"That's what is happening so far," Erden reported to the Pavilion Master.

Remulus snapped the pen in his hand, black ink dripping from his palm onto his blue robes. The books shook off the shelves, the couches and chairs rattled, hitting their wooden pegs on the smooth floor, and the table crumbled into splinters. Rushed by his bare instinct, Erden stomped his hooves, retreating as fast as possible and tucking himself into the corner, his fur standing on ends and his teeth clattering uncontrollably. He tried to calm himself, but the hostile Ein leaking from the powerful King Exalt left no room for comfort.

"Sorry, Erden. I lost control for a moment." Remulus snapped out of it and reigned in his Ein, rubbing his hand over his scalp. He exclaimed at the black ink on his palm, looking quite comical with the black handprint over his bald head. He twirled his finger. All the splotches of ink vanished from his blue robes, hand, and head, and the books floated back to their shelves. However, the broken table remained, to which Remulus sighed and just sat in his chair.

"I never expected them to enact these horrific practices on our people. I'll have to send out missives to all commanders and have them reevaluate anyone who had reappeared after disappearing. How many of their brainwashed converts have infiltrated our ranks?" Remulus swept the table out of existence and pulled another table out of nowhere. His hands moved fast, writing on paper.

"What about Oscar and the others?" Erden asked. "I worry about him."

"Why?" Remulus asked. "Didn't you say you believe in him?"

While lying down, Erden tapped the floor with a hoof and exhaled a hot breath from his snout. "He will succeed in escaping prison but perhaps not in saving his master. I worry about his mind. He should have stayed safely here until he met his friends, but he rushed out to save his master without a second thought. He's always been like this, unable to stop himself from running headfirst, especially if it was for the people he cared about. I understand his thoughts and emotions. Oscar lost his parents, and that gravely hurt him. He doesn't want to lose the one other person he regards as a father. I fear Oscar will break if Draven is found dead or can't escape."

Remulus smiled and went over to Erden's corner, patting his head. "It's good that you're here for him. I wish Draven had someone like you. I failed to be that person for him. And Oscar is that person Draven needs." The old Exalt sat back down on his chair. "It hasn't been a full day since their imprisonment. I trust they won't give in to the enemy." Remulus shook the papers, and a green flame swallowed them. "I need them to find out everything about the prison."

The old man's words sounded indifferent to their plight, but the tiredness and worry within his low tone made Erden think differently. He trotted to the couch and rested on its soft cushion, watching Remulus restack piles of documents and return to work. Erden closed his eyes, his vision shifting to Oscar's side, wishing his friend the best of luck.

…….

Returning from the crazed corridor, Oscar rested on his bed and stared at the pure white ceiling, the rough linen feeling quite comfortable after the horrifying sight and conditions of the isolated ones. He saw and heard everything Erden experienced in Remulus's room, including the part about his return being withheld from his close friends. He struggled for a bit, clenching his hands under the back of his head, biting his lips to stop himself from screaming curses and ill-will at the Pavilion Master. The reasons for keeping his survival a secret were true and correct, but his heart twisted in agony.

'You alright?' Erden's voice echoed from within.

'Do I look so desperate to you?' Oscar asked.

'Yes.' Demon and Erden answered together.

'I didn't speak up earlier, but you had the time to meet your friends properly. Yet, you got yourself imprisoned.' Erden said.

'Impatient and reckless, all because you wanted to see your master.' Demon scolded.

'Shut up. I won't lose anyone else.' Oscar shut down the conversation and raised himself from bed. Rolan and Louis were exercising, Louis's loud shouts of exertion matched by the vigorous pushups he did, using only one finger while his other hand went over his back. Rolan stood upside down on his long arms, silent as ever, remaining in the handstand as beads of sweat covered his red face.

A single clap resounded through the cell, and everyone turned to the source, Alec, who smiled warmly. "The time is almost here. We couldn't participate ever since Davy lost his mind. Now, with Felix, we can finally fight in the Cage Fights."

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Louis bellowed in laughter, leaping to his feet. "It's about time. Isn't that right, Rolan?"

Rolan nodded and smiled, his lips arcing from one slanted eye to the next. Edclet raised his arms and cheered, then he met Oscar's gaze and looked away, shivering. The others stared in a mix of rejection and helplessness at Edclet's current state. There was nothing they could do for him. Alec waved everyone over to follow him.

Stepping out into the corridor, Oscar saw other inmates come out of their cells, and they glared at Oscar's group menacingly as if they couldn't wait to tear them apart. The air became stifling, and no one talked along the way, huddling into their groups and snarling at others who came close. Oscar hadn't seen a scene like this since the Abyss Prison, where the prisoners roamed in loose groups toward the Ataer Pits. Past a corner, Oscar saw a mess of long benches surrounding a steel cage, a steel stage elevated within. He immediately understood that they would have to fight, but against whom?

