(Planet Cthelen- Hive City)
(Subsection Delta Quadrant- Fighting Pit No. 45)
Just outside the fighting pit was a large building that contained a hall around the size of a football field.
This hall used to be the location where the genetically modified humans of the Delta Quadrant would usually go to rest and there were basic beds and some washrooms located in the building.
But now the hall served a different purpose.
It had now been transformed into a gambling den with the unspoken permission of the tournament organisers.
This was because unless the noble guests on planet Cthelen interfered with the tournament itself or broke the neutrality law, the organisers and the Guardian would turn a blind eye.
Stepping inside the hall would lead one inside a world of decadence and intrigue.
The heavy scent of smoke filled the air and bright flashing lights illuminated the interior of the hall.
A loud cacophony of voices echoed through the hall as dozens of gamblers huddled around the numerous booths scattered throughout the space.
Shocked gasps, angry curses and cries of excitement mixed with happiness could regularly be heard coming from the crowd.
At the back of the hall, towering holographic screens displayed the real-time odds and predictions of the upcoming fights.
Other screens showed the battles unfolding in the pits themselves which intertwined the deadly spectacles with the allure of wealth.
The elegantly dressed dealers politely spoke to the noble guests and offered them free drinks and refreshments to keep them happy.
A band had been hired and they were playing on a raised platform.
The soft and gentle melody of a jazzy beat helped to keep the atmosphere surprisingly calm and relaxed.
"Give me two hundred thousand Enas on princess Elsa… I got a good feeling about her winning," a grizzled old man spoke excitedly as he lifted up his card and swiped it against the reader.
"Of course, sir," the dealer behind the machine calmly spoke.
"Here is your betting slip. The odds are currently ten to one so if your chosen champion succeeds then you will more than quadruple your initial bet."
The grizzled old man grinned widely and grabbed the slip out of the dealer's hand. He ran off to the corner of the room and stared at one of the screens.
On the other side of the projection a young woman stood silently in the middle of a frozen tundra while her opponent tried desperately to stop himself from freezing to death.
Princess Elsa stood tall and composed as she thrust her arms formed and a surge of freezing air followed her movements.
Enormous spikes of ice jutted out of the ground beneath her feet as the temperature around her body plunged to unfathomable levels.
Her opponent scowled and then swung his blade at the incoming shards of ice that threatened to skewer him.
The young prince's blade easily cut through the hailstorm, but he did not notice the spike coming up from the ground beneath his feet.
Stab!
Princess Elsa's opponent froze as the ice spike destroyed his heart and erupted from the other side of his chest in a brutal display of cruelty.
He slumped lifelessly but his body could not move from same place because the ice spike anchored him just above the ground.
The blood leaking out of his corpse instantly froze and frost began to creep up his skin.
"YES! YES! I won! I WON!" the grizzled old man shouted for joy as he ran towards the dealer with his betting slip held firmly in his palm.
He was not the only one crying out in ecstasy but there were quite a few nobles who ripped up their betting slips or tossed them on the ground.
Such was the result after the end of every fight.
There were always winners and losers after the results had been made clear.
Still if you kept gambling for long enough, you would soon come to notice to somehow the house always seemed to make a profit.
Even on fights where people won despite the odds.
It was rumored that the nobles behind the gambling den spared no expense to hire the best information guilds and organizations to investigate each candidate.
And clearly it was paying off!
In addition to betting on the outcome of the fights, there were a few machines in the back of the hall that could be played.
Slot chances, dice games and other random games of chance that drew the attention of the gamblers who did not have much luck guessing the outcomes of the fight.
The bright neon lights which indicated that a jackpot had been won continued to ring out continuously all throughout the day.
Meanwhile away from the den of gambling, Sophie was currently sitting down in one of the stands and watching the fight below with a bored expression on her face.
Maybe she was just desensitised to death after being in so many life and death situations, but the fights below just seemed… wasteful.
Top young talent of the Federation with impressive genetic lineages were being slaughtered before they could reach their prime.
The most powerful cultivator among the young generations of the Imperial Family was only in the void stage.
But there was a potential for them to eventually reach the god stage or even further beyond and that potential alone should have been enough to protect them.
The number of god stage cultivators in the entire Federation was incredibly few. They were a precious resource and every single one of them was a valuable powerhouse.
Unfortunately, the young princes and princesses would never be given the opportunity to reach that stage.
Sophie watched as a young woman screamed as she was slowly torn apart in a fiery storm of sharp needles.
Her opponent showed her no mercy and the needles cut up her body piece by piece while she was still alive.
It was a horrific way to die.
Loud cheers and whistles erupted from the crowds of noble onlookers in the stands, and they clapped their hands together in appreciation.
None clapped louder than the nobles who belonged to the victorious prince's faction and broad smiles stretched across their faces.
The succession ceremony had enormous political implications for noble society without exaggeration it could lead to the end of certain aristocrat families and the rise of others.
Those who had chosen a certain candidate to support had placed their bets on the table compared to others like Sophie who had remained neutral.
Staying neutral was the safe option but it would not bring any benefits while supporting a candidate was risky, but the rewards would be great.
A grateful emperor or empress could easily award their backers wealth, status or additional authority or influence.
Sophie could only hope that the next leader of the Imperial Family was someone with a good head on their shoulders.
The last thing that they needed was a second coming of the late emperor or gods forbid… someone even worse.
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