Chapter 90
- Kaysi -
Once through the doors, they dragged us through a massive circular corridor lined with cells and jagged iron gates. Through one of them, I heard sobbing. Through another, someone was laughing—long, broken laughter that didn't stop even when we passed out of earshot.
Evan stood first. "Where are you taking us?"
The demon just grinned. "Entertainment."
The doors groaned open.
The guards shoved us forward into a larger space, laughing among themselves like they'd already seen our deaths. This was a cavern with stands like an arena. I blinked against the red torchlight.
In the center: bloodstains, bones, and weapons dulled and broken from use. A ring of scorched stone formed the fighting pit. Chains hung from above, some still dripping with… something. The heat was suffocating. The air thrummed with cruel anticipation.
The arena loomed around us—an enormous, open space hollowed into the Abyss itself. The stands were packed, layer upon layer of demons, guards, and prisoners alike. Some were chanting. Others just screamed, eyes glowing, claws tapping in excitement. The stink of blood and rot was thick in the air.
Evan stood beside me, silent, sword held low. My fingers wrapped around my hilt, every nerve in my body on fire.
From the far end of the arena, a tall, fox-faced demon walked out, his long, scarred snout split with a broad, crooked grin that could slice glass—red eyes and armored chest. But something about him made my skin crawl more than the others. It wasn't just the size. It was the aura—like he enjoyed all of this far too much.
"That's the warren," one of the guards hissed, as if in reverence. "Warden, Lord of the Pit. Old friend of Benjamin."
My heart kicked. Evan didn't flinch, but his grip on the sword tightened.
He raised a clawed hand, and the noise dulled to a deep hum.
The warden's voice boomed across the ring. "We've got fresh meat today. Two Waymakers, if my scouts tell the truth. A rare catch. They've been living soft on Earth for far too long. Let's see if they've still got teeth."
The crowd rumbled, more laughter, others howled, and some snarled.
"Win three rounds," the warden said, "and maybe you'll earn your chains. Win five? Maybe a deal. A sentence reduced, a privilege restored."
"Let's see if that fire holds when their lungs fill with blood."
Evan leaned toward me. "That's what the guy meant by the Pit."
I nodded slowly, heart sinking. "It's a game for their entertainment."
"A punishment dressed up like hope." Evan sighed.
The chains were unlocked from our ankles, but our wrists stayed bound with loose shackles, just enough to fight. Evan's sword was tossed toward him like trash, clattering against the stone.
I looked down at my sword and felt its weight—still dulled—still a joke.
We were shoved to the center of the ring.
A deep rumble sounded as the far gate of what I could only imagine was a cell for some creature creaked open.
From the darkness came two creatures—both demon prisoners. One was lean and scorpion-like, crawling sideways with too many legs. The other was massive and malformed, dragging a rusted axe as big as my body.
"They sent us in first," I muttered, readying my stance. "To test the crowd, I am guessing."
Evan grunted and cracked his neck. "Then let's give them a show!"
The first beast lunged—Evan parried, twisting around and slashing low. I charged the bigger one, slamming my blade across its chest. It barely flinched, then brought its axe down with a roar. I rolled and felt the wind of the blade as it crashed into the floor where I'd stood.
Evan and I moved in sync. We fought as though we had done this before... Muscle memory. I didn't doubt what Evan said was true, but it is still hard for my mind to wrap around.
Another gate opened up.
Two more demons. Then another wave.
The crowd loved it—screaming with every spray of blood, every limb lost, and every bone broken. It wasn't a match. It was a culling.
We were drenched in sweat, panting, bruised, and bloodied. My lip was split, and my clothes were more torn than before. Evan had a shallow gash over his eye that was now starting to swell.
"Damn it, Evan, hang in there!" I already patched you up once today.
We didn't stop; we couldn't.
But neither did they.
Then, from the far corner of the arena where the warren stood, a shout.
"Wait!" A demon guard's voice boomed over the crowd, also, though they were trying to listen in.
A demon guard had stood from the shadows of the pit wall. He pointed at Evan, eyes wide.
"That one! The boy!" he bellowed. "He's the one who killed Benjamin!"
The crowd went still.
The warden's smile vanished. His eyes flashed, locking onto Evan's.
Silence reigned for three seconds—then the stands erupted in rage. Shrieking. Chanting. "Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!"The fox-faced warden rose to his full height.
With a single leap from across the arena, he landed in the pit, a few feet from Evan.
Dust scattered. The ring fell dead quiet again.
"I liked Benjamin; he was like a brother to me," the warden said, stepping forward. "He wasn't the smartest, but he had loyalty. And you—" He pointed a clawed finger at Evan. "You took him down like a dog."
Evan stood firm, barely breathing. I moved to his side, raising my blade with shaking hands.
The warden cracked his neck. He was inches from Evans' face. We could feel his hot breath as he spoke.
"I'll take you out myself."
His claws flashing, teeth bared. Evan ducked under the first swipe and struck once, but the blade barely scratched the demon's hide.
"Evan!" I shouted.
A claw caught him across the previous wound on his chest, sending him sprawling.
The warden raised his arm for the killing blow.
And then—
"STOP."
The voice thundered. Echoed. Cracked through the arena like a bolt of lightning.
Everyone froze.
A figure stood at the edge of the pit, cloak torn, arms crossed, eyes burning.