Chapter 78 The Next Arena Trial

The morning came heavy.

Kai still felt the ache in his bones, the coil of the serpent, the crush of chains. Patrona kept near him, her hand brushing his arm when they walked, steadying him without words. Revoli said little as she pulled a cloak tight around her shoulders, hiding the curve of her horns, her tail tucked and ears pressed low. She didn’t belong out here, not in Enzo’s streets, but she refused to be left behind.

By the time they reached the arena, the crowd was already restless. The night’s memory was still in the sand, dark stains drying in the morning sun. Enzo had fed the crowd well with their last fights—now he promised more.

The handlers shoved Kai through the gates again. Patrona followed without hesitation. The roar of the crowd hit them like a wave.

Enzo wasn’t satisfied. Not with a serpent, not with demons, not with the endless chained beasts. He wanted more. And he wanted to see them break.

The first gate opened.

A pair of demons dragged into the sand, collars burning against their throats. Their wrists were chained together, forcing them to fight in tandem. Their eyes were red, their bodies lean with muscle, their movements unnatural—trained, broken, forced.

Kai raised his staff. Patrona spun her blades in her hands. They didn’t speak. They didn’t need to.

The demons struck, chains snapping tight, claws slashing. Kai caught one blow high, driving his staff into the ground to hold it. Patrona slipped under the swing, her knives biting into the other’s arm. The chain rattled, jerked, pulled her back. Kai grabbed it, heaved, and the pair stumbled forward, straight into Patrona’s strike.

The crowd roared.

Another gate.

This time, a beastfolk warrior. A wolf, tall and scarred, a great axe in his hands. His collar gleamed, the light in his eyes hollow. He swung hard—too hard, the kind of strength that should have belonged to a man fighting for his freedom, not shackled like a dog.

Patrona’s breath caught. “He’s one of them.”

Kai’s grip tightened on the staff. He didn’t want to kill him.

They fought hard anyway. The wolf’s strikes rattled bone, each swing aimed to split them in half. Kai blocked, staff shaking with each impact. Patrona darted to the side, cutting shallow strikes that wouldn’t kill, only weaken.

Finally, Kai locked the staff against the axe, twisted, and drove his knee into the wolf’s stomach. The man fell, gasping, still alive. The healers rushed in.

The crowd booed.

Enzo leaned forward from his seat, lips curled in mock amusement. He wanted blood, not mercy.

The handlers didn’t pause. Another gate, another body thrown at them.

Patrona’s lungs burned. Her arms ached. But she didn’t step back. She matched Kai, every move, every strike. They trusted each other more with every fight. If he swung high, she struck low. If he faltered, she filled the gap. They moved like two parts of one blade.

From the stands, Revoli gripped the edge of her cloak. She wanted to scream his name, to tell him she was there, but her voice stuck in her throat. Her eyes burned, her fists trembling in her lap. She couldn’t fight. She couldn’t help. She could only watch.

Every clash, every cut, she leaned forward, as if she could will her strength into him. She whispered his name under her breath. “Kai…”

But her voice was lost in the storm of the crowd.

Below, in the sand, Kai drove his staff into the chest of a scaled demon, blood spraying wide. Patrona’s blade cut across its throat, and the body fell.

The handlers shouted for more.

The crowd demanded it.

And Enzo smiled.

The handlers didn’t stop. Each gate slammed open with another nightmare waiting to test them.

A hulking ogre with brands burned into its chest.
A horned beast whose roar rattled stone loose from the stands.
A pair of chained sisters, beastfolk with matching collars, forced to fight like animals.

Kai and Patrona endured. They didn’t have the strength for speeches, but their movements spoke louder. She cut where he couldn’t, he blocked where she faltered. Their rhythm sharpened with every exchange.

Revoli’s knuckles turned white under the edge of her cloak. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. Every strike that landed on Kai’s body cut through her too. Every time he staggered and caught himself, her breath broke. She wanted to scream for him to stop—but she knew he wouldn’t.

Above it all, Enzo sat back, smiling as if it were already his victory. But his eyes darted once, just once, toward the far end of the stands.

There, cloaked and veiled, sat a figure no one dared look at too long. The crowd never cheered in that direction. They whispered instead. Malrissa. Demonlord.

Her presence was a weight that pressed on the arena. The air seemed thicker where she sat. Shadows clung longer, the torches burned lower. She didn’t move, didn’t speak, but her influence seeped into the ring.

The next beast was proof.

The gates groaned, chains dragging, and what came through wasn’t like the others. A demonspawn—four-legged, wings shredded, eyes burning with void light. Its hide pulsed as if alive, glowing faintly with marks not natural to this world. Patrona stiffened when she saw it.

“That’s not Enzo’s doing,” she whispered.

Kai steadied his staff. “Then whose?”

The answer came without words. Malrissa lifted one hand, a finger twitching. The spawn shrieked and charged.

The fight was unlike the others. The beast moved with unnatural speed, striking from angles that shouldn’t have been possible. Kai blocked the first hit, but the shock numbed his arms. Patrona’s blade barely pierced its hide, and when it did, black smoke hissed from the wound, trying to choke her lungs.

Revoli stood in the crowd, frozen. Her heart hammered in her chest. She wanted to run to him, to them, but she stayed rooted. Her hood shadowed her face, her cloak hiding her trembling. She whispered again, “Kai…”

The spawn pressed them harder. Each strike drove Kai and Patrona back until their heels scraped the blood-soaked wall. The crowd screamed for death. Enzo’s smile widened.

But Kai planted his staff. His arms shook, his lungs burned, but he forced the beast back one step. Patrona darted in low, driving both blades into its legs. The spawn screeched, spun, and slammed her into the sand.

Kai roared, bringing the staff down on its skull. Once. Twice. Three times. The wood cracked, splinters flying. The beast staggered, still alive.

Patrona rolled to her knees, coughing blood. She dragged herself up, knives trembling in her hands. “Together,” she rasped.

Kai nodded once.

They struck as one—Patrona cutting deep into its throat, Kai smashing the staff down to snap its spine. The spawn collapsed, twitching, smoke curling from its wounds.

The crowd’s cheer was different this time. Louder, yes, but edged with unease. They had seen something not of the arena, not of Enzo’s collection. Something darker.

Kai stood swaying, blood dripping from his arms. Patrona leaned against him, her face pale but her eyes burning.

In the stands, Malrissa lowered her hand. Her lips curled faintly, a smile without warmth. She rose and turned, shadows gathering close around her as she left.

Enzo’s smile faltered for the first time.

Kai’s gaze followed her retreat, though he didn’t know why. He only felt a cold pull in his chest, like a tether to something vast and terrible.

Patrona squeezed his arm. “Stay with me.”

He looked down at her, steadying, grounding. He nodded.

The handlers rushed in, dragging the body away, preparing the next gate. The crowd screamed for more, always more.

But in the back of his mind, Kai knew—this wasn’t just Enzo’s game anymore. The Demonlord was watching.

And every fight was feeding her.