Chapter 388. Game Arena
Tyler and the others sat in the spectator seats of the Game Arena, perched high on the third floor of the massive circus tent. Unlike the chaotic first floor or the illusion-filled second, this level was stark, structured—yet equally unsettling. The entire floor had been converted into an arena, with magical spotlights shifting colors over a massive central stage encased in retractable steel panels.
Rows of seats formed a circular balcony around the central stage, where masked immortal practitioners and a few rugged-looking pirates filtered in, their cloaks fluttering and weapons hidden—or barely hidden—beneath layers of enchanted fabrics. Though there weren’t many spectators yet, it was clear this place usually hosted packed crowds. The event had been announced hastily, just to amuse the Clown’s new guests.
That alone was a chilling thought.
The Clown appeared out of nowhere, materializing in a puff of confetti and maniacal laughter, before plopping down in a seat cushioned with bright red velvet. His painted grin seemed wider than usual.
Tyler gave him a nod and leaned back. This wasn’t the kind of entertainment he was used to, but it was better to observe silently than stand out.
The Ring Master, clad in black-and-gold robes with eyes like dying embers, stepped onto the stage. His voice echoed clearly through the magically amplified arena.
"Welcome, one and all, to today’s special show!" he announced, whipping the air. The familiar blue lion cub that followed him leaped onto the platform, growing into a massive beast with every step. "Since this was organized quickly, we’ll only be holding three games today."
The lion let out a thunderous growl, pacing the arena as the crowd watched, half in awe and half in fear. It is using skill which affects Spiritual Consciousness.
"As always, the participants are... the slaves," the Ring Master continued with a smile too wide to be kind. "And remember, should they win even one of the games, their freedom shall be granted."
He cracked his whip again. "Let the games begin!"
The steel panels around the stage hissed and began retracting, folding themselves with unnatural grace. As they vanished into the floor, they revealed several slave contestants—men and women of various races, from humans to beastkin to elves—standing in tense anticipation.