It had been two full days since Julius was locked in that cage. Every day, according to Earth time, he was served breakfast at exactly 6 a.m.—a single bowl of boiled rice and 100 grams of grilled salmon. At noon, he'd receive his lunch: ¾ cup (150g) of boiled lentils, 1 cup (150g) of steamed rice, and ½ cup (75g) of boiled carrots. Dinner came later, consisting of a single boiled egg (50g), 1 cup (150g) of steamed rice, ½ cup (75g) of cooked spinach, and ½ cup (120ml) of plain yogurt.
He was also given two glasses of water before and after each meal—breakfast, lunch, and dinner—totaling ten glasses per day.
In addition to the scheduled meals, Julius had tried to consume a little raw meat from the remains of the old man who had once shared his cage. But every time he did, nausea overtook him. The meat had already begun to decay and emit a foul odor. He could barely stomach it.
Like the past two mornings, Julius awoke around 6 a.m., Earth time. Day and night here followed the same rhythm as on Earth.
But this morning, things were different.
There was no breakfast.
Instead, a chilling announcement echoed through the holding chamber.
The same menacing demon who had spoken on the first day entered the room, positioning himself where every caged slave could see and hear him clearly.
With a voice that froze the air, he declared:
"Finally, only one slave remains in most of the cages. Yes, a few cages still have two or even three, but that won't matter for long.
Starting today, Level 1 begins.
In this level, you will fight each other to survive—for food.
From now on, no one will be fed.
Each of you will participate in up to three battles per day. Who fights whom, when, and how—we decide. Refusal is not an option.
The number of battles you win determines how much food you earn for the day.
Lose a battle, and you die.
Mercy will not be tolerated. Anyone showing mercy—either by sparing or holding back—will be punished. Neither the merciful nor their opponent will receive any food, no matter the outcome. Worse, for the next two days, even if they win future battles, they will receive no rewards.
In ten minutes, match announcements will be made. All chosen fighters will be taken from their cages to the arena."
Without another word, the demon turned and exited the room in silence, leaving behind an eerie tension.
The slaves sat frozen, fear in their eyes.
From this point forward, they would have to earn their meals with blood.
Julius still had the old man's knife.
That gave him an edge—if weapons were allowed.
The thought kept circling in his mind.
He muttered to himself:
"I doubt these demons care about rules—let alone enforcing any. They only seem to value strength. If I can use this knife properly, I might be able to secure all three meals every day… unless my opponent is armed too."
His voice was somewhat deep, but not excessively so—steady, determined.
The ten minutes passed quickly.
Suddenly, ten demons entered the room. Each had their face entirely wrapped in pure white cloth, concealing their identities. In their hands, they carried long, black spears—dark as night, pulsing with menace.
One of them spoke to the other demons already present in the room:
"Unlock all the cages. Restrain the slaves in chains—restrict their movement as much as possible, but leave them able to walk. Blindfold them with white cloth."
The others obeyed without hesitation.
One by one, the slaves were pulled from their cages. Thick chains were fastened around their limbs, restricting their range of motion. Some tried to resist—tried to run.
But they were beaten down brutally.
Once chained, their faces were wrapped in the same white cloth, plunging them into darkness. The ends of their chains were then handed over to the newly arrived, faceless demons.
Julius was among them—chained and blindfolded, standing somewhere in the middle of the line. There were several slaves ahead of and behind him.
Directly in front of him stood a girl—a human, about his age.
Julius knew her.
And she knew Julius.
But with their faces covered, neither had any idea they were standing so close.
Their fates, like everyone else's, were now bound by chain and blood.
They were brought out of that room, but with their blindfolds still tightly covering their eyes, they couldn't see a thing.
Only the sound of their chains echoed sharply through the air.
CLING CLING CLING
For about five minutes, they were forced to walk blindly, their footsteps ringing on the hard ground.
Then, finally, the blindfolds were removed.
What they saw froze them in place, dread flooding their hearts.
The entire sky above was a swirling sea of crimson red clouds—like the heavens themselves were ablaze. The air was thick with heat and ash, and below them, the ground burned fiercely. Their feet felt the sting of scorching earth, and instinctively they shuffled around, searching for even a hint of coolness. Some remained rooted in place, unable to move from the searing heat.
In front of them stood a colossal fighting arena—an otherworldly stage forged from molten rock. It floated midair, held up by no visible support, as if suspended by sheer magic or some dark force. Beneath it, rivers of molten lava twisted and churned, glowing with fierce, fiery light.
But this was just the beginning—stretching out before them were millions of these floating arenas, like a shattered battlefield suspended in a fiery abyss.
Surrounding these arenas were monstrous statues and structures carved from magma stone—massive, twisted figures of three-headed hellhounds, snarling demons with jagged horns, and seductive but deadly succubi. Each statue's gaping maw spewed glowing lava, as if the very breath of hell poured out in molten streams.
The whole place was a nightmare landscape—a realm of fire and brimstone, where the air shimmered with heat waves and the ground itself seemed alive with fury.
This was the stage for their survival.