickered. One of them raised a spell scroll, activating it. Alix’s eyes widened, and the collar around her neck shone. A jolt of electricity ran through her body. Sharp pain which caused her to fall on her knees, writhing on the ground.
“Hurry up, slave. It’s your turn. The people are waiting.”
The pain faded away as they lowered the scroll. Alix wanted to just rip the collar right off and smash the guards’ heads in, but she knew if she even so much as damaged the metal, its enchantments would take effect and her head would go flying right off. And each guard had a copy of the spell scroll with them. Even if she took out one and tore it up, it meant nothing. Not unless the original was destroyed.
So, she acquiesced. They handed her her signature sword and a shield as she made her way out of the cell and down the hallway.
“Fucking bastards…”
She muttered under her breath as they watched her go. Up ahead, she heard the cheers. The clamor and the cacophony of thousands of people. She stepped into the light, and found herself standing at the edge of a massive arena.
There were rows and rows of seats that rose up into the circular structure that girdled around the woman. A huge audience was here to watch her fight. And up ahead, a monster— a beast that stood nearly ten foot tall waited for her.
[Three-Headed Bear - Lvl. 81]
It’s nearly my level, Alix thought, taking on a defensive stance.
That was right. Even though she could be violently killed— even though her head could be brutally ripped off— the audience still cheered.
Past the monster, she stared at a man seated in a balcony. A kind of booth to overlook the arena. This man was well-dressed, surrounded by beautiful women who clamored for him. He smiled, and Alix’s gaze bore into him.
This was Roguehollow. One of the vilest cities in all of the Inoria Empire. Where slaves were made into gladiators like her. And that man was Sore— the lord of the city. The one responsible for her situation.
At one point in time, she’d been a respected adventurer. At one point in time, she’d been cheered on for saving towns and villages all across the Human lands. But now? She was nothing more than mere entertainment at his whim.
The monster roared, and Alix screamed. She charged it without thought— only driven by her rage.
—-
“Another day, another great show by the terrible Alix, eh?”
A voice called out as Alix lay in her cell, the back of her hand resting on her forehead. She didn’t even look up. She was covered in blood— both hers and the monster’s. They offered her only a dapping of healing potion. Low grade, too. It wouldn’t fix up even half of the wounds she took from the battle.
“Fuck you, Quinn.”
She sat up, shooting a glare at the other gladiator neighboring her cell. He wore a shit-eating grin on his face, despite the many scars he himself bore.
“You don’t know what it’s like to face a monster as strong as you every fucking week. All you have to do is warmup the crowd with your little circus acts.”
“Hey, I’m not the one who decided to be a former Platinum Ranked adventurer. I’m just a little Silver Rank, minding my own business and warming up the crowd for the main event.”
He shrugged casually. Alix scowled, and another voice spoke up.
“The both of you lack faith. You were led down an erroneous path in life, and now you are forced to suffer.”
An older man shook his head. He sat in the middle of his cell, arms crossed as his lips were curled up. Alix narrowed her eyes.
“The fuck are you on about, Bran?”
“There is only one true path to salvation. Surrender your mortal desires, and you too shall find glory everlasting.”
He sounded like he was a [Priest]. Like he was preaching the sanctity of what was right and just. But Alix knew better. She rolled her eyes as Quinn chuckled.
“You’re a literal [Cultist], Bran. You should be the last person lecturing us about what’s morally right.”
Quinn spoke, waving a hand off. Bran sighed, lowering his head until his nose was pressed on the ground.
“Oh, my King, forgive them for they know not what they speak. When he comes, he shall literate us from this Mortal Realm. He shall grant us a place in his kingdom.”
Alix didn’t bother to indulge Bran’s insane ramblings, but Quinn continued to pour fuel into the fire.
“And how exactly are we supposed to dedicate ourselves to your Demon King? Sacrifice a little girl to him like you did?”
“Yes—”
Lying back down, Alix closed her eyes and hoped for the day to be over. She just wanted it all to end, already. Sometimes, she didn’t know why she kept fighting. Perhaps it was only her spite and anger towards her captors that kept her going.
