The Blood Skull Arena was a meat grinder that never distinguished day from night, madly devouring flesh and harvesting lives.
Even on the darkest Night of No Stars, the place remained brightly lit.
Dozens of arenas, large and small, simultaneously staged spectacles of flying flesh and spraying blood.
They let tens of thousands of blood-boiling, wildly exhilarated High-Level Orcs vent their killing intent and gambling fever to their hearts' content.
If some spectator lost everything or failed to get their fill of excitement, they could personally enter the arena and show off their skills.
Either they won back both principal and interest, perhaps even caught the eye of some military noble and received a drop of glorious blood.
Or they were chopped into eight pieces, smashed into meat paste, and turned into Totem Beast dung amid countless boos and jeers.
Such things had played out over and over, countless times, over the past thousand years.
To the point that the air inside and outside the arena was both damp and viscous, as if a light twist could wring blood from it.
When the blood-red dawn tore through the night, this ceaseless meat grinder welcomed another batch of fresh flesh.
Ice Storm led her thirty-man team through the labyrinthine Underground Tunnel and arrived at the palace-like plaza beneath the main arena.
Because this was where many Gladiators and servant soldiers passed on their way to glory or death.
In the local jargon, it was also known as the "Hall of Glory."
Meng Chao narrowed his eyes and surveyed the Hall of Glory, which was as large as three or five football fields.
Once again, he marveled at the Turan ancestors' exquisite architectural craftsmanship.
From the Ace Training Camp where Ice Storm was stationed.
To the Hall of Glory.
They had marched