Court came to life the day of the games.

The Devil’s pit was ready to welcome and delight thousands of eager demons. The grandiose oval-shaped pit of sand, lay buried deep behind Court, sustaining five floors to seat hundreds of thousands of demons. Leviathan couldn’t disagree with Lucious regarding the structure: The arena was the imp’s most impressive work since the construction of the palace. The expansive stone and ironwork served as a testament to the demons’ advancement from their days in huts.

In order to dismiss the winds of Hell and deter certain winged guest from intruding, the imps sealed the arena's top with thick iron-glass. Seen from the top of Court’s towers, the entire structure looked like a giant tortoise’s shell made of glass, poking through Hell’s red soil.

It pleased Leviathan to revive the ancient edifice. Satan had erected it to host the Tests and entertainment battles as means of strength and power displays. Back then, Satan himself  indulged with any demon who challenged him. Rich and fresh souls were set as offerings to the winner, despite the devil no longer needing their essence to satiate his hunger. No, his appetite came from the crowds he entertained, and who loved him for it. After all, an amused demon won’t realise it’s being conquered.

Before Lucious was born, Leviathan and Beelzebub wildly cheered from the royal cabin when Satan went down to the pit, they too, had submitted to the love and admiration they held for their father. Their puny screams were nothing but two grains of sand in the vast dunes made up of famished demons. Still, their father would give them a wink or two between swings and wins that would make them soar.

For the years that followed, Beelzebub matured, dismissing the delusion that was Satan. He moved on and guided Lucious along with him when their baby brother was old enough to  make sense of their world, but Leviathan stayed behind, caught afloat in his father's mercy and whims. It only led to a roller coaster of attempts to prove himself worthy, despite his curse. Leviathan would never know if he succeeded.

It hadn't always been like this, but like his father, Leviathan now had the love of his people. He had always aimed for it, but he was never meant to be king. Not him, the cursed son. Beelzebub had always been the favoured one, and would've been to this day, had he not chosen an angel to be with. Lucious came next, and he had actually won his Test. By right, he was the rightful king. But since they were children, his brother's heart had already been stolen by a rare soul on Earth. Lucious admitted that it hadn’t been a difficult decision to give up the throne.

This red-haired demon came last, and he wasn't the favoured or the winning son, but he was the one who stayed, and the one who had always wanted it the most. Somewhere between the lows and highs of his curse, Leviathan caught the love of his people. All there was left to do was to keep it alive. For now, he needed his demons to forget their panic caused by these random skirmishes while he dealt with it quietly. With that thought, he spied the box where most of the high nobles gorged in their drinks with encrypted anticipation. Faust, the most cunning of the sycophants, kept one dubious eye on his surroundings, though Leviathan could tell the high lord’s other eye strayed too easily to his special boy servants — remnants of the Grey servants; young servant men who were too far gone to come back with a sane mind once the Grey had been lifted; but who still held sound and attractive bodies.

These games served a deeper purpose. There was opportunity here. In addition to offering much needed distraction, here was the chance to lessen the similarities between him and his father. For one, Leviathan hoped the event would help shift souls in a new light.

It was risky business, and he wouldn’t admit it to Miina when she confronted him the other night, not knowing how things would go, but for souls to rise and stake their survival in Hell, they had to do what any cursed demon had to do: They had to prove they deserved it. They had to fight for it. Much like that giant woman soul at the training courtyard had done by defeating a *gnoll with her bare hands. Leviathan hadn’t planned for that particular outcome, but his selection of lost souls proved he was on the right track. Some sins weighed heavier than others, and the stronger the sinner, the heavier their stake. With a single move, that soul alone had given demons pause. Souls would need that kind of respect if they were to survive this world.

Cheers and roars erupted when Leviathan walked in the royal cabin on the first floor. The funny feeling taking him back to his childhood was gone. The thousand cries that resounded his stomach called for his name; not his father’s.

There were demons from all races here who had come from all corners of Hell. Even the *Greymalkin, who prided themselves for their preference for closed-quarters-lustful events, seemed unable to resist this momentous festivity and cheered joyfully, proving that demon nature really came second to none.

The corner of Leviathan’s eye caught his captain, who stood by the entrance of the cabin. With a firm stance and sharp gaze, she focused on her duties, choosing to ignore her king. Leviathan wasn’t fooled; she was pissed. 

The king waved greetings and took his seat, dismissing speeches. No one cared for formalities that would delay the matches even longer.

Lucious walked in and unceremoniously sat on the chair beside him. Everything about him screamed his wishes to have this affair finished as soon as possible.

“What, no Mara?” Leviathan asked, testing the waters.

“She’s not feeling well, so I’ve let her rest on Earth.”

Okay, so Lucious was also pissed; though maybe he was more upset with himself for agreeing to this spectacle.

“Will she come for drinks later?”

Lucious’ side-glance confirmed he didn’t care to continue their purposeless chat. Leviathan still wondered how he had got Lucious to agree to this, weeks before. The mere mention of souls being part of the equation saw his brother’s brow twitch in protest, followed by a series of long-winded arguments. Fair enough. His wife to be was a rare soul. Given a welcoming glance, any demon here would gobble her up without a second thought, no matter how much they loved their king. It had to have been the silver wolf’s input that helped. For once, Mammon had actually sided with Leviathan, seeing the king’s logic, even when he failed to explain it as eloquently as the demon wolf did. When Mammon explained it to Lucious, even Leviathan blushed at his own brilliance.

Just then, Mammon arrived and, pulling his usual butler stance with arms on the side, he stood by the chair that was his to use. Leviathan swallowed a tease, since it was because of his Grand Marshal that he had pulled most of this together while unmolested by Lucious, he grinned widely and nudged the chair at him. “At ease, Grand Marshal. Take a beat. No Haru, either?”

“Haru is not an… admirer of violence.”

At least the wolf was blunt and respectful.

Leviathan’s smile died when he caught Miina’s reproachful glance. He wondered then, how long was she going to make him wait this time. 

Drums announced the start of the games. 

Miina