Roaring cheers echoed within the grand, oval-shaped coliseum. Most of the audience comprised slave demons from the labor camps. It seemed that the execution ceremony served as entertainment to relieve the stress of the slave demons toiling in harsh labor. Creating a scapegoat for public catharsis and entertainment was a recurring tactic throughout human history, so the similarly amused Suho.0

“It wasn’t always like this,” Esil said, suppressing her anger. “The coliseum was once exclusive to demon nobility. Each noble house would send gladiators to measure their strength against each other. It was used to rank our positions in the hierarchy.”0

With all the demon nobles gone, the arena had turned into a playground for someone wanting to imitate the nobility.1

“What’s the tyrant’s name? Everyone seems to call him the Tyrant or Tyrant King.”0

“Not only does he have the audacity to imitate us, but he now dares to call himself king! He would have been ground to dust in the good old ...0