Undead Beast Master: Living Solely for My Desires

The moment Zaroth entered the arena, memories surged in his mind. He had fought in many similar places when he was still participating in the tournaments held by Draconis. He also recalled the times he'd wagered all his money on Nightshade, always betting she would win—and, as usual, she always did.

'Isn't it funny? When I was betting in the illegal beast fights, I was using the name Hollow, and now I am using it again,' Zaroth thought, as a pale smile appeared on his lips.

But it wasn't just the memories; the moment he stepped into the arena, he found the atmosphere far more relaxing.

There were no naked, abused, scarred people lying on the ground, scavenging for scraps or waiting for someone to buy them and use them however they pleased.

Instead, there were only two types of people: those who had come to witness a good fight and those who were about to fight. Sure, the fighters were most likely forced into the ring, but for the moment, Zaroth decided to ignore that.

Before finding a seat, however, his stomach growled as the smell of something enticing reached his nose.

He didn't need a long time to figure out that it was the smell of popcorn. With absolutely zero hesitation, Zaroth bought one of the biggest sizes they had. The price wasn't reasonable, but he didn't mind; it was nice to relax from time to time like this.

Going up the stairs, he sat in one of the seats in the middle rows—not too close and not too far, just the perfect distance to be able to see the whole ring without having to move his head.

There was no match yet, so Zaroth began munching on the popcorn, a smile on his face.

'Aren't you a little too carefree? You have to hurry and find a suitable slave, buy them, then enter the auction and hope you spot the elf before someone else does,' Luna remarked.

Zaroth chuckled. 'True, but I don't think it would hurt to shut off my brain for a few hours and just enjoy some fights. It's better than being constantly on edge trying to do something.'

Hearing that answer, even though Luna wasn't summoned, a giant grin appeared on her face. It seemed she had managed to convince Zaroth that he needed to take breaks from time to time. His mental health was important, and if he didn't, he might spiral even further into the madness he was already experiencing... becoming more insane than he already was, would not a good idea.

A few minutes later, Zaroth's heart skipped a beat as he cursed himself in regret. 'Oh, the tragedy! How could I have made such a mistake!'

Hearing his inner thoughts, Luna asked, 'What are you talking about?' Though it was clear her master was regretting something, she wasn't sure why.

His eyes filled with regret as he stared at the empty popcorn bag. It was completely empty—he had eaten it all before the first fight had even started!

He debated whether he should go back and buy another, but it was too late. An elderly man in his eighties, moving slowly with the aid of a wooden cane, walked to the center of the ring.

"Thank you for coming here today!" Despite his old age, the man's voice was loud and clear enough to be heard throughout the whole arena.

"Some of you have come here to purchase a suitable slave, others just to see a spectacle. Whatever the reason, I want to thank you for attending. And I want to extend my gratitude to the Outlaws who have sponsored this event."

Seeing the old man about to spend more time thanking the sponsors, Zaroth mentally zoned out, noting that the Outlaws appeared to have significant influence over the entire city.

'Huh… it's almost like they are in charge of it…' he thought.

Soon after, the old man left, and fights began to take place.

Most of the matches were between two fellow slaves—some relying on armor and weapons, others on magical abilities, and some on martial arts.

From time to time, a well-known slave would come out, and the whole arena would begin to cheer as soon as their name was called out. In these instances, it was not a one-on-one fight, but it would be multiple against one person.

Most of the fights ended with the loser's death.

In a few rare instances, there would even be beasts fighting against the slaves.

There had been a lot of fights scheduled to take place, and the whole day had passed just like that. Zaroth did enjoy the spectacle, that was for sure, but one thing stood out to him.

They were weak. Even the famous slaves, those who seemed to have the crowd's favor, were far too weak. Zaroth wasn't an exceptional fighter—at least that was his belief—but he was confident that he could defeat most of them in a one-on-one fight, even without using his skills or beasts.

He couldn't rely on such people to fight with; they would become a liability rather than a help.

Still, he wasn't discouraged. Finding a suitable slave to purchase in a single day wasn't possible, so he would have to spend a few days searching.

*****

About a week had passed. Other than sleeping and eating, Zaroth spent most of his time visiting all of the different arenas. Some were small, some were larger, but nothing caught his attention.

It was true that some of the slaves were more skilled than others. Occasionally, a stunning woman would enter the ring, only to reveal herself as a deadly opponent, and the audience would start betting on who would buy her once the fight ended.

Not only were they powerful, they would be able to satisfy all of their sexual fantasies. But to Zaroth, this didn't matter. He had women that he could be with if he wished to, and he definitely wasn't going to sleep with a woman against her will, that was for sure.

It was another typical day. Zaroth sat in his seat, regretting his life choices once again, with an empty popcorn bag in his hands—having finished it before the fights even began.

"I think this was all a mistake. I doubt that I will find somebody that will catch my attention. If that is the case, I might as well purchase the first high-tier slave I see and be done with it."

As soon as he muttered that, the doors to the two sides of the ring opened.

From one side, more than twenty men entered the arena, which immediately caught Zaroth's attention. He had seen people fight against some of the more famous slaves, but wasn't this too many?

Then, from the other side of the ring, a tall man with a large build entered as well. He had long white hair that reached his waist and two menacing blue eyes. What actually caught Zaroth's attention, however, was that he didn't have any armor. He just had two curved greatswords on his back. The only piece of clothing was the cloth that was around his waist covering his private area.

"And welcome the champion, Eldros!" As soon as the announcer spoke the name, the people in their seats stood up, but they didn't cheer. No, they began to leave.

"Quick! Get out of here!"

"Why did they bring that monster?!"

Angry murmurs began to resonate throughout the whole arena as almost all of the people got up and left.

"That has never happened before," Zaroth muttered as he gazed at Eldros. It was safe to say that Zaroth's interest was piqued, so he began to watch with great intensity.

Just why did the onlookers react in such a way, and how was Eldros going to win this fight?

As soon as the fight began, the men took heavy steps backward. Despite their advantage, fear was evident in their movements. Eldros, observing their hesitation, let out a sigh. "Well," he muttered, "let's get this over with."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Zaroth felt a crushing pressure on his body, as if gravity had suddenly intensified many times over. This sensation spread throughout the arena, affecting everyone present.

And the reason was that above Eldros' head hovered a giant eye, its pupil constantly shifting colors, staring unblinking at everything around it.