Demonic Devourer's Development

Chapter 218 - The Champion Of The Arena

Eventually I grew bored with the lacklustre attempts at martial prowess the combatants in the arena showed, and left to train on my own—a simple grind to raise my stats, one hundredth of a point at a time. That was always more useful to do than simply sit and watch others fight. That forced the Master of Sin to descend to the ground, but he still held an elevated seat.

I left a mental projection with him to watch some fights, but paid most of my attention to the ways to strain my body to its farthest limits in the shortest amount of time. Even in my head, I solved mathematical problems that Pest created on my command to train my intelligence.

Meanwhile, the tournament continued. It wasn't over in a day, and more and more demons came to join the fighting, prolonging it even further. For me, these were quiet days, but for Dis, they were the noisiest in its history thanks to the overflow from visitors who climbed up and down the Abyss, defying gravity for a chance of a reward and the promise of being fed and watered.

Despite my original scepticism with the comers, there were some worthy demons among them, too. Ferocious, stubborn and cunning, they only lacked discipline, but that I could beat into them. I began to think about this demon army idea with more positivity again, thinking up ways I could send them up in the mortal realm. Pest's magical research, the tome I had with me at almost all times, and the EXP I fed him over my stay in Hell, gave him the spell to teleport other people to the mortal realm and Heaven, just like I promised to my followers, so it wasn't a problem.

Finally, after good two weeks of fighting, the trickle of new warriors ran dry. The Master of Sin held the last matches to decide on who was the most elite of the elite, the champion of the arena, and for this, I even went back to my spectator place in the flesh.

The most possible pretender for the title—I wondered if the System would've recognised it as such—currently was a female demon Wendigo. The ever-present crowd of spectators chanted her name as she ripped the throat out of her opponent and then threw his body to the pile of those she just recently defeated while his materialising soul ran away.

She killed plenty. I considered it to be a weeding out of those that were so weak or so stupid that they couldn't even retreat when they understood they would lose. The arena matches were only until surrender, not until death—the gladiators would be my future army, and I needed them strong.

Wendigo roared over the thunderous cheers of the crowd. Blood covered her from head to toe. For a demon, she was uncommonly hot, even with her coarse grey skin and inhuman yellow eyes. She still held some femininity in her features—a pair of breasts, covered only by a tooth necklace, wide hips, full lips that hid a row of shark-sharp teeth.

I wondered if she had anything left that I could bang, and I sensed the Master of Sin—hell, all the demons who still had working equipment—having the same thoughts. They also had too much fear of her to try anything, though. There were plenty of rumours about how Wendigo ripped the demons who did—and all these wimps were now remembering them, too.

Not the Master of Sin, though.

"We finally have our champion, lord, and she's so charming… And expecting one of us to descend and congratulate her. Do you wish to have that pleasure, lord Devourer?"

I waved him off. "Nah, you go. Don't let her add your teeth to your necklace."

Nothing would happen here and now, anyway. Plus, no matter the ever-present libido, ever since returning to Hell, I was focused on my revenge much more than on my comforts. It was akin to returning to the past, where all I had was survival.

"Thank you, lord." The Master of Sin winked at me and gracefully jumped down from his floating seat. It wasn't a long fall today—just three meters—and the demons who gathered beneath it barely had time to scramble off his way.

He threw aside those who were too slow as he approached the arena, but there were very few of these. Wendigo waited for him with a hip cocked and an unhappy frown on her face. The source of it was clear from a single glance at me without even reading her thoughts—she wanted me to congratulate her. She didn't take the Master of Sin for much—as a comer from Limbo, she thought demons of other circles to be weaklings and pussies, except for me.

"Congratulations to the champion of the arena, the fearsome and beautiful Wendigo!" the Master of Sin announced to the crowd as he stepped into the circle. He smiled pleasantly at the demoness. "You have defeated everyone who opposed you and deserved the title of the strongest demon who came to serve our lord Devourer. This deed won't be forgotten in Nine Hells soon!"

Wendigo snarled at him. "It's Devourer I came to serve, not you, sleazy slug. Why won't he come down here?"

The Master of Sin inclined his head, still smiling. "What a pity it is to be shunned for the stronger and the most beautiful man, but… It's an honour for you that Devourer even found the time to watch the fights. He is a figure of much higher importance than any of you, fighters of the arena."

"Yeah? Then I will just have to become a figure of even higher im-por-tance. I challenge you to for a fight and your title, lord of Dis!" Wendigo pointed at the Master of Sin's chest. "Here and now, fight me!"

"Oh, do I love to fight beautiful women… Very will, it will be my joy and my pleasure, Wendigo! Don't think I didn't fight for my title myself!"