The Red Goblet liquor shop sold the most expensive spirits in this provincial town. From wines imported from the distant capital of Valistera to spirits supposedly distilled by a craftsman in some mountain village, its display cases were packed with fine liquor the town's commoners could never dream of affording.

But the shop had another, true purpose. Deep within its liquor cellar was a secret door off-limits to ordinary customers. Beyond it, a flight of stairs led down to a vast colosseum beneath the town.

The Red Goblet was not the only entrance. Shops throughout the town connected to the colosseum: inns, restaurants, general stores. Though ordinary in appearance, they all doubled as entrances.

All this was possible because the entire town belonged to Evil.

“Hmm.”

A woman with red horns spoke as she examined the bottles on display.

Crimson Ringmistress.

She was one of Eclipse, the seven monsters against whom even kingdoms were powerless. Running a finger over a bottle's label, she chuckled.

“What's with that face? Didn't you want to meet me?”

Both cheeks flushed red, Evil fidgeted with her fingers. Her usual composure and arrogance were nowhere to be found. Her clothes were disheveled, and her breathing kept trembling.

“I-I never imagined you would v-visit today...”

“Oh, I was scheduled to come tomorrow, wasn't I? Shall I leave if you aren't ready to receive me?”

“Ah—n-no, there's no n-need for that.”

Evil stammered, not daring to raise her head. Flustered by the visit a day ahead of schedule, she had hurried upstairs, but there was no real problem. The colosseum was closed in preparation for tomorrow anyway.

“Ervina Cares.”

Crimson picked up one of the bottles and turned toward Evil. At the sound of that name, Evil's shoulders twitched.

“This is quite an elaborate game of make-believe for a young noblewoman. Of all the businesses you could have chosen, why a colosseum?”

“I-I...”

Evil steadied her rapid breathing before continuing.

“I visited your colosseum as a child, Lady Crimson. I was captivated by the sight of you reigning over it, L-Lady Crimson...”

“Hmm.”

Crimson smiled, stroking the bottle cradled against her.

“So my colosseum excited you. As its owner, I'm grateful. Is that why you built one?”

“Yes... Th-that's right. It's a humble place compared to yours, Lady Crimson...”

“It's down below, isn't it?”

Crimson drew a deep breath and whispered,

“I can smell blood from underground. Show me the way.”

“Y-yes...!”

“Oh, may I take this?”

Crimson raised the bottle as she asked. Evil nodded, her shoulders trembling faintly.

“Yes...! If any of the liquor here is to your liking, please feel free to take it.”

“One bottle is enough.”

Crimson answered with a chuckle.

* * *

“What the hell is going on?”

Gaon blinked anxiously, looking around again and again. Hustled out by the jailers' urging, they found not just the lower-league fighters gathered in the colosseum, but every fighter from the middle and upper leagues as well.

Even all the Evomon had been assembled. Well over a hundred fighters and Evomon now stood in the arena.

Yuto looked behind him. Of all the Evomon, only the Mad Fox was locked in a cage, restrained by magical chains and a blindfold. Unlike the others, the Mad Fox was utterly impossible to control.

“Has this ever happened before?”

“Not that I know of,” Rugil answered tensely.

“This is my first time seeing fighters from the other leagues. And look over there. They've even brought out the prison slaves who aren't fighters yet.”

The slaves wore little more than rags and did not even have chokers. Jackie was among them. He looked surprised when he recognized Yuto, but did not dare approach, apparently afraid of the jailers standing guard with drawn blades.

“There aren't even any guests... Why have they gathered us all here?”

“Maybe they're making us clean the whole place?”

Rugil scowled and shot Gaon a sidelong look at the suggestion.

“Don't be ridiculous.”

“Hey, why else would they have us standing here? Like you said, there aren't even any guests...”

“Shh.”

Yuto cut Gaon off. A door had opened in the stands above.

Evil emerged first, followed by someone else: a woman with red horns, carrying a liquor bottle. The instant Yuto saw her—

THUMP.

Yuto's heart began to race. Thump, thump, thump. As it pounded wildly, his breathing quickened. His hands had clenched into fists without his realizing, and now they trembled.

It was the exact opposite of what he had felt upon seeing the Mad Fox. If longing and sorrow had filled his chest then, what surged through him now was—

The urge to kill.

He felt a burning hatred and an impulse to wring that woman's neck right this instant.

'What... is this...?'

His nails dug into his palms until blood welled up, but he did not even feel the pain. He had never seen this woman before. Not as far as he could remember. Yet an indescribable hatred boiled up from the depths of his chest.

'I... know that woman.'

Certainty surged through him: this woman whose name he did not even know was his enemy. A sharp pain throbbed through his head, as though it might split apart. Amid memories that hovered just beyond his grasp, murderous intent and hostility mingled, raging toward her.

“Hey, what's wrong with you?”

Gaon flinched at the sight of Yuto's face. Usually so impassive, it had now drained of color, his eyes cold and murderous.

“It's... nothing.”

Yuto answered curtly and forced down the impulse seething within him. He had to calm down. Giving in would accomplish nothing. A high wall separated the arena floor from the stands, armed jailers were everywhere, and above all, a choker encircled his neck.

No. In truth, none of that mattered. Yuto knew instinctively.

As he was now, there was nothing he could do to kill that woman. He could tell just by looking at her from afar. She was on an entirely different level. That was a true monster cloaked in a beautiful shell. Depending on her mood, every life here could vanish like dust.

