Chapter 442: The Colosseum Once More

For Devils, the taste of a soul is directly related to two factors: the strength and the will of the person. To be exact, the will of a person refers to the strength of the person’s desires and his morals.

To a Devil, there is no better delicacy than a soul that was filled to the brim with desires or one that was of irreproachable character.

This taste for souls is one of the reasons why Devils have such a foul name outside of Hell. Devils have been known to form pacts with mortals through which they lend a portion of their strength to the mortal temporarily. Once the pact has been completed, the Devil may come to reap the soul at his or her pleasure.

A pact like this can be counted as a high level pact, one that caused both parties to be bound by the laws of the world. Until the pact has been completed, the Devil is restrained by the power of the pact. Once the other party has completed the pact however, they will no longer be able to resist the whims of the Devil.

Because the power of the signee stems from the Devil, there is no way for the signee to ever overpower the Devil by himself. However, the pact signee who is somehow able to kill the Devil he signed the pact with would be able to free himself from the pact and avoid being reaped. As for what method should be employed… The most effective method was to have someone else do the dirty work for them. Assuming, of course, the Demon Hunters or the Church were still willing to help someone who had sold his soul to the Devil…

From | A Devil’s Pact |

Before I could go hunting for Nicole in the human realms, I had to remedy this weakness in my body.

According to Ferti’nier’s parting advice, this weakness was probably the side effect of eating all those magical beast cores. Such a condition was something I had never dealt with before, but she did leave another advice behind as well, and that was to eat more souls… perhaps that is the way to remedy my current situation?

Either way, any possible avenue had to be explored, that was if I wanted to return to the human realms anytime soon. It’s all for Nicole… in that case, let’s get to it.

The question then became: where the heck am I going to find a large amount of souls in Shadowhunter City? The Duergars? That probably wasn’t a good idea… after all, I have no quarrel with them, and they are one of the servant slaves of the Dark Elves. While I might have been their holy son, the fact was that even I couldn’t just slaughter a bunch of Duergars without reason. They were valuable labour, and whether it was from a practical or emotional standpoint, I shouldn’t raise my blade against them.

Hmmm… if quantity isn’t going to work, perhaps quality then… There are those Dark Elves and Dryders I saw earlier… actually, scratch that. I don’t want to be scolded by the godmother I just acknowledged… I need a more reliable method.

“Your holiness, has your current illness dampened your spirits? If that’s the case, how about we watch a quick colosseum match to relax?” Seeing as I was silent for a while now, Paliseth first thought was that my mood had soured. Her usual levity was quickly replaced by a solemn sense of concern. “That’s what we usually do to kill time.”

The colosseum again? The last time we went there, I was left speechless, and not in a good way too. All those wasted Dark Elven lives… as a member of the Waifus for Laifu Club, my heart aches… nay, tears at the thought of more bloodshed amongst females!

“Your holiness doesn’t wish to visit the colosseum then?” Paliseth asked, seeing as I hadn’t responded yet. “If not the colosseum… perhaps some sightseeing then?”

“No, let’s go to the colosseum, right now in fact.”

Given that I couldn’t directly slaughter some Duergars, Dark Elves or Dryders, the colosseum might have just been the method I was looking for. As the name suggested, the colosseum was where countless matches took place every day. It wouldn’t surprise me if over a hundred people died in that ring on a daily basis, else it would be a shame to its namesake. Not only that, the colosseum had the chance of showcasing some high level fights, perhaps some Five-stars or maybe even Seven-star experts. Such souls, while not very plentiful, were still more than a match for a bunch of weaker souls.

Under Paliseth’s and Jezsere’s gentle guidance and help, we finally reached the colosseum stands after much effort. This colosseum was one of the most popular spots in the whole of Shadowhunter City. At every point in the day, the stands would be packed with countless Dark Elves screaming at the top of their lungs.

Our seat was situated at the highest location in the colosseum so our arrival did not cause much of a stir. Especially not when there was a particularly fierce match going on right now.

Down below, a male Dwarf dressed in rags was currently fighting a Dark Elven female dressed in your typical assassin’s garb.

Before we arrived, these two had engaged in multiple exploratory clashes. Based on those short clashes, it seemed like neither side was stronger than the other.