If only I never went back to Elutra… if only I listened to my team and stayed out of this stupid war—
She wondered what they were doing. It had been four years since she saw them. Four long years of the worst fighting she’d been forced to go through. If she had her equipment— healing potions, artifacts, and the support of others— it wouldn’t have been so bad. But it was a near-death experience every single time she fought.
That was on top of the regular beatings she had to endure.
Alix’s fingers twitched. She reached for her collar. If she tore it off, she’d die. But… but perhaps it was the better alternative—
And the ground shook. The woman sat up, blinking. She turned to Quinn and Bran— both of whom had stopped their bickering as well.
“Did you guys feel that?”
“Of course I could—”
Quinn started, but was cut off by another heavy tremor, followed by the distant echo of an explosion. Alix leaned out of her cell, looking down the hallway— seeing shadows quickly rush past the dungeon. Panicked voices could be heard. And the ground shook again.
“What is going on?”
She asked, wide-eyed. The [Cultist] laughed maniacally as he stood up.
“It’s time! Our salvation has arrived!”
Bran spread his arms wide, loudly preaching for all the other gladiators to hear.
“My prayers have been answered! Rejoice, for our King has come to this earth to free us from our shackles! Praise him! Beg him to forgive you for your lack of faith— and maybe he shall spare you as well!”
Alix narrowed her eyes. That wasn’t possible. She didn’t want to believe it. But when she heard the cries from beyond the dungeon, she believed. And she was afraid.
“Demon attack! The Primeval Demon is invading Roguehollow!”
The scramblings continued for what felt like both a minute and an hour. Alix didn’t know how much time passed. Just that, eventually, a fancily dressed man stumbled into the dungeon. Alix recognized him instantly. He was the lord of the city. Sorel.
He began unlocking the cells as he spoke in a hurried voice.
“All of you— you stupid damn gladiators— hurry up and get moving!”
He yelled, whipping them into action. Quinn, Bran, and the other gladiators funneled out of their cells, completely confused. Alix blinked as she stared at him. He didn’t have his bodyguards present. He was alone and covered in blood.
He began pacing back and forth before them.
“Alright, alright, good. You guys are strong, right? Yes? And you want your freedom, right? I will grant you all your freedom if you escort me out of the city.”
Alix’s brows snapped together. That didn’t seem right.
“You haven’t told us what’s going on out there. Why is—”
Another explosion. Another earthquake. Dust dripped off the ceiling as Sorel stumbled back.
“I don’t have time to explain. Just listen to me or I’ll kill all of you right now.”
He gestured at the spell scroll. It was the original copy. Her eyes widened as he placed a hand on the symbol at the center.
“Now do as I say!”
Alix clenched a fist… and sighed. She nodded, picking up her sword and shield.
“Yes, lord Sorel.”
“Good… good…”
The lord laughed. He kept his finger on the activation symbol, slowly circling around the gladiators. He ushered them forward.
“Now move!”
Alix led the group, marching out of the dungeon as the other gladiators followed after her. Quinn strolled up to her, whistling.
“You looked like you were going to rip his head off there and then. What stopped you?”
“All it takes is a single thought for him to activate the kill enchantment in our collars. I’m no [Rogue]. I'd rather not test my speed against his reaction time.”
She shook her head.
“I’ll just steal that scroll from him when he’s off guard. Then we can get out of here and escape whatever this is.”
Her footfalls echoed as she finally exited the dungeon. She stepped into the outside world— into the streets of Roguehollow…
And paused. Alix blinked a few times as she saw the utter destruction that had been wrecked into the city. The walls of Roguehollow had fallen. Nothing but rubble and debris circled the perimeter of the city. Buildings had been toppled over. Houses burned. Farmland was razed to the ground.
Bodies— corpses of families— littered the sidewalk. The city’s guards were annihilated without any resistance. Smoke billowed up into the sky, darkening the clouds above and casting an eerie shadow over what had once been a bustling city.
“What… happened?”
Alix just stared. She couldn’t move. Her body didn’t want to move. Fear gripped her as she saw death and destruction, far worse than anything she’d seen in war. She was only snapped back to reality when she heard the monster shriek.