“Bow your heads, all of you!”

After escorting the woman to the VIP seats, Evil called out. Unlike her usual voice, hers was brimming with excitement.

“Today! An exceptionally distinguished guest has graced our colosseum! One of Eclipse...! The ruler of the Arena of Blood! Lady Crimson Ringmistress!”

The assembled fighters were aghast. A monster whom even the kingdom dared not cross. Their faces filled with terror at the realization that such a being stood before them.

Seated in the VIP section, Crimson gazed down at the colosseum with a bored expression. Uncorking her bottle, she slowly surveyed the hundred-odd fighters and Evomon gathered below.

“Is this everyone?”

“Y-yes...! It is!”

Evil hurriedly sat beside her.

“They are all slaves belonging to me. They must seem utterly insignificant to you, Lady Crimson, but I have trained them to obey my every command.”

“Slaves, hmm.”

Crimson tilted her head slightly. Evil glanced at the bottle in Crimson's hand, wondering when to offer her a glass. Naturally, Evil was holding two.

“I don't see any nobles.”

“No... No, I haven't been able to procure any such fighters yet.”

“What were you planning to show me?”

Resting her chin on her hand, Crimson stared at Evil. Under that crimson gaze, Evil swallowed hard before answering.

“Anything you wish to see. A one-on-one match, a team battle, a death match, a fight to the death against an Evomon...! You need only ask.”

“Hmm.”

Tilting her head, Crimson turned her gaze back toward the arena. Every fighter bowed low, trembling.

Evil anxiously watched for her reaction. Crimson did not look particularly interested. That was only natural. The fighters in the Arena of Blood she ruled were incomparably superior to those here. Even nobles blessed by constellations fought there.

Evil knew that, but as a mere noble herself, she could not recruit other nobles as fighters. Why would any of them need to become fighters in the first place? Evil was a noble too. She enjoyed watching desperate battles from up here, but could not imagine taking part in a filthy fight down below herself.

“They're all...” Crimson began.

“Wearing shackles. To make them obey your orders, I assume?”

“Pardon...? Yes, that's right. With a gesture from me, the chokers will cut their...”

“You see...”

Crimson's hand caressed Evil's cheek. Evil's shoulders twitched at the gentle touch.

“I hate people who look down from above.”

Her red eyes curved into crescents.

“I don't like people who assume they're always ‘above’ everyone else. Drag them down and make them roll in the mud, and they become so much like those who were there from the start that you can't even tell them apart.”

“... Pardon?”

“In my arena, creatures born into nobility, who spent their whole lives enjoying privilege, struggle desperately just to survive another day. Why do you think that is? It's simple. I threw them in there.”

Crimson whispered with a smile. Evil stared blankly, unable to immediately take in her meaning. The fingers caressing her cheek slid down and took one of the glasses she held.

“You wrote it in your letter, didn't you? That you admire and respect me. That you modeled your colosseum after mine. Honestly, I wasn't expecting much, but it really is just a young noblewoman playing make-believe. If you want to be like me, this isn't enough.”

SHRRRAK!

Red light shot from Crimson's fingertips, coiling around Evil's waist in an instant.

“Playing make-believe simply won't do.”

Crimson whispered languidly. Before Evil could react, her body shot into the air. Then she was hurled over the railing of the VIP section and down into the arena.

“Ah...?!”

Evil cried out in belated alarm. She hurriedly twisted, trying to cast a spell, but with the whip coiled around her, she could not work any magic at all.

BOOM!

Her flailing body slammed into the dirt floor. Dust soiled her lavish clothes, and her elegantly swept-back hair fell into disarray.

“Agh...!”

Evil groaned where she lay. The hundred-odd fighters gathered in the colosseum stared at her in astonishment. Alone in the VIP seats, Crimson giggled as she poured red liquor into her glass.

Evil staggered to her feet. The whip that had coiled around her waist had already returned to Crimson. Swallowing a groan, she looked up at her.

“You said you would show me anything I wanted, didn't you?”

Crimson whispered, swirling her glass.

CRACKLE. CRACKLE.

The whip that had returned to her hand slowly rose into the air, radiating red light.

“What I want to see is a death match. A death match unbound by privilege or rank, where everyone rolls in the mud and struggles desperately just to stay alive.”

The light pouring from the whip began spreading throughout the colosseum. It was Crimson's aether. That blood-red, rippling power settled over the arena like a vast curtain. Before its overwhelming might, the fighters could scarcely breathe, while the Evomon trembled and cowered.

Yuto felt it with his entire body. His skin prickled, and his instincts screamed. The power of a being on an entirely different level pressed down upon the whole colosseum.

CRACKLE. CRACKLE.

Red light seeped into the chokers around the fighters' necks.

CRUNCH!

Every slave's choker shattered at once. The restraints binding the Evomon's limbs broke apart as well.

“Huh...?!”

The fighters gaped in shock. They could never have removed those chokers themselves. The magical restraints that would sever their necks if they tried to force them off had shattered helplessly beneath Crimson's aether.

“L-Lady Crimson?!”

Down on the arena floor, Evil cried out, her face deathly pale. Her means of controlling the slaves was gone. Ignoring her cry, Crimson spoke.

“Go on, all of you. Struggle.”

She took a sip from her glass before continuing.

“Entertain me, and I'll let you live.”