Arthur found himself standing in the middle of a colossal arena.
The colosseum stretched so high it almost scraped the pale, colorless sky. Tier upon tier of stone seating rose upward in a vast circle, packed with vampires.
From children with small, sharp fangs to elderly figures with withered faces and ancient eyes—they filled every seat, their gazes locked on the center.
Most of them were booing.
Hissing.
Throwing insults.
Their voices merged into a chaotic roar, all directed at Arthur.
He glanced to the side.
Olivia stood not far from him, also in the arena. Her hands were still tied with the same strange material as his had been, though she stood upright, her expression tense and wary.
High above, on one side of the colosseum, there was a raised platform.
Only officials loyal to the throne were seated there.