"Alec. It's good to see you back here. You're lucky to have gotten a fifth. Kakaka." A man with a tattooed head greeted Alec, a pattern of a black scorpion on his forehead. His voice sounded poisonous. "It's been a while since we've faced off. Kakaka."

"Gareth. You've been living happily for a while. It's time for us to enjoy the luxuries." Alec smiled and extended his hand, but Gareth shook it off and cackled on his way back to his group.

"We're fighting each other?" Oscar asked. Many groups already arrived, piling on the benches. Fred was there too, seemingly barking orders to his fellow cellmates. Would he have to fight Fred?

"The Cage Fights are the only source of entertainment for the guards. They bet and laugh while we fight each other. But it's not without its merits." Alec explained, leading them to sit on a bench. His blue eyes darkened at the sight of the guards roaming the steel cage, a hateful gaze. "The guards draw up the matchups, and the winners get certain benefits."

"Benefits?"

Louis interjected, "Less torture time, better meals, and less time spent on daily assignments. The more we win, the more the rewards rack up."

"Such a system is set up here?" Oscar frowned, realizing the true intent behind having these battles between cells.

"Your suspicions are true." Alec clenched his knees. "It's all to ruin any cohesion and camaraderie between the prisoners. What will you think if you're being beaten up by someone who was once your ally? But what can we do? We're forced to fight; might as well win and lessen our burden."

Oscar fell silent. The whole place reeked. Everything in this prison was designed specifically to ruin their bodies, minds, and relationships—no wonder so many people broke apart into maniacs. Suddenly, the steel cage, hung up by chains, was raised high, allowing entry to the stage.

"Alright! Cell A-4 vs Cell B-2." A prison guard announced, to which roars and cheers of many inmates resounded.

"Oh? We're already up. Then, Louis. Go up first." Alec smiled.

"I've been waiting for this. Six hours of torture is too long." Louis stomped toward the steel stage, crossing his large arms as a wide smile emerged under his mustache. From Cell B-2, another bulky behemoth entered, similarly stomping on the steel stage. The cage descended, thudding heavily on the floor, and entrapped the two on the stage.

"You know the rules. Fight until one of you can no longer fight." A prison guard floated above. He raised his hand and snapped his fingers before shouting, "Begin!"

Louis roared and charged. His opponent mimicked him, and their fists clashed in a thunderous clap, knuckles bashing against knuckles. The gusts of wind kicked off from the power of their clash forced Oscar to squint, looking between his fingers for a better view. Louis and his opponent brawled, the sounds of their bones cracking, resounding clear. Punch after punch, Louis smiled through it all and headbutted his enemy, forcing his foe to reel back.

"He's got it." Alec declared.

Louis rushed in while his opponent was off-balance and tossed him to the steel floor, a gargled grunt of pain spraying blood in the air. Louis raised his foot and stomped on his fallen foe's chest, silencing any cries or bouts of agony. The man rested limply on the floor, his chest slightly caved in. Louis raised his fist and beat his chest like a gorilla, roaring out his victorious shout.

"One victory for Cell A-4. Next!" The guard announced. The steel cage lifted once again, and Louis returned with a wide smile, high-fiving Rolan.

"Gahahaha. It's been a while since we fought. Two more victories, and we'll be set. Who's next?" Louis chortled.

"Next will be Rolan." Alec pointed at Rolan, who nodded and leaped on the steel stage, his opponent already there.

"Who will be after that?" Oscar asked.

"You. We have to see what you can do." Alec stared at him, his eyes saying enough for Oscar to understand no rejection would be tolerated.

"How are you the leader of this cell?" It didn't escape his notice that Alec was the center of the group, receiving respect and obedience from others. They followed his words, and he moved freely without being questioned by them. Oscar was interested and stared back with a smile. "I wonder how strong you are."

"In any case, you will be the one going next." Alec shook his head.

On the stage, Rolan dashed around the steel stage, his speed quite great despite the lack of Ein. He utilized his long arms like whips and got his opponent into a stranglehold, grappling him around. His foe tried every method to get Rolan off, but the short man was slippery, tossing and turning to keep his position. If his foe tried to ram him into the cage, Rolan turned him so his enemy would hit the cage. Louis and Rolan…both of them were quite strong and good veterans in non-Exalt fights. It only piqued Oscar's interest more in Alec. Just how strong was this man?

"Cell A-4 wins again! Next!" The guard shouted as the other cell rushed to get their unconscious member out, and one stayed behind, Oscar's opponent.

"Then, I'll be off." Oscar walked onto the stage and stretched his arms. The steel cage lowered, and he was surrounded by metal bars soaked with the blood of the previous two battles. He grinned and put up a stance. "Come on!"