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The Spider Queen

Chapter 763: The Deaths Of Many
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(Planet Cthelen- Hive City)

(Subsection Delta Quadrant- Fighting Pit No. 45)

The entrance to the fighting pit was an imposing structure that was covered with carvings of beasts and creatures of legends.

Dragons fought with phoenixes, eldritch horrors rose up from the murky depths of the ocean and beasts of burden with horns upon their foreheads screeched silently.

Stepping through the entranceway would lead one to a vast arena that was surrounded by massive stands filled with hundreds if not thousands of nobles.

The pit itself was partially sunken and filled with different pieces of terrain and environments that could be adjusted based on the desires of the ceremony organisers.

The walls of the arena were made from reinforced metal alloys along with several layers of intricate runic spell work.

Because of these runes, the walls themselves would glow with an eerie blue light that illuminated the arena in a soft otherworldly glow.

The structure and design of this fighting pit had been replicated hundreds of times across Planet Cthelen and inside these arenas were where the princelings and princesses fought to the death.

Sophie leaned back against her chair with her attention fully occupied by what was happening in the arena below.

"No… no please! I give up! I give…" a piercing scream echoed through the arena followed by the sound of a loud thunderous boom.

A handsome young man collapsed on the ground with an enormous hole in the middle of his chest that was still smoking.

The scent of burnt meat filled the air as the high temperature produced from the blast had cooked the flesh around the wound on the corpse.

Standing a few hundred metres away was a slender middle-aged woman with a metalloid gauntlet wrapped around her left hand.

She lowered her hand and the metalloid gauntlet slowly shut off.

The woman approached the corpse of her half brother and looked down at his body for a brief moment.

Then she stepped over him.

The holographic screen floating in the air above the fighting pit suddenly flashed two lines of text which stated the results of the match.

[Candidate No. 456 Defeated!]

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[Candidate No. 547 Will Move On To The Next Stage]

No names were given.

During the succession ceremony, the princes and princesses belonging to the Imperial Family were simply assigned numbers.

It was a cold tradition.

Their names would not be shown on the screen until they advanced to the latter stages of the tournament.

This served as a stark reminder for all who were competing… they were expendable.

The number of potential contenders to the throne would be systematically reduced until only one remained.

"Good match," a whisper came from the side.

Sophie heard the sounds of coins being exchanged among the nobles next to her.

Gambling was loosely permitted during the ceremony, and many took the opportunity to make a fortune or…

To lose everything.

The surviving fighter walked out of the arena and was quickly treated by the standby medical team for any injuries sustained during the battle.

Meanwhile the corpse was unceremoniously dragged through the sand and brought to an open metalloid box where it was placed.

Sophie wasn't sure what was going to happen to the body. Was it going to be returned to his family members?

Was it going to be buried here on Planet Cthelen?

She did not know the answer. All she did know was that this entire affair seemed barbaric and the product of a different era.

The succession ceremony made no sense.

The strongest person was not necessarily the best individual to lead the Imperial Family.

Besides the members of the royal family were all quite talented in cultivation so what was the point of culling so many individuals who could contribute to the Earth Federation.

"I know him," Cleo whispered softly as she looked at the closed box with an unknown emotion in her eyes.

"Prince Augustus… he once helped guide me through the main palace during my first visit because I got lost…"

"Did you know him well?" Sophie asked with concern evident in her voice.

"No… I only met him once but… he will not be the last person among my half siblings that I know… it's strange really…" Cleo laughed as she spoke, but her smile did not reach her eyes.

"My whole life I've competed, fought, and hated them but… now seeing them die one by one in front of my eyes… I don't feel happy."

Sophie stretched out her palm and gave Cleo's hand a gentle squeeze. She didn't know what to say in this moment so all she could do was silently support her girlfriend.

Their brief moment of peace was soon interrupted as yet another fight started.

There were so many individuals with a claim to the throne that the first couple of rounds of the tournament were nonstop.

The pace and waiting period between each fight would only get longer once a sufficient number of royal offsprings had been eliminated.

The text on the floating holographic projection changed as two armored figures strode into the arena.

[Commencing Fight: Candidate No. 78 VS Candidate No. 10056]

The spectators fell silent as the two fighters took their positions across from each other.

The arena's environment shifted, and the desert-like environment transformed into a lush tropical forest complete with small animals and birds that soared through the air.

Sophie powered on her wrist communicator and took a picture of each fighter.

She ran their pictures through one of the information databases and soon discovered their identities.

The fighter wearing white armour with the golden engraving of a horse along his forearm was Prince David.

He stood at an impressive six feet five inches in height but possessed a slender physique that appeared as though one could snap him in half like a twig.

A helmet covered most of his facial features, but Sophie found a picture online of him without the mask.

He was a relatively good-looking guy with a sharp jawline and a slightly hooked nose that he had not gotten surgery to correct.

His opponent wore a light red bodysuit around her body with minimal armour plates that only covered her important organs.

Princess Amara.

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A powerful mage from a long lineage of spellcasters who had the nickname of the 'Siren Of Temptation'.

It was obvious why.

Her features were flawless. Perfectly symmetrical and sculpted with such precision that it seemed as though the gods themselves had designed her face.

Her eyes were the same piercing green colour as the rest of the members of the royal family and yet they contained hints of gold.

She possessed a hypnotic gaze that drew the attention of everyone who met her stare.

Light, dark lashes framed those seductive eyes which fluttered with every movement that she made.

Her skin was a dark brown colour that contrasted with her vibrant black hair that flowed effortlessly down her shoulders.

And her figure…

Sophie looked down at her chest and for the first time… she felt defeated. Princess Amara possessed two impressive peaks that were even larger than hers.

The princess blew a kiss at her opponent and Prince David's face flushed involuntarily. Even he could not resist the feminine bombshell standing in front of him.

And that one moment of weakness…

Was all it took.

[BEGIN!]

Princess Amara snapped her fingers and ten runic circles appeared around Prince David's body before he even had any time to react.

She did not even need to chant.

She merely waved her hands and the flow of mana inside her mana core adjusted itself simultaneously to her will.

Prince David activated the shielding function on his armour, but a large thick green vine shot out of the first magic circle and penetrated his armour like a hot knife passing through butter.

The second magic circle turned the ground beneath his feet into a frozen wasteland and heavy ice spikes rose up from the ground and stabbed his lower limbs.

He remained frozen in place with a helpless expression on his face as the final circles activated one by one.

Princess Amara turned to the crowd and winked as she snapped her fingers one more time.

Lightning, hellfire, and a blizzard all engulfed her half sibling who did not even have time to scream before he died in agony.