The Dwarf fight was your typical Dwarf who prided himself on his beard and had an old uncle’s face paired with a large nose. He wielded a double-handed iron hammer that was constantly flailing about in the air. The head of this hammer was a large rectangle, and its body was a long rod made entirely out of metal. If it was resting on the ground, its height would most likely tower over its wielder… Speaking of which, that fellow down is probably a whole head shorter than me. I have heard that Dwarves tended to be around the 150 cm range.

Because this Dwarf took part in the match as a slave gladiator, he had no armor provided at all. All he could rely on for defense was his gigantic hammer. Without any armor whatsoever, that also meant that he couldn’t afford to trade blows as every hit from his enemy was a bonafide injury.

Assassin were known for their one-hit kills. For an assassin, there was no better target than a warrior who did not have his armor on. Assuming, of course, that this assassin was able to land a hit on said warrior.

Unfortunately, the Dark Elven assassin below seemed to have been injured before this match and was moving oddly. Her waving daggers seemed slower than expected which led to her being hesitant about facing the Dwarf’s swinging hammer. Without a way to approach the Dwarf, she naturally had no way to land a strike either.

In contrast, the Dwarf was still fiercely waving his hammer about. The Dark Elven assassin had tried multiple times to break through this defense but failed. Without any other choice left, she had to duck about while she waited for an opportunity to strike.

Yet the Dwarves were a race known for their hardy constitution, and the Dwarf below was no exception either. Even after ten minutes of wild swinging, he showed barely any signs of tiring at all. In fact, he seemed to be getting faster by the second, forcing that Dark Elven assassin to leap away multiple times in order to avoid a hit.

Well, isn’t he an energetic Dwarf? I’m guessing they have been feeding their slave gladiators well in the colosseum. Also, rather than calling this place the colosseum, how about calling it a speed dating agency instead?

As long as the slave gladiator triumphed over his Dark Elven challenger, he had the option to have a go at her… really, is there even any other form of dating that is faster than this? Perhaps a brothel… but I guess the employees of a brothel relied more on their charms rather than their brawns.

Also, as a testing ground for potential breeding stock, it wouldn’t make much sense to starve the gladiators, else any form of contest would be pointless.

Honestly speaking, up till now, this match hadn’t been the most exciting of matches. Rather than cheering for the match itself, the audience were probably just excited by the bulging muscles of that Dwarf. According to the rules, the winner gets to have his way with the loser, and it was said that big noses tend to come paired with a big weiner… ahem.

Before the Dwarf tired out, the Dark Elven assassin likely wasn’t going to make her move. Such a fight of endurance was, putting it bluntly, boring. I turned to look at a visibly excited Paliseth and asked in a concerned voice, “I remember there were reports of Minotaurs and Harpies causing trouble at the south side. Are you sure it’s alright for you to be here with me now?”

“Your holiness’s matters are more important. Besides, the war on the south side is a small matter to begin with, don’t worry. Paliseth has already sent more reinforcements their way, and Zurnalin has full control of matters over there.” Realising that my mind wasn’t on the match below, she smiled and asked, “Does this match not entertain your holiness?”

“Well, I was never the type to get excited by such hotblooded stuff. Besides, I have another motive for being here.”

To be honest, I was here just for the souls.

“Another motive?” Paliseth merely nodded her head after giving this matter some thought. Without asking what that motive was at all, she called for one of the attendants and whispered something in her ear. With that done, she turned her attention back to the ring.

“Master, if you’re feeling bored… how about telling Jezsere some stories from your past?” Jezsere leaned in at that point, eyes practically shining with curiosity and expectation. “Jezsere still doesn’t know much about master.”

“You really are an adorable one, aren’t you.” I gently flicked her on her nose then under her slightly dissatisfied gaze, began recounting in earnest. “Honestly, there’s really nothing much to say about my past. Before becoming a Devil, I was just an ordinary human who ended up dying to save a young Fallen Angel girl. After dying, that Fallen Angel sent my soul to Hell where I was reborn as a Devil…”

The moment I began telling my tale, Reyage perked up his ears as well. Not only Reyage, even Paliseth and the other Dark Elves present seemed to have changed the focus of their attention to me.