“Tomi ges vidi? Dho mez? Ars le dho cin kiz qell haela un tias’o. Aefrkozs’i, arn li elie kocen reped. Ars’e urpo yest bec mortevan, pre tias’o!”

Once again, while the cheers intensified to a deafening degree, new sounds became mixed in. Lutiel’s ears perked up as he heard them, thinking he might have heard wrong.

The crowd hooted the slave, either with laughter, ridicule, or threats. Sometimes, a concoction of them all.

Yet, to the slave that had been divulged, it was nothing of the sort.

“Ahh, you stinking demons, is this all? I can’t hear you! Eh? Eh? What was that? That tongue of yours barely makes any sense, you know?” he taunted the demons, seemingly working.

Getting them heated, even the announcer spoke with an irked undertone.

“Pat ne jun gupi! Ars misla ars yist olvi mac nud tias’o! Ars, dlar cin’y, inbie yast e vota! Ars zceal bic vicad punt involni tika’a, dlar dho lyine hael paova’nu, jun cin bic’yr dho cin’ie.”

For a full minute, Lutiel’s ears shook from the resounding claps and cheers, only stopping when the next set of chains began being pulled.

Amidst the confusing circumstances, light peeked through from under the cage he had been contained within.

Lighting up his rosy-pale skin around the bare feet, Lutiel could finally see what was below him. Standing on the sand, filled with crushed up teeth, as well as patches of dried up blood, a foreboding premonition shook over his internal organs.

Before he even knew it, the world beyond finally introduced itself to him.

Turning his gaze around the place, he witnessed the crowd. So many demons had only ever revealed themselves to him on the battlefields. No, scouring through the round arena’s seats, Lutiel couldn’t estimate just how many of them there were.

The words of the merchant not collecting inside his head, the white-haired man simply gazed across the countless demons, all of different looks.

Covering each of the colors he could think of, scales, fur, or either nothing covered their dim skins. Donning the top of their heads, only a certain portion of their spawn gathered possessed a single horn. The rest were without one, vibrant hairs sat on top of their skulls.

As for the one he swiftly searched for, she possessed two of them. Being the only demon in the whole space around the arena to bear such, no one would be able to deny her presence.

Yet, as he finally gazed at her, his head immediately turned away. The demon lord’s eyes, as well as his, met for a singular, brief period. Not expecting her to be locked onto him so potently, Lutiel turned to his namesake instead.

Wearing the same clothes as any other slave, the tattered hemp shirt covered only the basic necessities, just for the sake of covering their bodies.

From shoulders down to their knees, they appeared more like potato sacks. Nonetheless, under them, they were still naked, bare against the world.

Glancing up at the open sky, seeing the skies that threatened to break loose any given moment, the other Lutiel’s unshaven face smirked, exactly at the time as the merchant stopped talking.

“I didn’t expect you to be so young. Have you just turned twenty?” He said, still reminiscing at the dark clouds. Conversing with the young man under the rhythmic beats of armor hitting against sand, his single eye that was left started to look towards the only slave other than him.

‘Should I lie? Dammit.’ Lutiel thought to himself, yet the answer was already coming, much to his surprise.

“You don’t need to know,” a stern voice spread through the sandy arena, swiftly reaching both the light brown-skinned man on his right, as well as the unimpressed demons that were coming towards them.

Scratching his head awkwardly, the leader’s chaotic hair wobbled.

“Listen, I know we’re about to beat each other to death, but can’t we at least be nice about it?”

“We can, but will you keep the face up when I cave it in?” He said while the cusps of his lips lifted themselves uncontrollably, adding to his internal agony of not being able to prevent it.

“Whatever you say. Just know I won’t go easy on you because you’re younger than me,” muttering while letting out a smirk himself, the other Lutiel became restrained by one of the four guards that came there.

“Topfe gader’yr!”

With the same thing happening on the other side, the guards shouted at them before restraining both lest they do anything stupid.

Feeling the cold fingers from the demon’s gauntlets, Lutiel finally realized what actually was happening, the words of the human clearly resounding inside his head.

‘Fight?’

Wasn’t there supposed to be an auction? No, as he recalled, while looking around the arena, he didn’t see any of the demons fighting over who would most likely buy the slave.

Seeing the face of the merchant who stared at him while sitting inside a small, elevated room above the exits, it wasn’t hard to realize what was happening.

‘He must have bought me off of them for this very fight.’

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Watching as the free guard put a key inside the heavy, metal shackles, immediately, as he was seemingly liberated, the demon that had a hold of him moved.

The coarse sand mixed with fine gravel grazed across his cheek while his ribs felt a heavy hit to them. Though his breath halted for a second, it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle.

Already composing himself, his body started getting up when he saw him in the corner of his eyes.

Thrown onto each end of the arena, spacious enough for eight slaves to easily fight and move around if need be, it was a matter of who would regain their balance first.

While the white-haired man’s knee was raising itself off the sand, he witnessed the man he talked with already running at him. Lutiel was the first to regain his balance, the other one, and he was only a few steps away from him.

A fist pounced onto the brought up forearms, raised to protect the body. Drilling into them, Lutiel’s frame cocked back, beginning to drift off into the sand below him.

Unable to reply in a swift enough manner of time, a pain spread around his head, the strands of hair pulled on in bulk.

