On the second day of the grand opening, Dominik had given Fran The tenth floor to turn into her domain. He’d helped her create a few frost golems using her magic and his mana crystals. These golems were much bigger, and much simpler, but they would be her aids in combat.

The arena she’d chosen was covered in ice and snow, using mana crystals embedded in the floor and the wall, he helped her keep the spells she cast up perpetually to change the terrain. This favored her as she specialized in frost magic.

Dominik had his avatar nearby, ready to leap in if things went badly, if she was unable to escape, but he doubted it would be a problem. He’d also given her an honor guard of troglodytes on standby, with thick ragged clothing and long spears. They would most likely just collect the bodies however.

What had been on his mind today was the adventurers, specifically those with slaves. Some had planned on buying cheap disposable labor, and meat shields, from the auction that never happened. Others had bothered bringing their own slaves.

Most notably was one man dressed in black, surrounded by several young female slaves. He was lauded as some sort of hero, from what Dominik had heard through the crows in the forest. They said he was one of the chosen heroes summoned from another world.

He’d waited the first day to gather information, letting others be the first to go deeper once he realized how dangerous it was. He used the functions of the collars often to make sure his word was followed, to punish them for any minor mistakes. Dominik also found it strange that his group, clearly equipped for combat, didn’t include a single male slave. This often portrayed certain proclivities, when the prioritization was on recruiting all women.

Dominik had decided to free any slaves he could, any who were brought into the dungeon against their will, but he especially wanted to kill this hero. Everything about him was sickening.

First a few other parties entered, but they fell to the troglodytes, or escaped shortly after facing them. Hardly any contenders for Fran. Soon though, the hero showed up, with his seven slaves.

They performed their functions, one blonde woman cast spells to protect them from the spiders’ bite. Another cast spells to increase the hero’s strength. Soon they were ready and entered the dungeon, with the hero in between his entourage.

The spiders, of course, didn’t attack. It would’ve been a waste, the hero was the only real target, and he was the most heavily protected, with spells and enchanted armor. All dark leather and chainmail. It hung somewhat loose over the man’s frail frame.

Dominik wondered if this man had ever fought with his own strength before. He certainly didn’t look like any warrior Dominik had ever seen.

Dominik had explained the situation to Fran, who would be wearing her mask in the dungeon. He’d told her he wanted to kill the man himself, but he’d like her help to restrain the slaves until after he’d freed them. This would be the first group to reach Fran, and he allowed them to continue down to the cold arena, uninterrupted by the troglodytes or the traps.

Fran stood there in the ice and the snow, with her white hair hidden by a hood, and her black skin covered in a new layer of eldritch carapace Dominik had made blue. He didn’t expect anyone to escape her, but he’d wanted to at least attempt to hide her identity, in case anyone did escape. The skin was strong yet flexible, so it would offer her some protection on her most vital areas. And it would be quick for him to heal along with her, should it be needed.

Dominik stood as himself, wearing the mask of Salvator, holding a mace. He’d chosen not to bother with his combat avatar. He wanted to kill the hero with his own two hands. Or at least, the closest he could get to that.

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When the hero arrived, Dominik wasted no time in speaking to him. “So, you’re the insect calling himself a hero. Did you lick some nobleman’s boots to buy you all of those slaves, or did you work for it yourself?”

The hero froze for a moment, the dungeon wasn’t lining up with the reports. But he couldn’t just run away. And he wouldn’t be made to look like a fool in front of the girls. He quickly regained his composure. “Strong words from a man who serves a dungeon lord. I didn’t choose to come to this world, it was forced on me.”

“I suppose you were forced to own slaves too?” Dominik said. “Liar. You’re the one who has a choice, and you’ve chosen to serve the insects at the capital. I serve no one, I am an extension of the dungeon lord.”

The once cold room was heating up, the mana in the air growing warm around Dominik. Fran was only subconsciously aware of the thick mana in the dungeon most of the time, unless she focused on it. But now, it was hard not to notice. Dominik had told her he’d never learned to use any elemental magic, so she wasn’t sure if he was even aware of this. But that just made it more dangerous.

The hero smirked, seemingly unaware of the fluctuations in the air. “I just can’t trust anyone, so I use slaves, it’s not like they mind.”

Dominik glared death through the mask. “So you wouldn’t mind saving me the trouble of freeing them before I kill you?”

The hero’s smile widened. “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

Dominik turned to Fran. “Try not to kill the slaves, but don’t let them move. I want to take my time killing him.”

“Yes Salvator, I’ll try not to pierce any major organs.” With that, Fran cast her first spells. They stood on the icy stone in a cold room full of snow. The troglodytes had quietly moved to the back of the room, blocking off the entrance. The elementals came to cover Fran.

Just before she let out a wave of ice rupturing out of the ground toward the slaves, Dominik had lept toward the hero with inhuman speed and movements, tackling him to the ground. As the women were covered in ice, and pierced through with a few jagged spears to lock their movements, Dominik threw his mace to the side and began smashing his fist into the other man’s face.

The women were screaming as they struggled to break free and help the hero, but Fran’s magic with her favored element was too advanced for them to break through. Most of them seemed unsuited for combat roles as well, not that they likely had much of a choice.

Dominik held the hero’s throat with his left hand, in a crushing grip, and he slammed his right fist into the man’s face over and over again. At first, the hero tried pulling out some short blades and stabbing at Dominik, but the damage didn’t seem to affect him much. After several blows, the hero gave up and focused on defense, casting some sort of defensive spell.

It seemed different from the average barrier spell. Likely some sort of special innate ability the heroes were told to have. Dominik had already applied as many powerful spells as he could to this avatar, he just used it over and over again to smash down on the shield.

He let go of the man’s throat and began smashing his fists down on him all over in a wild flurry of blows. There was no technique, just power and speed. Dominik’s wounds had already healed. The man had let go of his swords and was covering his face with his arms. Under this, the man’s screams came out, echoing in the room. He was begging his slaves to help him, commanding them.

This only fed Dominik’s anger. The hero was commanding his slaves to help him after they’d been captured and injured. As the ice crushed them and held them in place, even piercing them, they were shocked by the collars. Electricity coursed through them for disobeying the commands given by the hero.

Dominik dispelled his own regeneration spell and focused his magic entirely on breaking through the shield. After another minute and hundreds of blows, the barrier was finally broken. The magic shield began shattering under his blows. He wasn’t just punching through it, he was destroying it.

He smashed his fists into the man’s face harder than before, with no shield to protect the man lying on the ground. Dominik kept punching until he felt the other man’s skull crack, and then he kept going. Only when the front of his skull was entirely destroyed did he grab the man’s head, with his fingers digging into his skull.

After securing a good grip, Dominik began slamming his head into the stone floor. He smashed it into the floor over and over again, until there were only broken bits of bone with the brain smashed all over the cold stone floor.

Unbeknownst to Dominik, the room was heating up even more, the mana in the air around Dominik was almost boiling, the scene became unclear to Fran as the heat grew around him. Until finally, there was nothing more to destroy, except the body covered in enchanted armor, that had done the hero no good. Finally, when there was nothing left of his face, Dominik’s anger had been sated, and he began to rise. His hands and shirt were soaked red in the hero’s blood.

The heat died down, and Dominik approached the now quiet women. “Well, I guess I should get those collars off now.”