“Hurry!!” Alexander heard shouting coming from outside his room. “There’s trouble on the lower levels!”
“What the hell is going on!?” Alexander recognized the voice of one of his guards, Bill.
“A bunch of prisoners were released!” Alexander heard a different voice as well as footsteps of people running past his room. A chaotic, unorganized situation.
“Where’s the captain!?”
“Wasn’t Grizwald at the gatehouse?”
“They say the Demon Fucker turned him into her slave!”
“Eh?” Alexander raised his head.
“There’s milk everywhere!”
“M-milk?”
“Everyone just drinks it and roll around in it while the prisoners beat them up!”“No way!”
“I saw it with my own eyes! Charles, Phil, Sara: all of them on their knees with their asses up!”
Alexander got up from the side of his bed and walked to the door. The room Alexander was in was pretty much just a prison cell that was made more comfortable with basic necessities like a bed to sleep in, a table to eat at, and a bucket to piss in. But even that was already more than anyone else taken to the Pits could dream of.
Alexander’s treatment was only marginally better than all the others that were rounded up in the Forge of Champions. Questioning that bordered on interrogation, confiscation of all weapons, guarded at all times, no trial, no verdict, no visitation, and no information on when this would be over. Effectively a prisoner until Captain Flavna decided otherwise.
However, as long as he cooperated and helped sell whatever story Flavna deemed necessary, at least he did not have to spend any time in the shit and piss with the others. Flavna even promised him all the rewards befitting a Champion after the entire situation with the demon appearance had been resolved. When that would be, however, she did not bother to say.
But this sudden development changed things.
Demon Fucker, Alexander thought, remembering full well who the Purple Capes were talking about. What a preposterous name they gave her!
Indeed, in Alexander’s mind “The Cock Gifter” that the eunuchs named the big-tit dick-slinger was much more appropriate.
Alexander lightly pushed forward the reinforced door of his “room” but it did not budge. One time a rookie actually did not bother to lock it because he seriously treated Alexander as the newest Champion and not just another prisoner. A week in the pits was supposed to fix his thinking capabilities. Alexander paused at the door and wondered if that rookie was now too slurping the milk off the floor. But that thought for the rookie lasted only for a second before Alexander kicked the door off its hinges and sent it flying straight into the opposite wall.
“GHUEKH!” a pained grunt from behind the door that just slammed into the stone wall informed Alexander that he crushed one of his guards.
“E-e-eh!?” Bill stood just a couple of feet to the side—barely out of range of the door—shitting his pants as he looked up at the man that could crush him like a bug.
Alexander grabbed Bill by the neck and effortlessly lifted the terrified lad off his feet until their eyes locked. Alexander then pulled Bill closer, right to his face, and asked plainly, “Felicia. Where is she?”
“W-who? I-hhhhurk—” Bill choked when Alexander squeezed his neck harder for not answering the question.
“Felicia Thundershnauf,” Alexander said. “I won’t ask again; I’ll just grab one of your buddies next.”
“Hey! What are you doing!?” a guard shouted from down the corridor.
Alexander and Bill both turned their heads and saw four guards further down the corridor.
“I’ll go get help!” one of the guards said and ran off.
“Wh-what? Pete! Come back you scum!” one of the three remaining guards shouted, furious at the blatant coward.
“Whatever! There’s three of us!” the other guard said and drew his sword.
“Yeah!” the third guard drew his sword and ran at Alexander, followed by his two buddies close behind. “Let Bill go or-GHRKEHK—”
Alexander punched the guard straight in the face with his free arm and sent him flying back, past the two guards. The guards froze in shock and looked back at their punched buddy. He laid motionless on the floor, his face flattened, bloody, unrecognizable.
“UAAAA!!!!” both guards ran away as fast as they could.
Alexander turned his attention to Bill.
“Sixth level! Sixth level! Sixth level!” Bill repeated over and over, pissing himself. “I don’t know which pit exactly! There are only four there!”
“The quickest way there?” Alexander asked.
“That way,” Bill pointed in the direction where his would-be rescuers ran. “Turn right and then straight, until you get to the stairs. You can go down all the way to the third level. P-please don’t kill meeeeEH!!”
Alexander threw Bill aside, sending him flying a dozen yards in the opposite direction from where he went.
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