Chapter 96: Blood and Applause

The sun had completely gone down, yet the field was so well lit there was clearly no need for the sun.

The air pulsed with noise—drums thundering from corners of the arena, laughter echoing beneath gilded archways. Aria stood silently beside Zyren on the high platform, her hands clenched at her sides, the gentle fabric of her red dress sliding against her ribs with every breath. She felt exposed up here, like prey placed on a pedestal.

Zyren sat sprawled on a throne that could only have been carved for a god or a monster. Twisting vines of silver and obsidian curled around its arms and legs, with bloodred rubies glinting from the high backrest like watching eyes. His fingers curled loosely around one of the armrests, rings glinting as he turned slightly to glance at her.

"You’re trembling already, little flame," he said, his voice velvet and mockery rolled into one.

"I’m not," Aria replied, though she was. Her knees were barely holding her upright.

"You’re not very convincing," Zyren murmured, his eyes tracing her throat like a blade. "Tell me, is it the crowd or the scent of blood you fear?"

Aria didn’t answer. She refused to give him the satisfaction. Her gaze turned to the field below, where the first ten competitors were being led out. All men. All humans who desperately wanted to fight for their freedom.

On their bodies were marks that showed them to be slaves not servants. Their bare chests marked with crimson paint and deep scars from previous battles they must have fought. They were divided into two groups—five to each side. She watched as they took their place on the sand.

"These men volunteered," Zyren said idly, leaning toward her. She caught the faintest scent of his smell—spiced wine and something sharper, metallic. "Isn’t it beautiful? This... hunger for glory...for freedom?!"

"It’s madness!" Aria whispered.

He hummed as though amused. "Same thing, some would say."

Below, two names were announced by the booming voice of the herald. Two men stepped forward. One was enormous—built like a boulder, his arms crisscrossed with veins and old battle marks. The other was slightly smaller, but fast by the way he walked—light on his feet, eyes sharp.

Aria’s breath caught as servants stepped into the arena carrying two long, curved swords, presenting them to the fighters with ceremonious bows.

"They’re actually going to—?" she began, her voice faltering.

"Kill each other?" Zyren finished for her. "Yes. Losers die!"

She turned to him sharply. "You mean to say that this is how you decide who dies and who earns their freedom?"

Zyren didn’t look at her. He was watching the fighters instead, his face carved from cool indifference. "No, Aria. They decide their own fate. I simply oversee it!"

Below, the match began with a clash of metal that echoed into the sky. The bigger man swung with brute force, roaring with every blow. The smaller one dodged, dancing like fire on wind, parrying with precision, landing small cuts along the giant’s torso faster than the bigger one could evade. The crowd roared each time blood hit the sand.

Aria flinched at the sound of a blade tearing through flesh. The smaller man had just landed a deep slash to his opponent’s thigh. The larger one stumbled. Cheers erupted from all sides, humans and vampires alike calling out in wild delight.

Her eyes shot toward a group of finely dressed humans, their necks wrapped in jeweled collars, clapping and laughing like they were watching jesters.

"Why are they cheering?" she asked, her voice shaking. "A human is going to die."

"They cheer because they are safe," Zyren said. "They cheer because their lives are not on that sand."

She swallowed the bile rising in her throat. "And you? This excites you?"

Zyren’s gaze finally moved to her. There was a stillness in his expression, a strange coldness that seemed to pass through his eyes like a winter wind. "Having you under me would excite me more!." he said in a tone that took her by surprise even as she physically jerked back.

Her mouth opened and closed, but unable to speak as she shifted her gaze away from him.

The final blow came swift and savage. The larger human was strong but too slow to dodge, took a blade clean through the side of his neck. Blood burst forth in a crimson arc. His body dropped to the sand, twitching, gurgling. The crowd erupted again, louder than before. The victor stood with his arms raised high, blood dripping from his blade.

Aria clutched the railing in front of her to steady herself. Her stomach churned. She looked away, forcing her gaze toward the sky, but Zyren’s voice followed her like a shadow.

"You do realize, don’t you," he said, "that in their place you would have to do the same thing?"

She turned toward him, her mouth trembling. "You know I can’t fight"

"Then beg me!" he said softly, then leaned closer. "Am I not your master? Shouldn’t my thighs be something you should cling to?."

Aria’s breath caught as her eyes instantly hardened "Thats all? You simply want me to beg?" only for a pit to appear in her stomach as she heard him respond.

He smiled. "No! How can that be all? You should watch and learn?"

"Learn what? How to enjoy watching people slaughter each other for amusement?"

His voice lowered, and though he still smiled, his eyes hardened. "To survive, Aria. You think you’re still a girl from the countryside. But the moment you stepped into this court, you became my pet. You can either burn brightly or be extinguished."

"Humans in the castle have died for lesser things. I won’t always be there to protect you!"

’You can set me free?’ she wanted to say but she didn’t dare to

She shook her head, trying to step away from him, but there was nowhere to go. She was trapped beside him on that high platform, just as she was trapped in this kingdom. Her voice broke. "You speak like I have a choice."

"You do," he said. "Every day you choose. Today, you chose that red dress. To stand beside me beside me. And you haven’t tried to run in days."

Her cheeks flamed. "Because running would be suicide."

"Yet you still haven’t tried," he murmured, watching her.

She turned away, unable to bear the weight of his gaze. Below, the dead body was being dragged off the field, the blood leaving a thick trail in the sand. The victor had already returnedto the sidelines with a huge smile on his face, not caring about the wounds he had, his chest heaving but eyes victorious.

More cheers. More screams.

The next pair of fighters was being called up. Aria couldn’t watch again. . She turned to Zyren.

"Why do you need me here?" she asked. "To witness it?"

His voice was a low hum. "I want you to understand it."

"Understand what?"

"That no one is innocent, Aria. When it comes to it, people would do anything to protect themselves."

She flinched at that, at the quiet truth of it. She had fought for her life, struck back, even drawn blood. But this... this was different. This was orchestrated. Ritualistic. Cruel.

"You’re not trying to teach me survival," she said quietly, facing him. "You’re trying to make me like you!"

His smile was slow, almost fond. "Now that... is a dangerous thought. I thought you wanted to kill me?" he asked bit Aria didn’t have an answer as she quietly looked away from him.

The next match began. Aria didn’t look. She stared straight ahead, forcing her eyes to the horizon beyond the arena walls. But the sounds still came—swords clashing, bones breaking, flesh ripping. Her hands shook.

Zyren leaned closer, his lips near her ear. "You wear red so well. I wonder if you know how much blood that color can hide."

She stiffened.

Aria didn’t move. She felt like ice—frozen in place.

"You don’t have to play a role, Aria," he whispered. "But you do have to choose and pick a side."

"An obedient pet or one that keeps snarling at its master!"

She turned her head just enough to meet his gaze. "And when I choose to fight you?" she asked with a hint of curiosity in her tone since they were having such a frank conversation.

A flicker of something passed through his eyes—approval, perhaps. Or anticipation. "Then I’ll be waiting!"