Sorel screamed, pointing at the desiccated figures clambering over a nearby pile of rubble.
“[Crypt Horrors]! Kill them! Kill them! Kill them!”
Alix tensed. She completely ignored the fact that the lord’s guard was down. She readied herself for the undead as they bumbled forward, screeching a terrible war cry. The gladiators clashed with the undead, cutting down the horde together.
The lord of the city just shouted at them. He whipped them from behind, tears streaming down his face.
“What are you idiots doing? Keep on going! We need to get out of here!”
Alix felt the whip lash against her back as she brought down a group of [Crypt Horrors]. She glanced back at him, then took in the rest of the city. She spotted Mindreapers zipping through the clouds of ash. She watched Gatho Mammoths trample over buildings with ease. And she realized… they were all going to die.
Sorel was using them as a meatshield. To get as far away from the city as possible. He didn’t intend to free any of them. Or for any of them but him to live, for that matter. He whipped Alix once more as she stood there, over the corpse of a [Crypt Lord].
And she caught the whip. She didn’t even flinch, even as the lashes drew blood from the palm of her hand. She tilted her head, looking at Sorel.
“What are you…?”
Sorel looked at her, befuddled. She pulled, and the man stumbled her way. Quinn called out to her in a worried voice.
“Alix, don’t be reckless. You were the one who said—”
“If we’re going to die anyway—”
She started, walking up to the fallen lord. Alix glanced over at Quinn, meeting his gaze briefly.
“We may as well die free.”
Sorel’s eyes widened as he watched the woman approach him. He leapt back up, holding up the spell scroll dangerously in his hands.
“Get back. I’m warning you!”
“Do it, lord Sorel. Kill me if you wish. But know that I will not die protecting scum like you.”
She didn’t move any faster. It was like she was strolling towards Sorel. It made the lord hesitate. She knew that he understood killing her would've ensured he died here. After all, she was the highest-leveled gladiator present.
“I will do it! I will—”
Sorel started, and she dashed forward. Alix reached the man a moment later, but the scroll was already glowing. Her eyes widened as he flinched.
Then a light cut through him. Alix came to a halt as a bright glow came down from the sky— like a blade— and cleanly sliced the lord in half. The spell scroll fell to the ground, burned from the energy alone of whatever that attack had been, as the ground was tore asunder.
“W-what…?”
Alix looked up towards the sky. Towards the source of that incredible power. She watched as the clouds of ash parted, and a winged figure descended. The fighting stopped as the [Crypt Horrors] and [Crypt Lords] came to a halt, while the gladiators turned their attention to the figure above.
What did Alix expect? She wasn’t sure what she’d been hoping to see. Perhaps an Elite Ranked adventurer with dove-like wings. Or a [Hero] dressed in divine garments, just as Alexander had been.
Instead, what she saw was a grotesque form. A pair of tiny, buzzing wings. Unnaturally round eyes. Ones that looked straight at every single gladiator present all at once.
It was a giant insect. It floated above them, studying their expressions as they just stood there in shock and fear. No— it was studying their collars. Their shackles. Their bindings.
Alix couldn’t identify it, but she could feel its power. There was something to it. A presence that forced her to her knees. She dropped her weapons, unable to turn away from this creature.
“Praise be, for he is here!”
Bran brought his arm arm, crying tears of joy. He walked forward, unafraid of this creature. The giant insect just peered at him as he continued.
“You all doubted me. You hated me, for I spoke the truth. But I was right all along.”
Alix trembled as she realized what the [Cultist] was saying.
“T-that thing… is a Demon?”
She spoke in disbelief. Quinn had no witty reply or remark to add. The gladiators just watched as Bran spun around, smiling wide.
“Repent, all you non-believers. For the Demon King Regnorex has returned—”
And there was a flash. The same bright light struck down at him, and he fell to the ground. Headless.
The Demon landed right next to his corpse, harrumphing.
“Pesky [Cultist]...”
Alix drew back as the Demon glanced over her way. It pointed at her, and she braced herself for what was to come next. But the Demon spoke simply.
“You. Why do you wear those shackles?”
Its voice was like nail on chalkboard to her. She wanted to claw her ears out, but managed to muster up the strength to reply.
