CH: 27: Entry Into The Arena

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{Chapter: 27: Entry Into The Arena}

Dex arched a brow, intrigued but not entirely convinced.

Zenit Hall was renowned as the most luxurious establishment in the city, a high-class pleasure house where fallen noblewomen, disgraced daughters of ruined families, and other well-bred but unfortunate women sought patrons. Unlike common prostitutes, these women possessed refinement, education, and charm, beauty and figure, making them highly desirable to aristocrats and influential figures.

The Arena, on the other hand, was a more primal and barbaric entertainment venue. It followed the ancient traditions of bloodsport, where criminals, slaves, and even trained warriors fought to the death for the amusement of the audience. Bets were placed, fortunes were won and lost, and the spectacle of violence kept the city entertained.

Dex pondered for a moment before responding, "Take me to the Arena. I have no interest in a place like Zenit Hall. If I need it, it would be better to use you."

Although the demon race does not prioritize values such as loyalty, companionship, and passion. His memories from his previous life as a human contribute to his mental clarity and strong possessiveness regarding these matters.. As a result, he does not seem particularly interested in the bus privatization project. If he has any ideas, are the housekeeper and maids simply ornamental?

Since she was specially arranged by James Woz, her quality was top-notch at best. Could it be that she is worse than those high-level prostitutes?

His words, though casual, made the housekeeper blush slightly. She lowered her gaze, keeping her expression composed despite the slight redness on her cheeks.

As a woman in a noble household, she understood the realities of her position. Though she held the prestigious title of housekeeper, her true value lay not only in her management skills but also in her ability to serve her master in whatever way he desired.

Dex was no ordinary noble. Even the crown prince treated him with a cautious respect that bordered on reverence. Serving under someone like him was an opportunity few women could hope for. The fact that he even acknowledged her in such a way made her heart flutter slightly.

As a noble housekeeper, although her status was much higher than that of ordinary people, she had no ability to resist her master, because all her power came from Dex, and she had been mentally prepared for this.

What is the biggest advantage of being a woman, especially a beautiful woman?

She knows it very well.

She had prayed countless times during her training, hoping to be assigned to a kind, powerful master. And now, it seemed the gods had answered her prayers far beyond her expectations.

Whether it is Dex's temperament and appearance or his status that makes the crown prince try hard to please him, he can be considered the best target!

It was even far beyond her original expectations, which made her often thank the gods for their favor; therefore, she had no reason to resist…

Little did she know, if Dex could read her thoughts, he would scoff at the idea that any god had granted her favor. If anything, the gods must have either been blind or completely indifferent, considering he, a literal demon, had somehow sneak in to make up the numbers. In short, there was no hope for her!

The ride continued in relative silence, save for the rhythmic sounds of the horses and the occasional murmur of the maids seated respectfully nearby. Dex's mind drifted between idle thoughts and calculations about future plans.

Before long, the carriage came to a halt in front of a grand structure—a towering marble arch adorned with intricate carvings and gold inlays. It marked the entrance to the capital's famed Arena.

The moment the servants stationed at the entrance caught sight of the carriage and the royal banners fluttering atop it, their expressions shifted instantly.

One young man, barely in his twenties and dressed in a neatly pressed uniform, visibly tensed before adopting an exaggeratedly servile smile. He moved with practiced precision, quickly fetching a polished mahogany step stool, placing it carefully beside the carriage door, and bowing deeply.

His smile was so eager, so desperate to please, that it might have looked more affectionate than what he would give his own parents.

Dex observed the scene with mild amusement, but otherwise remained silent. He had no need for flattery—just efficiency.

As the carriage door swung open, the air filled with the distant sounds of roaring spectators, the clang of weapons, and the unmistakable scent of blood.

A small smirk formed on Dex's lips.

Finally, something interesting.

Dex descended the carriage steps with a languid grace, his polished boots landing softly upon the mahogany step laid down by the trembling servant. The moment his figure straightened, it became abundantly clear to every onlooker who among the group held true authority. The housekeeper, along with the two exquisitely dressed maids, followed closely in his wake, their eyes lowered with reverent submission and movements timed with disciplined precision. They took up positions at his flanks, completing the picture of a lord flanked by loyal retainers.

The nearby attendants and arena staff paused in their duties. Conversations fell into murmurs. A few bold spectators tried to discreetly catch a glimpse, drawn by the sheer otherworldly aura that surrounded Dex.

A middle-aged man, clearly of some influence given his richly embroidered doublet and the cluster of gemstone rings on his fingers, approached swiftly. His portly figure jiggled slightly with each step, yet his smile remained fixed and professional. It was clear from his behavior that he had long since mastered the art of fawning over those above his station.

However, when his eyes landed upon Dex's face, his steps faltered ever so slightly.

