As shit and other unsavory liquids ran down Michael’s naked dad bod, an uneasy silence hung in the pit, momentarily outweighing even the stench of the pit. Felicia sat on her eunuch’s shoulder like a parrot, looking Alexander dead in the eyes, trying to gauge his intent. The only sound that remained, low but annoyingly consistent, was the sound of Zack continuing his attempts to awaken Bob by shaking him out of his forcibly induced unconsciousness with added intermittent slaps.

“Oh, forget it!” Felicia finally broke the silence. “His skull probably gave in sometime during the last five or so times Michael bashed his head into the stones.”

“N-no, he’s still b-breathing, I checked,” Zack answered jitterily, like a beaten dog.

“I’m so relieved,” Felicia rolled her eyes. “Give him a quick beating and if he still doesn’t wake up, come back here.”

“Y-yes!” Zack said, stood up and lightly kicked Bob in the side, just below the ribs.

“Harder, you dimwit!” Felicia shouted.

“Is this how you always spend your free time?” Alexander asked.

“Punishing traitors?” Felicia clarified. “I hadn’t experienced something this outrageous in years.”

“Abusing those you have power over,” Alexander said.

“Forgive me for not being in my best mood after all I went through only to end up knee-deep in shit! Also, wait! I don’t need a lecture from mister ‘Imma smash my opponent’s head with my bare hands’!”

“They were dead the moment they agreed to participate in those Games,” Alexander said. “And I needed to become the Champion.”

“Well, you are one, congratulations!” Felicia congratulated Alexander sarcastically.

“The title was supposed to come with certain rewards that Flavna was evasive about,” Alexander said.

“Oh, a chance for an audience a member of the royal family? That would require an additional trial. For some reason nobody ever requested to meet the King. Usually it’s one of his daughter’s, sometimes the Queen—”

“How is it that only one Champion has ever returned from that audience?” Alexander asked.

“… Isn’t it obvious? Life in the Royal Palace is far more preferable to staying in the city. Surrounded by hot, horny princesses; eating the finest delicacies available in the city; drinking the finest wine and beer, not the piss they serve you here.”

“And how many pass that ‘additional trial’?”

“You really wanted to fuck a princess that badly?” Felicia snorted. “Which one? Flavna has one locked up somewhere in this place. Or do you have a taste for something more… Motherly?”

“Has anyone passed the trial except for Proudcock?”

“… What are you getting at?”

“That you either fed the previous Champions to your pet demon, or they were killed in the palace.”

“W-what?” the prisoners behind Alexander gasped in shock and/or muttered between themselves.

Felicia raised her white eyebrow and asked, “Seriously? Did that stupid bitch captain get your cooperation by beating your head against the wall like Bob’s?”

“Where are the previous Champions,” Alexander asked.

“Some killed in the trials, some living the high life with the remaining nobles and royalty,” Felicia answered, her pleasant tone evaporating with each sentence.

“What were the trials?” Alexander asked.

“Not like it matters now,” Felicia sighed. “I don’t expect the Forge of Champions to reopen for a long time, if ever. I suppose I’ll have to help the Guild design some other entertainment for our dear citizens. AFTER the whore-bitch-captain frees me!”

“And what will become of your pet demon?” Alexander asked.

“You know, you’re getting increasingly annoying,” Felicia poked Alexander’s overtrained, giant pec. “If you want to get points with your new favorite captain for protecting me from the cockroach it would be easier to do so from outside the cell.”

“And who will protect you from the captain after she finds out that you’re the one who summoned the demons?” Alexander asked.

“I’ve about had it with these baseless accusations!” Felicia raised her voice and looked down at her fire mage. “Michael, teach this insolent—”

*CRACK*

Alexander punched Michael in the chest so hard that everyone in the pit heard the eunuch’s ribs crack.

“GhUA-Aa-ack—” Michael gasped like a fish out of water and fell backward from the sheer power of one punch.

“Wuah~!” Felicia swung her arms, trying to balance on the falling man’s shoulder and not fall into the cesspool below. “The hell are you—KHGHhh!?”

Alexander prevented Felicia’s fall by grabbing the pint-sized furball by the neck and squeezing tight.

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