Looking ahead through the forearms, the man saw his enemy paint a malign smile, right before a hirsute

knee pervaded about the meek defense.

Lutiel’s head shook as two hard forces met, from the back and the front. As he hit the planks that rimmed around the arena, the knee squished in further, threatening to shatter his nose apart.

The screams intensified as the other Lutiel backed away, antagonizing the crowd even further. Leaving the young man with the dripping nose full of warm, crimson liquid, he began to turn around, wavering his arms up and down.

“All that talk for three seconds, huh?” Muttering under his nose, the hairs at the back of his head swooshed somewhat, feeling the wind fortify behind him.

The crowd silenced their hoots and disappointment, witnessing the sudden turnaround of actions.

Twisting his face suddenly, Lutiel’s eyes opened wide, a brisk sensation paralyzing his left cheek. And not long after, the other side also met its opponent.

Skidding across the teeth-riddled sand, sent down powerlessly, he rolled away through the floor before getting onto his knees.

“I was sure you were sleeping already,” said the man, inspecting his jaw with a free hand while locking gazes with the man.

Running through the sand as though the words were but a mere breeze, the roles had become reversed. A punch traveled through the air, right towards the face, or rather, the forearms that protected it.

All of the force dissipated as the blocking muscles convulsed and rippled, the palish, brown man gnashing his teeth. The strength that was displayed right before him shook his body.

Yet, seeing that the enemy slave was basically new to this, he quickly grasped the fist, under the unsuspecting eyes of Lutiel.

His body moved towards the revolutionary, and before he could even respond with the awkward movements of his muscles, something suctioned air out of his lungs.

No, he couldn’t breathe all of a sudden when the rough, tightened palm hit around his throat. Although the sensation disappeared at the same time it came, it had given enough time to the man, who was already back on his feet, jumping with relaxed shoulders.

“Have you actually ever fought before?” With a sneer, he taunted the opponent who just barely finished gathering himself up before raising the arms without any viable technique.

‘This feels so wrong,’ he thought to himself while still looking at the man and his seemingly leisurely approach. Although it appeared as though he had him completely disregarded, Lutiel knew it was the other way around.

He walked with a relaxed, confident face, his fists brought out away from the chin while hovering under it. Unlike the man, whose posture leaked countless opportunities, the knuckles that always faced him made Lutiel feel as though an impenetrable wall stood right before him.

“Come on, I’m waiting,” he said, his fingers inviting him while he never lost his footing, his eyes constantly on the opponent.

Although the demons were shouting something, Lutiel looked forward, his body responding to the taunts successfully.

With just a step, he was already in the range to attack him, not wasting any moments in doing so. However, as his tightened fist followed the path to the other Lutiel’s face, it was only met with his elbow instead.

Unable to even see it, something moved right past him as his focus was on the blocked shot.

For a fracture of a second, the light inside his eyes disappeared, his body threatening to fall over. Yet, regaining consciousness frighteningly fast, despite the spinning world in front of him, he stomped harshly on the sand before quickly stepping back, getting away from the opponent.

The foot that cut through the air missed, but its owner didn’t despair. Cutting off the increasing distance instead, he went in even further, not letting the young man act first.

With his right arm placed higher than the left, it moved rapidly.

Although under disorientation, Lutiel still replied to the attack. Angling his left arm, he blocked the path successfully, moving his right one at the same time. The man’s body was open all of a sudden, or rather, the way to his stomach became disregarded.

The demons watched with wry faces as the light-skinned man foiled the other’s approach. With the right arm already halting its movement against the forearm, the left knuckle engulfed the upper left corner of the stomach, making the white-haired man stop immediately.

His fist just barely grazed the enemy’s cheek when his legs became free of strength. Incapacitated and breathless, along with the slanted horizon, the next thing he saw were the dark skies high above them.

An agonizing pain spread through his stomach, paralyzing any of his movements, not sparing even the lungs. Radiating from his liver, the excruciating feeling didn’t stop, devouring all of his focus when he should have kept looking at the man that began to choke him.

With the tips of his fingers, Lutiel scratched the tightly gripping arms to no avail. The eyes threatened to roll all the way back of his head as the world once again began spinning around.

However, in this state of a tightly pressing grasp around his neck, on the fleeting verge of his mind collapsing, no matter how much time had passed, Lutiel kept staring with a cold glare at the jaw-clenching man sitting on his waist.

The booing and screams of discouragement only added to the man, tightening his grip as the neck threatened to crack under the hulking pressure.

Still, gnashing his teeth even further as he received the blunt, almost dead look, all of a sudden, the other Lutiel blinked a couple of times.

Hearing the hushed begging for air, someone huffing far away from him, the dark clouds in front of him span in circles individually. The screams creeping in around him only added to the hisses and rings his ears played out.

Tasting the scent of iron inside his mouth, unable to feel a few of his teeth, the man slowly raised himself up, only to witness a man struggling, huffing for air desperately.

Sitting with his wobbly head and torso, he failed to stand up correctly. Any time he tried, the legs shook as though a thunder hit them.

‘What was that?’

His eyes shook while recalling the sensation that had been brought together with his slipped consciousness.

Blood covered his fingers as the revolutionary Lutiel touched his face’s left side, going in and out of the oral cavity with fearsome ease.