The Slaughter Pit had always been a place of blood and spectacle. Built like a Colosseum, its circular design ensured every seat had a perfect view of the violence below.
Its name was not a mere exaggeration—it had been one of Donovan's most treasured pastimes to throw holy warriors into brutal duels, forcing them to spill each other's blood for his amusement.
Sometimes, he would unleash his newest "pets"—twisted creations of his sadistic mind—to test their might against those same warriors.
And now, it was about to host something far more personal—the Game of Honor.
Claude sat comfortably in the VVIP section, wine in hand. On his right, Llyold looked as composed as ever.
On his left, William sat straight-backed, observing the combatants below with quiet focus.
And sprawled across Claude's lap—because, of course, she insisted—was Lilac.