“W-we are gladiators.”
“Gladiators?”
It tilted its head. She nodded stiffly.
“Slaves of the Inoria Empire.”
“Your people force your own kind into servitude? But… why?”
It asked, almost curiously. Alix wasn’t sure what to say. She just answered, like she was explaining the concept of a gladiator to a child.
“O-only in some countries. And we are forced to fight.”
“To fight?”
“For entertainment.”
Alix gestured at the coliseum behind the Demon. It fractionally turned its insect-like head before nodding.
“They pay to—”
“I understand now. That’s enough.”
The Demon faced Alix once again. But its gaze was clearly fixed on all the gladiators present now. An army of Mindreapers descended from the sky as the monsters rampaging through the city encroached on his location.
“I offer you an opportunity, Humans. To all those who are enslaved. I shall break your chains. I shall grant every Human slave their freedom. I shall grant you protection from your own kind. And all I ask for in return is for your strength.”
Was it being serious? Alix forced herself to her feet, even with shaky legs. Even if her knees felt like they wanted to buckle under her body weight. She held the Demon’s bulbous gaze.
“W-why are you doing this? Aren’t you a Demon? You just destroyed our city…”
“Perhaps.”
Its eyes flickered. Like it was thinking about something— recalling a memory.
“But my reasoning is beyond your mortal comprehension. Now give me your answer, Humans. And I, Belzu, the Lord of Lies, and [Hellprince] of the Netherworld, will be the first one to break the chains your own kin placed upon you.”
Was this really freedom? Wasn’t she just trading one form of servitude for another?
Alix didn’t know. But she was afraid. She was too afraid to say anything else. So, she answered the only thing she dared to answer.
“W-we pledge our allegiance to you, Lord Belzu.”
And the Demon laughed.
“Good. Now let us save our planes from their destruction.”
MelasD
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316. Interlude - Belzu's Blessing
Alix opened her eyes as the sounds of chains rattling echoed down the hallway. A sharp voice cut through the shadows, followed by a whip, a yelp, and then silence. Other figures stirred from their cells. Only the fresh faces. The ones who were still frightened of the daily beatings they took.
The guards dragged the bleeding body of a man back into one of the cells before locking it back up. They turned to Alix, and she sighed, rising to her feet.
“I’m coming, I’m coming—”
But they snickered. One of them raised a spell scroll, activating it. Alix’s eyes widened, and the collar around her neck shone. A jolt of electricity ran through her body. Sharp pain which caused her to fall on her knees, writhing on the ground.
“Hurry up, slave. It’s your turn. The people are waiting.”
The pain faded away as they lowered the scroll. Alix wanted to just rip the collar right off and smash the guards’ heads in, but she knew if she even so much as damaged the metal, its enchantments would take effect and her head would go flying right off. And each guard had a copy of the spell scroll with them. Even if she took out one and tore it up, it meant nothing. Not unless the original was destroyed.
So, she acquiesced. They handed her her signature sword and a shield as she made her way out of the cell and down the hallway.
“Fucking bastards…”
She muttered under her breath as they watched her go. Up ahead, she heard the cheers. The clamor and the cacophony of thousands of people. She stepped into the light, and found herself standing at the edge of a massive arena.
There were rows and rows of seats that rose up into the circular structure that girdled around the woman. A huge audience was here to watch her fight. And up ahead, a monster— a beast that stood nearly ten foot tall waited for her.
[Three-Headed Bear - Lvl. 81]
It’s nearly my level, Alix thought, taking on a defensive stance.
That was right. Even though she could be violently killed— even though her head could be brutally ripped off— the audience still cheered.
Past the monster, she stared at a man seated in a balcony. A kind of booth to overlook the arena. This man was well-dressed, surrounded by beautiful women who clamored for him. He smiled, and Alix’s gaze bore into him.
This was Roguehollow. One of the vilest cities in all of the Inoria Empire. Where slaves were made into gladiators like her. And that man was Sore— the lord of the city. The one responsible for her situation.
At one point in time, she’d been a respected adventurer. At one point in time, she’d been cheered on for saving towns and villages all across the Human lands. But now? She was nothing more than mere entertainment at his whim.
