Mary Geoise's history of slavery has lasted for at least eight hundred years, and humanity's threshold for excitement is always increasing.
Perhaps at first, this arena was just a fair duel between Slaves.
Gradually, it evolved into humans against animals, ability users against non-ability users, and kin killing kin... The duel currently underway was a confrontation between an ability user and a non-ability user.
Although this ability user was only an Animal-type, Ox-Ox Fruit user, he still showed a one-sided dominance when facing a non-ability user who had not trained.
The ability user Slave also understood the psychology of the top figures.
He did not defeat his opponent in one go, but rather played with him like a cat with a mouse, unhurriedly.
The non-ability user looked terrified, stumbling and fleeing across the sandy ground.
The ability user followed unhurriedly, occasionally waving a hand, slicing off a piece of flesh from the opponent's body, clearly intending to flay the opponent alive.
Blood splattered across the arena, looking like blooming blood-red lotuses in the desert from the upper box seats.
Blake pushed open the French windows, and the clamor from the arena instantly flooded the room.
"Ox!"
"Bastard! You, hurry up and fight back! I bet money on you!"
"Ox! Tear him apart!"
...Turning to see Robin and Perona's slightly pale faces, Blake smiled:
"It's normal to feel uncomfortable."
"Even I, who have lived in the Holy Land for over ten years, cannot fully adapt to this lifestyle."
Hearing Blake's comfort, Robin looked up in surprise:
"If that's the case, why don't you think about changing something?"
Blake walked onto the balcony, resting his hand on the ivory railing, pointing at the decorations on it:
"Every gem, every gold thread on it, was melted from the foolish notion of 'improvement'."
He looked at the "Ox" who had already flayed his enemy into a skeleton, pointing at him and saying:
"Look, he's kissing his master's boots—this is the true face of the world."
Robin looked in the direction Blake pointed, seeing the victorious "Ox" kneeling at the feet of a pink-haired female Celestial Dragon, cleaning the surface of her shoes with his tongue.
"The reason you feel uncomfortable is because you are still thinking about problems from the perspective of an inferior person."
"Think about it, if you were that little girl from the Donquixote Family, wouldn't you feel very excited?"
Although Robin had read many books, she hadn't experienced too many of life's ups and downs, and her values hadn't fully formed yet.
Hearing Blake's words, Robin subconsciously followed his line of thought and put herself in that position.
Indeed, an almost imperceptible surge of excitement coursed through her body, making her tremble slightly.
This was an instinctive reaction of humans as higher animals; everyone has violent impulses deep down, but most people can learn to control themselves through acquired education.
And the Celestial Dragons, as the world rulers who legally enjoyed all privileges, did not need to control any of their desires.
If it weren't for his memories from his previous life, Blake would probably be no different from the other Celestial Dragons by now.
He handed the wine glass in his hand to Robin:
"You're lucky; by staying by my side, you've already gained the opportunity to become a superior person."
"Either learn to drink blood from a golden goblet, or lie on the ground and be the blood wine."
"This is the logic of this world."
These words seemed to both comfort Robin and steel his own resolve.
Robin gazed steadily at the stemmed glass in her hand, taking a small sip of the crimson wine within.
Seeing Robin's reaction, Blake revealed a satisfied smile.
No hurry, the shaping of one's worldview must start young and proceed gradually.
Achieving this much today was enough; there would be plenty of time... After leaving the Slave arena, the expressions of the three women varied.
Stella, the oldest, who had already formed a complete worldview, was ironically the one most deeply affected among the three.
Especially since she was also a Slave, it was hard for her not to imagine herself amidst the blood spilled all over the arena floor.
Robin had regained her calm demeanor, though it was unclear what she was thinking.
Perona, on the other hand, was somewhat sullen.
Although she enjoyed mischief, she wasn't inherently malicious.
However, Perona was the youngest and couldn't fully grasp the cruelty involved... Back at the manor, Blake saw Stella looking distracted, the smile that often graced her face gone, and he knew she had been stimulated.
However, he did not comfort Stella.
What Celestial Dragon would care about a Slave's psychological problems?
Even if Blake cared deeply for Stella, he wouldn't do something so "beneath him."
After a moment's thought, he instructed them:
"You two can play for a while, just remember not to leave the manor."
"Stella, you come with me."
Blake wouldn't comfort Stella, but he could alleviate her emotions in other ways.
Sunlight filtered through the trees and stained-glass windows, transforming into a hazy blue-violet that flowed across the mother-of-pearl inlaid desk.
The incense from the distant greenhouse seeped in through the half-open arched window, intertwining with the amber sweetness of pomade to create a dizzying aroma.
The gold embroidery on Blake's cuffs flickered in the dappled sunlight; whenever his arm moved, the intertwining vine patterns seemed to come alive, gliding across the silk fabric.
His fingers still rested on Stella's collarbone, the sweet, cloying scent of pomade diffused between them, his fingertips slowly tracing down her neckline, as if outlining a fragile piece of porcelain.
Blake's unlacing of her corset was like peeling a lychee, his fingertips occasionally brushing the hollow of her spine, causing the pearl necklace to tremble slightly.
"Now, it's time to close your eyes."
Stella didn't answer, but her breathing had already lost its rhythm.
Blake's fingers gently picked at the fabric on her shoulder, his movements slow, as if giving her a chance to refuse.
But she didn't move, only closed her eyes.
When Blake removed his tie pin, the aquamarine pendant touched the crystal ashtray, emitting a clear, resonant tremor.
The sheer curtain he casually pushed aside was lifted by a breeze, the translucent silk curtain brushing against Stella's bare ankles.
Stella heard the droplets from the fountain outside the terrace falling into the marble pool, the rhythmic ticking gradually merging with her own accelerating heartbeat.
The moment the sheer curtain fell, Stella saw a distorted image in the dressing mirror through a mist of tears, the melting candle wax on the gilded candelabra slowly solidifying into coral-like shapes.
As darkness enveloped her, Stella heard the rustle of fabric slipping onto the carpet.
Faintly, a very soft sigh seemed to emanate, but she could no longer distinguish where the sound came from.
Was it Blake? Or herself?
The crumpled dress lay piled on the carpet, like waves pushed ashore by the tide.