The news of the arena having a new spectacle reached all the distant towns, including those that were not under the rule of the Kingdom of Shahara. Just like in the town of Elridge, the people celebrated and got excited to be given a chance to watch the demons kill each other.

Not only that, they could also win wealth and fame by simply betting or entering their own demons that they had caught.

For them, it was easy money, especially since the demons were now weak and easy to find, given that some of them were wandering aimlessly. You could even compare it to hunting a boar in the wilderness or capturing a bird in the trees. That's how easy it was, especially since most of the people here used or cultivated magic.

It had only been one month since King Ab-Adal announced the news, and the masses had already gone into turmoil. The construction of the grand arena seemed to be going well, needing only two to three weeks before it would be fully operational and open to the public. Some people started to migrate to the Kingdom or the nearby town, trying to buy tickets as early as possible, knowing that the moment the tickets were released, they would be immediately sold out by the crowd.

The rich and the nobles, of course, didn't need to compete for it. They could get their whole family a ticket simply by using their connections and standing. They could even enter their trained demon slaves, gaining an advantage over the others. Although it wasn't fair, there really weren't any rules that forbade them from doing so. It wasn't their fault that they were rich; it wasn't their fault that they had power that could do almost anything. They just used what was in them; they weren't at fault for living in a world where power was everything.

***

In a splendidly looking dining hall with high ceilings and ornate chandeliers,

A good-looking middle-aged man with a mustache sat at a lavishly set long dining table. The table was adorned with fine linens, polished silverware, and goblets, reflecting the warm glow of candlelight that flickered across the room.

He was Count William Roswell, Head of The Roswell Family, part of the Houses of Nobles. He was dressed in a robe of deep velvet, cinched with a golden belt. Embroidered accents on his robe depicted intricate motifs of his family's heraldry, a testament to his noble lineage.

Before him, a sumptuous feast was displayed. A roasted pheasant, perfectly golden and seasoned, bowls of vibrant vegetables, fragrant herbs, and crusty bread. Silver platters held an assortment of cheeses, fruits, and candied delicacies, each carefully selected to tantalize the senses.

"Those demons finally have worth," Count William said, with one hand holding a jeweled goblet. He sipped a fine vintage wine, savoring its flavor as it danced upon his palate.

"I think I will need to travel to Shahara..." he added as he leaned back in his intricately carved chair, radiating a sense of elegance and leisure.

As he enjoyed the taste of the wine, his gaze was momentarily drawn to a little girl sitting at the end of the table.

She was eating with practiced grace, lifting the silver utensil, delicately spearing a tender piece of roasted meat. Her amber eyes reflected no emotions as she savored the rich and textured tastes of each morsel. With her fair, smooth white skin and glossy hair, accompanied by a simple white dress, she looked like a living doll.

"Are you not enjoying the food, Lylie?" Count William asked, noticing the indifferent look on his daughter's face. Although he knew that she always acted like that, he still asked to show his concern and love for his only daughter.

Lylie stopped eating when she heard her father and looked at him for a second before shaking her head. Then she continued to eat as if nothing had happened.

Seeing her daughter's response, Count William could only sigh. He understood why his daughter always gave him the cold shoulder, to the point that even during meals, she avoided him, sitting at the opposite end of the long table. He preferred not to talk about what had happened, as it left a bitter taste in his mouth, and it also involved his family and their reputation.

In the world of nobles, nothing was more important than reputation. If you had a good reputation, you could have almost anything you wished for. Connections? Wealth? Fame? All of it came if you had a good reputation. That's why, no matter what happened or what you did, you needed to consider if it would affect your family's reputation or not, especially when you were part of the strongest family out there.

"Do you want to join me on a trip to Shahara, my dear?" Count William immediately changed the topic. He looked at his daughter with a hint of anticipation in his eyes.

Lylie, seemingly unaffected by her father's words, continued to eat, but if one observed her closely, they could notice that her indifferent amber eyes brightened up a bit. The pace of her eating also quickened, leaving some food on her cheeks, making her look even cuter.

As Count William noticed this, his lips couldn't help but curl up. As her father, he knew his daughter's likes and dislikes. Even though she didn't show it, Lylie was always a curious girl. She wanted to discover and see new things, and given that the news of the arena had spread widely, with people talking about it, including their servants, it definitely reached her ears, piquing her interest.

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After finishing her plate, Lylie wiped her lips with a clean white cloth. Without even looking at her father, she nodded her head.

"Okay, that's settled then," Count William said, putting his jeweled goblet on the table. Without wasting a single second, he ordered his valet, who was standing beside him,

"Richard, book tickets for us. There are two weeks before the arena opens. We'll depart three days prior. Prepare everything that we need. I don't want anything to ruin the trip with my daughter."

"As you command, My Lord," the tall, brown-skinned valet Richard replied almost immediately. "I will do it now. Then, if you'll excuse me."

Richard brought his hand to his chest and bowed before turning his back to them. Just as he was about to take a step, he heard Count William's soft voice,

"Have you finished that task yet?" Count William whispered, audible only to the two of them.