The monster roared, and Alix screamed. She charged it without thought— only driven by her rage.
—-
“Another day, another great show by the terrible Alix, eh?”
A voice called out as Alix lay in her cell, the back of her hand resting on her forehead. She didn’t even look up. She was covered in blood— both hers and the monster’s. They offered her only a dapping of healing potion. Low grade, too. It wouldn’t fix up even half of the wounds she took from the battle.
“Fuck you, Quinn.”
She sat up, shooting a glare at the other gladiator neighboring her cell. He wore a shit-eating grin on his face, despite the many scars he himself bore.
“You don’t know what it’s like to face a monster as strong as you every fucking week. All you have to do is warmup the crowd with your little circus acts.”
“Hey, I’m not the one who decided to be a former Platinum Ranked adventurer. I’m just a little Silver Rank, minding my own business and warming up the crowd for the main event.”
He shrugged casually. Alix scowled, and another voice spoke up.
“The both of you lack faith. You were led down an erroneous path in life, and now you are forced to suffer.”
An older man shook his head. He sat in the middle of his cell, arms crossed as his lips were curled up. Alix narrowed her eyes.
“The fuck are you on about, Bran?”
“There is only one true path to salvation. Surrender your mortal desires, and you too shall find glory everlasting.”
He sounded like he was a [Priest]. Like he was preaching the sanctity of what was right and just. But Alix knew better. She rolled her eyes as Quinn chuckled.
“You’re a literal [Cultist], Bran. You should be the last person lecturing us about what’s morally right.”
Quinn spoke, waving a hand off. Bran sighed, lowering his head until his nose was pressed on the ground.
“Oh, my King, forgive them for they know not what they speak. When he comes, he shall literate us from this Mortal Realm. He shall grant us a place in his kingdom.”
Alix didn’t bother to indulge Bran’s insane ramblings, but Quinn continued to pour fuel into the fire.
“And how exactly are we supposed to dedicate ourselves to your Demon King? Sacrifice a little girl to him like you did?”
“Yes—”
Lying back down, Alix closed her eyes and hoped for the day to be over. She just wanted it all to end, already. Sometimes, she didn’t know why she kept fighting. Perhaps it was only her spite and anger towards her captors that kept her going.
If only I never went back to Elutra… if only I listened to my team and stayed out of this stupid war—
She wondered what they were doing. It had been four years since she saw them. Four long years of the worst fighting she’d been forced to go through. If she had her equipment— healing potions, artifacts, and the support of others— it wouldn’t have been so bad. But it was a near-death experience every single time she fought.
That was on top of the regular beatings she had to endure.
Alix’s fingers twitched. She reached for her collar. If she tore it off, she’d die. But… but perhaps it was the better alternative—
And the ground shook. The woman sat up, blinking. She turned to Quinn and Bran— both of whom had stopped their bickering as well.
“Did you guys feel that?”
“Of course I could—”
Quinn started, but was cut off by another heavy tremor, followed by the distant echo of an explosion. Alix leaned out of her cell, looking down the hallway— seeing shadows quickly rush past the dungeon. Panicked voices could be heard. And the ground shook again.
“What is going on?”
She asked, wide-eyed. The [Cultist] laughed maniacally as he stood up.
“It’s time! Our salvation has arrived!”
Bran spread his arms wide, loudly preaching for all the other gladiators to hear.
“My prayers have been answered! Rejoice, for our King has come to this earth to free us from our shackles! Praise him! Beg him to forgive you for your lack of faith— and maybe he shall spare you as well!”
Alix narrowed her eyes. That wasn’t possible. She didn’t want to believe it. But when she heard the cries from beyond the dungeon, she believed. And she was afraid.
“Demon attack! The Primeval Demon is invading Roguehollow!”
The scramblings continued for what felt like both a minute and an hour. Alix didn’t know how much time passed. Just that, eventually, a fancily dressed man stumbled into the dungeon. Alix recognized him instantly. He was the lord of the city. Sorel.
He began unlocking the cells as he spoke in a hurried voice.
“All of you— you stupid damn gladiators— hurry up and get moving!”
