"Noted," Satou said.

Thalassian the Star-Forged was easy to spot , his body of living starlight made him look like a piece of the cosmos had taken humanoid shape. He floated several feet off the ground, apparently having no need to touch the earth.

Azshara the Drowned Queen had created a sphere of water around herself, floating within it like an exhibition in an aquarium. Her black shark-like eyes tracked every movement in the arena with cold calculation.

Morganna the Blood Queen—different from Morgana the vampire mage—sat on a throne that appeared to be made of crystallized blood. She looked ancient and powerful, her crimson eyes holding centuries of accumulated knowledge and power.

And there, standing in the center of the ruins with obvious confidence, was Chronus.

The tenth-seat demon lord looked relatively human today—middle-aged, distinguished, wearing elegant robes that seemed to shift between styles from different eras. But his eyes held that unsettling quality of seeing past, present, and future simultaneously.

Next to him stood a man who could only be Richard Clay.

He was tall, perhaps six and a half feet, with a lean build that suggested speed rather than raw strength. His skin was pale, almost corpse-like, with dark veins visible beneath the surface. He wore simple dark clothing that looked practical rather than ceremonial. His hands were wrapped in black cloth, hiding them from view.

But what drew Satou's attention most were Richard Clay's eyes. They were completely gray—no iris, no pupil, just solid gray orbs that looked dead and empty. And when those eyes settled on Satou, he felt a chill run through him despite his enhanced constitution.

This was a man who'd killed heroes. Who'd mastered an ability that killed everything he touched. Who'd survived for centuries through pure lethality.

"Ah, Loki," Chronus called out, his voice carrying easily across the ruined arena. "You actually brought him. I was half-convinced you'd realize the futility and keep your candidate safely hidden away."

"Why would I do that?" Loki replied smoothly, walking forward with Satou beside him. "You issued a challenge. We accepted. Here we are."

Chronus's eyes shifted to Satou, studying him with that unsettling multi-temporal gaze. "Interesting. You've changed significantly since the summit. The dungeon did quite a number on you, didn't it?"

"I survived," Satou said simply.

"So it seems," Chronus agreed. "Though survival and victory are different things. Richard, what do you think of your opponent?"

Richard Clay's dead gray eyes studied Satou with the professional assessment of a killer evaluating prey. When he spoke, his voice was dry and emotionless, like dust falling from ancient books.

"Strong. Transformed. Enhanced by dragon essence and something else... void energy, perhaps? Interesting. It's been decades since I fought someone who'd survived the Dungeon of Eternal Nightmares. The last three took the coward's route and bypassed the final floor. But you..." A cold smile touched his lips. "You actually defeated Nihilus. Impressive."

"You can tell that just by looking at me?" Satou asked.

"I can tell because you carry death differently now," Richard Clay replied. "Most beings fear death instinctively, even if they hide it well. But you've touched the void itself. You've experienced true non-existence and returned. That changes a person fundamentally."

He unwrapped one hand, revealing gray, withered flesh covered in dark veins that pulsed with sickly energy. "But having touched death and being immune to it are different things. My Decay doesn't discriminate. Dragon scales, void-touched flesh, legendary regeneration—all of it rots and dies when I will it."

"We'll see," Satou said.

"Indeed we will," Richard Clay agreed, rewrapping his hand.

"Gentlemen," a new voice called out, ancient and commanding. The temperature dropped twenty degrees instantly.

Malakor the Eternal had arrived.

The first-seat demon lord simply appeared—no portal, no dramatic entrance, just suddenly existing in a space that had been empty a moment before. His skeletal form was draped in robes that seemed woven from screaming souls, and frost spread across the ground from where he stood.

Every demon lord present immediately straightened, showing respect they'd shown no one else. Even Chronus's arrogant posture became more formal.

"Lord Malakor," multiple voices said in acknowledgment.

The skeletal lord's hollow eye sockets surveyed the gathering. "Are all present?"

"Volcanus has not yet arrived," Nyxara's voice emerged from the shadows. "Nor Nexus."

As if summoned by the mention of his name, Volcanus the Burning materialized in a pillar of flame. The massive red-skinned demon lord's presence made the temperature spike dramatically, creating a bizarre pocket of competing cold and heat where he stood near Malakor.

"Apologies for the delay," Volcanus rumbled. "I was ensuring the proper preparations for our arena. This location has fallen into disrepair since the last significant duel."

"And Nexus?" Malakor asked.

"Here," came a disturbing multi-layered voice. Nexus the Thousand-Eyed simply... was. Satou hadn't seen him arrive, and trying to look directly at the fifth-seat demon lord made his head hurt. Those hundreds of eyes, opening and closing independently, watching everything from every angle simultaneously.

"Then we are complete," Malakor declared. "Eleven demon lords to witness this challenge. Chronus, you have issued formal challenge through your champion, Richard Clay. Satou, provisional seventh-seat, has accepted. The terms are standard—combat until death or surrender. No interference from outside parties. Victory grants the winner their claim. Defeat costs the loser everything."

He looked at both Satou and Richard Clay. "Do both parties understand and accept these terms?"

"I accept," Richard Clay said.

"I accept," Satou confirmed.

"Very well," Malakor said. Then, surprisingly, he stepped back. "Volcanus, Azshara, Thalassian—prepare the arena. This location is insufficient for what we are about to witness."

Volcanus grinned, a terrifying expression on his massive face. "With pleasure."

The three demon lords moved to different positions around the ruined arena, forming a triangle with hundreds of feet between them.

"Stand back," Loki warned Satou, pulling him toward where the other spectators were gathering.

Volcanus raised both arms, and the ground began to shake. The tremors started small but rapidly intensified, until Satou could barely keep his footing. The ancient pillars of the Arena of Fallen Stars cracked and crumbled, millennia-old stone reduced to rubble in seconds.

But that was just the beginning.

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