Vale walked through the vast hall of the colosseum beside Korin, his boots echoing softly against polished white stone.
The structure towered over them with immense scale, pillars stretching upward like the trunks of ancient trees while curved arches disappeared into shadow far above.
Torches mounted along the walls burned with steady orange flame despite the daylight spilling through distant openings, their light dancing across engraved murals of warriors, beasts, and kings long forgotten. The deeper they walked into the structure, the louder the noise became.
At first it was only a distant murmur, but with every step it swelled further into a living roar, thousands upon thousands of voices merging together into one monstrous wave of excitement.
Vale swallowed once as he glanced around. Even after everything he had witnessed since arriving in this world, the sheer scale of the place unsettled him. There was something oppressive about it. The air itself felt heavy, thick with anticipation and bloodlust.
Korin glanced down at him briefly, noticing the tension written across Vale's face, though he wisely chose not to comment on it. His massive frame moved calmly beside him, one hand resting loosely at his side while the other occasionally brushed the stone wall as they ascended the winding staircase. Neither of them spoke. The silence between them was not awkward, merely tense, as though both instinctively understood what waited above.
Step after step carried them higher until finally brilliant sunlight appeared ahead at the end of the stairway.
Vale straightened his eyes immediately.
"Ugh…"
He lifted a hand to shield his face as they emerged into the open air, and in the next instant the full force of the colosseum struck him.
The noise was deafening.
Thousands of spectators screamed, cheered, laughed, and shouted from every direction. The arena itself stretched outward in a colossal circle beneath the open sky, rows upon rows of stone seating packed with people from every part of Irea. Nobles dressed in expensive fabrics lounged high above while the poor crowded together lower down, separated not merely by architecture but by status itself. Banners waved overhead. Vendors moved through the aisles. Somewhere below, someone screamed in terror while others roared in delight.
Vale stepped forward slowly, his pale eyes widening.
The balcony they had arrived upon overlooked the entire arena from high above, reserved for figures of importance. Rich crimson carpets covered the floor beneath their feet, and elegant chairs rested beneath shaded coverings to protect their occupants from the heat of the sun. Yet Vale barely noticed any of it. His attention had already locked onto the battlefield below.
The arena itself was enormous, easily dozens upon dozens of meters across. Pale sand covered the ground, stained darker in countless places where blood had long ago seeped into it. Surrounding the battlefield stood a massive hexagonal barrier constructed from translucent energy plates, each shimmering faintly beneath the sunlight. Vale immediately understood its purpose, it was meant to keep the creatures inside from reaching the audience.
Though judging by the claw marks and cracks covering portions of the barrier, that protection was not always guaranteed.
His eyes narrowed further as he focused on the current match unfolding below.
Three gladiators stood surrounded by five enormous wolf-like beasts. The creatures were monstrous things, each standing over two meters tall at the shoulder, their bodies covered in dark armored fur while jagged bone-like protrusions extended from their backs and jaws. Saliva dripped from their mouths as they circled their prey slowly, intelligent enough to coordinate their movements.
The three men trapped in the center were exhausted already.
One of them immediately caught Vale's attention.
A man in his thirties, missing an arm.
Lucias.
Vale's expression tightened the moment he recognized him. Lucias gripped a long spear with his remaining hand, sweat pouring down his face as he struggled to keep the beasts at bay. The other two gladiators beside him looked no better, both visibly wounded and breathing heavily as the wolves slowly closed in around them.
Before Vale could speak, a voice came from nearby.
"Seems like you made it," Drago said calmly. "And you brought a friend."
Vale turned.
Drago sat comfortably within an ornate chair positioned near the edge of the balcony, looking more like royalty than a baker. One leg rested casually over the other while his violet eyes observed the battle below with detached focus. Several guards stood nearby, though none dared interrupt him.
Vale's eyes narrowed slightly before he looked back toward the arena.
"Yeah," he answered quietly.
Korin remained standing behind him, though Vale noticed the larger boy's hands slowly tightening around the metal railing before them.
Then Vale spoke again.
"They'll save those people, right?"
Drago glanced sideways at him.
His expression was cold and emotionless.
"No."
