Arenas played a vital role in Commorragh's society. The Wych Cults built them within towering castles and triangular spires with razor-edged sides.
They offered all who came to watch a spectacle of artistically elevated murder and unrestrained slaughter. Every arena was an intricately crafted, multilayered structure, centered around a barbed stage where thousands of slaves and warriors reached the pinnacle of glory.
Arena spectators could watch from ornate thrones or pleasure barges, savoring pain from a thrillingly dangerous distance.
The Death Arena, meanwhile, was the most dangerous place in the entire material universe. This enormous arena held prisons containing every dangerous creature in the cosmos, along with the cruelest and most martial warriors.
Not only that, it hosted the largest gambling operation in the galaxy. People bet everything on the fates of different fighters, with odds high enough to make one rich overnight—or turn one into a slave overnight.
Within this dangerous middle tier, two figures resembling gladiatorial slaves slowly emerged from a bloody hell, accompanied by the noisy sound of an argument.
"You giant idiot! If I hadn't been quick on my feet just now, that thing would've bitten my head off!"
"You brat! What are you scared of? Aren't you fine? If you're not dead, keep walking!"
"Oh, yeah, you giant idiot! Think back to the grinder—if I hadn't disabled the control circuits for you, you'd have been mush by now!"
"Heh... Sounds like your ass is itching. Want me to spank it again?"
"You! You have no honor! No shame!"
"What honor and morality is there to talk about with xenos?"
The shorter, thinner figure fell silent, only turning her head away and muttering sulkily. The giant holding a massive I-beam-like weapon also looked away, but he did not say anything overly harsh.
Khan truly regretted saving