He yelled, whipping them into action. Quinn, Bran, and the other gladiators funneled out of their cells, completely confused. Alix blinked as she stared at him. He didn’t have his bodyguards present. He was alone and covered in blood.
He began pacing back and forth before them.
“Alright, alright, good. You guys are strong, right? Yes? And you want your freedom, right? I will grant you all your freedom if you escort me out of the city.”
Alix’s brows snapped together. That didn’t seem right.
“You haven’t told us what’s going on out there. Why is—”
Another explosion. Another earthquake. Dust dripped off the ceiling as Sorel stumbled back.
“I don’t have time to explain. Just listen to me or I’ll kill all of you right now.”
He gestured at the spell scroll. It was the original copy. Her eyes widened as he placed a hand on the symbol at the center.
“Now do as I say!”
Alix clenched a fist… and sighed. She nodded, picking up her sword and shield.
“Yes, lord Sorel.”
“Good… good…”
The lord laughed. He kept his finger on the activation symbol, slowly circling around the gladiators. He ushered them forward.
“Now move!”
Alix led the group, marching out of the dungeon as the other gladiators followed after her. Quinn strolled up to her, whistling.
“You looked like you were going to rip his head off there and then. What stopped you?”
“All it takes is a single thought for him to activate the kill enchantment in our collars. I’m no [Rogue]. I'd rather not test my speed against his reaction time.”
She shook her head.
“I’ll just steal that scroll from him when he’s off guard. Then we can get out of here and escape whatever this is.”
Her footfalls echoed as she finally exited the dungeon. She stepped into the outside world— into the streets of Roguehollow…
And paused. Alix blinked a few times as she saw the utter destruction that had been wrecked into the city. The walls of Roguehollow had fallen. Nothing but rubble and debris circled the perimeter of the city. Buildings had been toppled over. Houses burned. Farmland was razed to the ground.
Bodies— corpses of families— littered the sidewalk. The city’s guards were annihilated without any resistance. Smoke billowed up into the sky, darkening the clouds above and casting an eerie shadow over what had once been a bustling city.
“What… happened?”
Alix just stared. She couldn’t move. Her body didn’t want to move. Fear gripped her as she saw death and destruction, far worse than anything she’d seen in war. She was only snapped back to reality when she heard the monster shriek.
Sorel screamed, pointing at the desiccated figures clambering over a nearby pile of rubble.
“[Crypt Horrors]! Kill them! Kill them! Kill them!”
Alix tensed. She completely ignored the fact that the lord’s guard was down. She readied herself for the undead as they bumbled forward, screeching a terrible war cry. The gladiators clashed with the undead, cutting down the horde together.
The lord of the city just shouted at them. He whipped them from behind, tears streaming down his face.
“What are you idiots doing? Keep on going! We need to get out of here!”
Alix felt the whip lash against her back as she brought down a group of [Crypt Horrors]. She glanced back at him, then took in the rest of the city. She spotted Mindreapers zipping through the clouds of ash. She watched Gatho Mammoths trample over buildings with ease. And she realized… they were all going to die.
Sorel was using them as a meatshield. To get as far away from the city as possible. He didn’t intend to free any of them. Or for any of them but him to live, for that matter. He whipped Alix once more as she stood there, over the corpse of a [Crypt Lord].
And she caught the whip. She didn’t even flinch, even as the lashes drew blood from the palm of her hand. She tilted her head, looking at Sorel.
“What are you…?”
Sorel looked at her, befuddled. She pulled, and the man stumbled her way. Quinn called out to her in a worried voice.
“Alix, don’t be reckless. You were the one who said—”
“If we’re going to die anyway—”
She started, walking up to the fallen lord. Alix glanced over at Quinn, meeting his gaze briefly.
“We may as well die free.”
Sorel’s eyes widened as he watched the woman approach him. He leapt back up, holding up the spell scroll dangerously in his hands.
“Get back. I’m warning you!”
“Do it, lord Sorel. Kill me if you wish. But know that I will not die protecting scum like you.”
She didn’t move any faster. It was like she was strolling towards Sorel. It made the lord hesitate. She knew that he understood killing her would've ensured he died here. After all, she was the highest-leveled gladiator present.
