As I was brought out onto the stage, my eyebrows began to furrow as I saw more people lined up. Then, they widened in shock.

“Deek!” Carmine cried out before she could help herself.

I shook my head and gave her a look. Even without Slave Communication, she seemed to catch my meaning. She immediately glanced up at the observation box where Lord Reign would be. He was sitting there, but his attention wasn’t on the arena. Furthermore, so many people were shouting, that no one noticed her slip. I was still confused though. Why was Carmine there? It wasn’t just Carmine. There were six others on the stage. This included Bernard and a few others that looked like gladiators.

Don’t tell me that he was going to make me fight the other gladiators? Knowing Lord Reign, or rather I should say the Demon Lord who controlled Lord Reign, this would exactly be in his motif. Glancing up at the Lord, I wondered just how much free will did he have? Was he just a pawn, or was he controlled by the Demon Lord to the extent that every action was the Demon Lords, kind of like how Octius had once used my body?

I heard a click and looked down with surprise to see the guard undoing my restraints. I didn’t feel any particular excitement though. This arena housed many violent and powerful prisoners. If it was easy to escape, then anyone could get out of it. The only exit was sealed with bars and protected by four Knights.

“Don’t try anything funny.” The guard also nodded toward a line of archers with crossbows aimed down in our direction.

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Since the matches were optional during this tournament, and not between prisoners, those archers usually weren’t there. It was clear that their sudden presence was making the gladiators on stage feel a bit discontent. However, no one provided them an explanation.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Lord Reign’s voice echoed out over the crowd, causing it to finally settle into a bubbly quiet. “Welcome to the finals of the Alerith Tournament!”

There was a bubbling of excitement and cheering. Meanwhile, I was poked in the back and encouraged to move up onto the stage. With an eye on the archers, I reckoned there was no gain in being difficult. I walked up onto the stage, taking the seventh place on the stage, opposite Carmine. She was still shooting me looks out of the corner of her eyes, but she didn’t look any less curious than the other six contestants. Bernard, in particular, was watching me with a distinct frown.

“The finals always take the form of an endurance run. Three days of nonstop battle until a winner is finally produced. However, this year, I’ve decided to change things up a bit.”

His words caused the contestants, as well as their representatives and owners on the stands, to looks around suspiciously, although this only seemed to excite the crowd even more.

“There will be seven contestants in all, the six conquering gladiators…” Lord Reign then smiled at me. “And a traitorous lord.”

“A traitor?”

“Is that who he is?”

“They should just kill him then.”

“Please… my city, remember, all men deserve a chance. Even a traitor like him should have a chance to return. Am I not magnanimous?”

“Cut the crap, what are you doing?” Bernard shouted, no longer holding back.

Some people gasped, some laughed, and some shot Bernard vicious looks, depending on their feelings about Lord Reign. The man himself seemed completely unaffected.

“The finals… are a match where you put your life on the line!”