"If those gladiators fail to kill the beasts," Drago continued evenly, "then they die alongside them."
Vale stared at him.
Below, the crowd erupted into cheers as one of the wolves lunged forward.
Drago's eyes remained fixed on the arena.
"That is why people come here," he said quietly, though bitterness hid beneath his words. "The rich gamble on death. The poor gamble because they are desperate enough to hope. Men, women, children, they gather here to celebrate slaughter as entertainment. Every scream below feeds coin into the hands of another."
His jaw tightened faintly.
"It is an endless cycle."
Vale's gaze darkened.
"Then why bring me here at all?" he asked grimly. "You know I'm not exactly fond of watching people die."
Drago finally looked directly at him.
"Because you needed to see it."
His voice had lost all warmth now.
"You needed to understand why we stand against this city. Why we fight. Why we rebel."
He slowly raised a finger toward the arena below.
"So watch."
Below them the battle worsened rapidly.
Lucias planted his spear low, carefully tracking two wolves at once while the other gladiators struggled against the remaining beasts. Vale tightened his grip against the railing unconsciously.
"What category are they?" he asked without looking away.
"All category two's," Drago replied.
Vale's eyes narrowed further.
Category two's.
Not impossible to kill, but deadly enough that ordinary people stood little chance against even one.
And there were five.
The wolves attacked together.
Lucias moved immediately, twisting his body and driving his spear beneath the jaw of the first beast before ripping it free in a spray of blood. The second lunged from the side, its claws tearing through the sand as it snapped toward his throat. Lucias narrowly avoided it with a desperate spin,
but a third wolf appeared instantly beside him.
Its jaws clamped onto his armored arm.
The crowd exploded with excitement.
Lucias roared in pain as the beast violently swung him through the air like prey. The armor prevented the limb from being ripped off immediately, but Vale could already hear the metal groaning beneath the pressure.
The other gladiators tried to help, but the remaining wolves pinned them down completely.
Vale's breathing slowed.
Korin beside him visibly trembled with restrained rage, his enormous fingers digging into the steel railing hard enough to bend it inward.
Neither of them moved.
But Vale's eyes straightened further and further as Lucias crashed violently across the arena floor.
Then the wolves cornered them.
The three men backed toward the wall directly beneath the balcony while five beasts slowly closed in around them. The audience screamed for blood.
Drago chuckled softly beside Vale.
And then Vale reached into his armor.
His fingers found the familiar object immediately.
The black onyx mask.
Golden sunlight had been etched across its surface, forming the shape of a radiant sun. Vale stared at it silently for one brief moment before pulling it over his face.
Drago's grin widened.
"Seems I was right about you," he said.
Vale's voice emerged distorted beneath the mask, deeper now, impossible to recognize by anyone.
"Any more words, old man?"
Drago leaned forward slightly, amusement burning in his eyes.
"Kill them all."
A grin spread beneath the mask.
"Roger that."
Then Vale moved.
He sprinted forward without hesitation and launched himself from the balcony.
The world blurred around him.
Gasps erupted from the crowd as his body plummeted downward through the openings between the hexagonal barrier plates. Wind screamed past him while sunlight flashed across black steel.
Mid-fall, Vale drew both onyx blades.
The wolves noticed him too late.
He landed directly atop the central beast.
CRACK.
One blade pierced clean through its skull with enough force to split bone and drive the corpse into the sand beneath him. The wolf died instantly, collapsing before it could even cry out.
The entire colosseum fell silent.
Vale ripped the blade free smoothly and stepped forward, positioning himself between the surviving gladiators and the remaining four beasts.
Up close, the creatures were even larger than they appeared from above. Towering monsters covered in muscle and armored fur, their yellow eyes locking onto him immediately as low growls echoed through the arena.
Behind Vale, the gladiators stood frozen in disbelief.
Lucias stared at the masked stranger with wide eyes, blood dripping from his shattered armor.
The beasts slowly spread out.
Vale rolled his shoulders once.
Then he raised both blades calmly.
"Do not worry, beasts," the deep voice beneath the mask echoed across the silent arena.
The wolves snarled.
Vale lowered his stance.
"You shall be put to rest now."