“I will do it! I will—”
Sorel started, and she dashed forward. Alix reached the man a moment later, but the scroll was already glowing. Her eyes widened as he flinched.
Then a light cut through him. Alix came to a halt as a bright glow came down from the sky— like a blade— and cleanly sliced the lord in half. The spell scroll fell to the ground, burned from the energy alone of whatever that attack had been, as the ground was tore asunder.
“W-what…?”
Alix looked up towards the sky. Towards the source of that incredible power. She watched as the clouds of ash parted, and a winged figure descended. The fighting stopped as the [Crypt Horrors] and [Crypt Lords] came to a halt, while the gladiators turned their attention to the figure above.
What did Alix expect? She wasn’t sure what she’d been hoping to see. Perhaps an Elite Ranked adventurer with dove-like wings. Or a [Hero] dressed in divine garments, just as Alexander had been.
Instead, what she saw was a grotesque form. A pair of tiny, buzzing wings. Unnaturally round eyes. Ones that looked straight at every single gladiator present all at once.
It was a giant insect. It floated above them, studying their expressions as they just stood there in shock and fear. No— it was studying their collars. Their shackles. Their bindings.
Alix couldn’t identify it, but she could feel its power. There was something to it. A presence that forced her to her knees. She dropped her weapons, unable to turn away from this creature.
“Praise be, for he is here!”
Bran brought his arm arm, crying tears of joy. He walked forward, unafraid of this creature. The giant insect just peered at him as he continued.
“You all doubted me. You hated me, for I spoke the truth. But I was right all along.”
Alix trembled as she realized what the [Cultist] was saying.
“T-that thing… is a Demon?”
She spoke in disbelief. Quinn had no witty reply or remark to add. The gladiators just watched as Bran spun around, smiling wide.
“Repent, all you non-believers. For the Demon King Regnorex has returned—”
And there was a flash. The same bright light struck down at him, and he fell to the ground. Headless.
The Demon landed right next to his corpse, harrumphing.
“Pesky [Cultist]...”
Alix drew back as the Demon glanced over her way. It pointed at her, and she braced herself for what was to come next. But the Demon spoke simply.
“You. Why do you wear those shackles?”
Its voice was like nail on chalkboard to her. She wanted to claw her ears out, but managed to muster up the strength to reply.
“W-we are gladiators.”
“Gladiators?”
It tilted its head. She nodded stiffly.
“Slaves of the Inoria Empire.”
“Your people force your own kind into servitude? But… why?”
It asked, almost curiously. Alix wasn’t sure what to say. She just answered, like she was explaining the concept of a gladiator to a child.
“O-only in some countries. And we are forced to fight.”
“To fight?”
“For entertainment.”
Alix gestured at the coliseum behind the Demon. It fractionally turned its insect-like head before nodding.
“They pay to—”
“I understand now. That’s enough.”
The Demon faced Alix once again. But its gaze was clearly fixed on all the gladiators present now. An army of Mindreapers descended from the sky as the monsters rampaging through the city encroached on his location.
“I offer you an opportunity, Humans. To all those who are enslaved. I shall break your chains. I shall grant every Human slave their freedom. I shall grant you protection from your own kind. And all I ask for in return is for your strength.”
Was it being serious? Alix forced herself to her feet, even with shaky legs. Even if her knees felt like they wanted to buckle under her body weight. She held the Demon’s bulbous gaze.
“W-why are you doing this? Aren’t you a Demon? You just destroyed our city…”
“Perhaps.”
Its eyes flickered. Like it was thinking about something— recalling a memory.
“But my reasoning is beyond your mortal comprehension. Now give me your answer, Humans. And I, Belzu, the Lord of Lies, and [Hellprince] of the Netherworld, will be the first one to break the chains your own kin placed upon you.”
Was this really freedom? Wasn’t she just trading one form of servitude for another?
Alix didn’t know. But she was afraid. She was too afraid to say anything else. So, she answered the only thing she dared to answer.
“W-we pledge our allegiance to you, Lord Belzu.”
And the Demon laughed.
“Good. Now let us save our planes from their destruction.”
MelasD
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