"Not yet, My Lord," Richard replied. "But I promise there will be no problem before we depart."

"Good. Do everything to make him sign the contract," Count William said. "Force him or rely on cowardly tricks. I don't care as long as you make him sign it."

"Yes, My Lord."

"Then go and make sure to keep it hidden. I don't want any of our enemies to know about it yet," Count William said, his tone serious. He picked up his goblet again and brought it to his lips.

Seeing that the Count had nothing else to say, Richard left. He walked in a steady yet fast manner. He knew he couldn't waste any more time, or else he would face the Earl's wrath.

After Richard left, Count William turned his attention back to his daughter, who was occupied with drinking orange juice. With one hand holding the goblet, he smiled and said in a sweet manner,

"Are you excited, my dear?"

***

A silver crescent moon hung above the night sky, while countless stars glimmered and shimmered, forming magnificent constellations. Their light bathed the land below, illuminating a grand mansion that stood proudly.

The mansion occupied a vast space of at least five thousand square feet, surrounded by a large green garden and trees. A rock-paved road led in various directions.

In the mansion's basement, a tall shadow could be seen walking around. The sound of his steps echoed, as the light from the lamp he held danced.

Suddenly, the tall shadow stopped in front of a large cage formed by iron bars.

-Clang!

The sound of chains rattling resonated throughout the place. Inside the cage, a demon with long white hair and crimson eyes was shackled. His neck, wrists, and feet were bound by dark metal chains.

The demon's body was covered in blood, with wounds inflicted by sharp objects marring his skin. His clothes were torn, and his face swollen with red and purple bruises.

With great difficulty, he lifted his head and stared at the tall figure before him with his puffed eyes—a brown-skinned man wearing a black suit.

"Don't waste your time, Richard," the demon muttered weakly. "Even if you cut off my horn, I will not sign that stupid piece of paper."

"You still have the energy to talk, huh?" Richard said, looking down at the pitiful demon.

"Then, let me share some good news," he continued. "Two days ago, we finally found a trace of your family, especially the location of your beloved wi-"

"Don't you dare do anything to my family!" the demon shouted in fury, causing the chains binding him to rattle and restrain his movements. Then, he felt a strong force strike his head, making it dizzy and blurring his vision.

"My Lord is the only one who can interrupt me when I'm talking," Richard said as he kicked the demon's temple, his voice carrying a hint of annoyance.

"We found your wife. Actually, her grave. She seemed to have been killed by your own kin. If you don't believe me, here's the proof," Richard muttered, throwing a square card in front of the demon.

Upon hearing this, the demon felt his world crumble. His heart pounded, threatening to burst out of his chest. His lips trembling as he gazed at the card, which displayed a picture of a grave with a stone bearing an epitaph, depicting his wife's full name.

"No, no, it's not real. You made it up. It's not real!" the demon denied, his body shaking uncontrollably.

He knew deep down that what he was seeing was real, especially with the small message carved on the stone. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to believe it. His wife was dead? What had happened to their daughter, their son? Although there was a chance that it was all fabricated to coerce him into signing the contract, he knew it was unlikely. Below the epitaph was a word that only he, his family, and trusted subordinates knew. It was impossible for anyone else to know it, and it was even more unlikely that one of his subordinates would betray him, as the message belonged to one of them.

"Hehe, I like the look on your face," Richard said, observing the demon's expression. A wide grin appeared on his face as he retrieved a piece of paper from the pocket of his black suit.

"Here, sign this contract, or else the next news you receive will be the corpses of your son and daughter."

Snapped out of his daze by Richard's blackmailing words, the demon gritted his teeth, attempting to free himself from the chains and shackles binding him, yearning to kill this human.

However, his struggles amounted to nothing. He could only bite his tongue and spit a mouthful of blood onto the paper. Although he didn't believe in the words of humans, he didn't want to risk the lives of his children by being stubborn. Yes, he was a demon, but he was also a father. For the sake of his children, he would do anything, even if it meant sacrificing himself.

As the contract glowed brightly, a pleased expression formed on Richard's face. He nodded his head and placed the contract back into the pocket of his black suit.

Richard had wasted a significant amount of time trying to make this demon sign the contract, but it was worth it. After all, this demon was a high-ranking one, a former head of his clan. It should be noted that the stronger the demon, the harder it is for the contract to be effective, especially when it was forced. Richard had wasted many high-ranking contracts and spent a considerable amount of money, but they all failed. It was only now that he had discovered the demon's weakness—his family. True to his expectations, he had succeeded, and the demon had even signed the contract voluntarily.

'A demon who cares for his family, huh? Don't make me laugh. I know you'll soon beg for your life to the point where you'll stop caring and sacrifice your family's lives. After all, you're a demon,' Richard muttered under his breath.

Then he placed his right hand over his chest and bowed, saying, "May we have a pleasurable time working together. I'm sure you will enjoy serving My Lord."

With that, he turned his back and left, mumbling words of goodbye that echoed through the basement, accompanied by the rattling chains.

"See you in a week's time, Jin Ascoff."