Scarlet hair like wildfire in the sun, eyes that blazed with golden pupils encased in crimson irises—an eerie, captivating contrast that radiated danger and mystery. Dex's appearance did not resemble any known race or noble bloodline. To a man like him, who prided himself on knowing every influential family within the capital and beyond, this was unsettling.

Yet the man quickly recovered, his ingrained instinct for flattery overpowering his initial hesitation. With an even wider smile, he bowed and introduced himself with a flourish. "Good day, my lord. I am Manan Otis, one of the primary supervisors of this esteemed establishment. Might I assume this is your first visit to our Arena? I would surely remember someone with such striking countenance."

Dex turned to him with the barest hint of amusement in his expression, intrigued by the mix of suspicion and deference beneath the man's polished exterior. "You're correct. First time. Anything fun to recommend?"

Manan's eyes twinkled as if he'd just drawn a winning hand at cards. "Ah, indeed, my lord, fortune smiles upon you today. You've chosen a grand day to visit. Soon, a climactic duel will take place—an elite knight of the royal order against a Qia Demon Lion, freshly imported from the Bloodfang Wastes. Both combatants are worth more than their weight in gold, and each could decimate an entire unit of common soldiers on their own. This will surely be one of the bloodiest, most exhilarating spectacles of the season."

"That does sound... entertaining," Dex replied, his lips curling slightly. "Prepare me a seat—the best one."

"Certainly, my lord, certainly!" Manan bowed again, his face flushed with excitement. "Just a small note, today's match is a premium event, so the box seats—especially the prime viewing booth—come at a higher rate. The price is 700 gold coins."

Dex didn't even blink. He gestured lazily to the housekeeper. "Pay him."

Without hesitation, she stepped forward and produced a golden card, flicking it into Manan's waiting palm. The transaction was swift, smooth, and silently declared the visitor's extreme wealth.

As Dex was respectfully ushered inside by a line of attendants, Manan remained near the archway, his smile slowly fading as he stared after the strange noble.

'Half-blood?' he wondered silently. 'Or something else entirely?'

He couldn't place the noble's origin, and that disturbed him. The red hair, golden-pupil eyes, and overwhelming pressure that clung to Dex like a second skin—it was unlike anything he'd seen, or even heard rumors about. The unease only deepened as he recalled the aura that made his instincts scream to keep his distance.

Yet, he couldn't afford to offend someone who traveled with royal banners fluttering from his carriage and exuded the confidence of someone accustomed to power. For now, he would observe and entertain.

The corridor into the arena was richly adorned, with walls lined in crimson velvet and columns carved from dark marble that shimmered faintly with enchantments. Golden sconces held everburning torches, casting a warm and flickering glow across the hall. Noble families from all corners of the principality had donated to beautify this sacred place of blood and glory.

Dex strode through it leisurely, humming an eerie lullaby known among the children of Marton—a nursery rhyme with macabre undertones about shadows that danced under the moonlight and children who wandered too far. The lullaby he created and spread.

"The bones go crack, the blood runs red, the moonlight hums, the eyes see dead~"

The maids behind him shivered unconsciously at the tune. It was not something noble guests typically sang on their way to enjoy an evening's entertainment.

But Dex wasn't like other nobles.

His eyes, when narrowed and focused, saw more than surface appearances. Beneath the gilded glamour of the arena, he perceived the layers of spiritual residue that stained this place. He could almost see the agony of countless souls whose lives had ended in the ring, echoing faintly in the form of wisps of despair. The opulence here did not wash away the stench of old blood and cruelty—it only gilded it.

"Ah... the air smells wonderfully wicked," Dex murmured with a smirk, his voice low. "It's like a homecoming."

To his eyes, reality shimmered between two states. One was what the world believed: a glorious monument to sport, bravery, and nobility. The other was the true visage—a place drenched in sorrow, painted in invisible blood, haunted by the wrathful whispers of the dead. It reminded him of the Abyss, that eternal sinkhole of damnation, where even the stones wept and the winds howled with regret.

Compared to that, this place almost seemed nostalgic.

Even some sacrificial altars of mad cults didn't possess this heavy aura of guilt, sin and anger. It wasn't a matter of rituals, but of accumulation. Only time, layered with hundreds of thousands of deaths and a society that celebrated them, could brew such a potent spiritual miasma.

In a strange way, it made Dex smile wider. Among all the soft, pampered nobles of this world, this place stood as a testament to raw cruelty wrapped in silk.

"Such sincerity," Dex whispered to himself. "Even Hell Lords would be impressed."

Behind him, the housekeeper glanced sideways at the maids. They, too, looked unsettled, though none dared speak. For all their training and discipline, the aura of their master occasionally reminded them that he may not be a fully human—perhaps not even close.

But as always, they followed in silence, the golden hall echoing with the soft clicks of boots against marble, and the chilling tune of a demon who saw beauty in blood and song in screams.

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New workout alert! "Marvel: The Infinite Crown" - let's make our library even cooler!.