Omniphage of Apathy

Morning arrived. The clouds hung low in the sky, promising another downpour.

Yet for now, the rain held off, leaving the air cool and thick with tension. The arena was alive with noise, the clamor of footsteps and the distant rumble of drums. The crowds were fuller than ever, spilling into the stands. Merchants hawked their wares near the entrances.

Today was not like other days.

The king of the kingdom and his family were approaching, their arrival heralded by banners fluttering in the rising wind. Royal soldiers lined the main pathway to the arena, their polished armor glinting faintly under the muted daylight.

Cheers erupted in waves as the royal procession appeared on the horizon, the king's golden carriage flanked by knights on horseback. The crowd surged forward, shouting praises and waving flags emblazoned with the kingdom's sigil.

Inside the arena, the host—a tall, broad-shouldered man with a booming voice and a commanding presence—stepped onto the central platform. His face was as sharp and weathered as the swords wielded in his pits, his eyes gleamed with cruel amusement. This man, the one responsible for chaining Chainless to a life of blood and survival, raised his arms high.

"Lords and ladies of the kingdom!" He bellowed, his voice amplified by magic. "Today, you are graced by the presence of our noble king and his esteemed family! Let us show them the strength, the courage, and the spectacle of our gladiators!"

The crowd responded with deafening cheers, the sound echoing through the arena like a storm breaking.

The host gestured toward the massive iron gates that lined the arena floor. Slowly, they creaked open, revealing the first wave of fighters, gladiators bound by shackles they couldn't break.

The games began.

One by one, the fighters faced monstrous creatures dragged into the arena by chains thicker than a man's arm. Towering beasts with massive claws and fangs lunged at the gladiators, who fought desperately for survival. Some managed to slay their foes, earning cheers and temporary reprieve. Others fell, their blood soaking into the floor as the crowd roared its approval.

The host watched with a sadistic smile, reveling in the violence.

High above, at the very top of the colosseum, Vastarael stood unnoticed. The Invisible Veil had worn off hours ago but his vantage point was so distant and shrouded in shadows that no one bothered to look his way. His golden eyes gleamed as he observed the arena, his Advanced Vision capturing every detail, every swing of a sword, every spurt of blood, every anguished cry.

His arms were crossed, his posture relaxed, but his mind was anything but.

From his perch, he could see the host smirking below, see the king and his family seated in their royal box, enjoying the carnage as though it were theater. He scanned the cages and cells lining the lower levels of the arena, noting the faces of the enslaved fighters waiting their turn, some trembling, others resigned.

His lips curled into a cold smile.

"Today is the day of freedom."

As if responding to his words, the first drops of rain began to fall. It started as a light drizzle but within moments, the clouds burst open, unleashing a torrential downpour. The crowd groaned, pulling up hoods and raising makeshift covers. The torches lining the arena sputtered and hissed, their flames struggling against the rain.

Vastarael tilted his head back, feeling the rain on his face. He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the coolness, the clarity it brought to his thoughts.

"Oh I love the rain. Is it because of my water divinity? If only I could flood everyone here like I did with Stephos but... that's a mercy they shouldn't receive."

He looked down at the arena, where the games continued despite the rain, the fighters and beasts slipping on the now-muddy ground. His gaze shifted to Chainless, hidden in the shadows below, her chains coiled like a serpent ready to strike.

He clenched his fist, sapphire light shimmering faintly around him.

"Well, time for a dramatic entrance."

With that, he began to descend.

The descent was swift, rain whipping against his skin as he plummeted toward the arena floor. He angled his body, sapphire energy gathering around him in a subtle glow. The moment he landed, the impact was monumental.

A deafening boom echoed across the colosseum as he struck the wet ground, his landing unleashing a powerful shockwave. Mud and bloody water erupted outward in a circular blast, sending creatures and gladiators alike sprawling to the ground. Weapons clattered from hands and even the crowd above reeled from the force, their cheers turning to gasps of shock.

The storm seemed to pause for a moment.

Vastarael straightened slowly, the water splattered around him untouched by his pristine form. His cloak (he stole it from the colosseum for dramatic effect) billowed slightly as he looked around, his golden eyes glowing faintly in the dim cloudy skylight.

The beasts that had moments ago torn through gladiators with feral rage turned their attention to him. Their eyes burned with primal hatred and they roared in unison, charging toward him with thunderous steps that shook the ground.

Vastarael didn't move.

As the first beast lunged, he raised his hand, his palm glowing with blue light. Sapphire shards materialized midair, slowly swirling like drills. With a flick of his wrist, they shot forward, piercing the creature's skull. It fell instantly, its body crumpling into the mud.

The second beast followed, and then a third, but their fates were no different. Each met the same end. A silent, merciless death delivered by spikes of sapphire that rained down like divine judgment. Within moments, the creatures lay motionless, their hulking forms sprawled across the arena floor.

He tapped the ground once using his right boot.

A massive blue Barrier Rune flared to life, spanning the entire arena with an otherworldly glow. It shimmered like a protective dome, sealing the space within a translucent hemispherical barrier. The rain bounced harmlessly off its surface and the crowd stared in stunned silence, their cheers forgotten as they gawked at the display of power.

Vastarael lowered his hand, the glow fading as he glanced upward. His face was still shadowed by the mask he wore. But then, he reached up and removed it.

The reaction was instantaneous.

The women in the royal box, particularly the king's daughters, gasped audibly. Their cheeks flushed as they laid eyes on him, their expressions shifting from surprise to desire.

The youngest daughter bit her lip, her hands gripping the edge of her seat as if to steady herself. The eldest looked away, her face crimson, but her thighs shifted uncomfortably under her gown, betraying her emotions. Even the queen, seated beside the king, found herself momentarily distracted, her composure faltering.

Vastarael's face was a masterpiece of divine craftsmanship. His features exuded a beauty so potent it felt almost unnatural.

He stepped forward, his boots splashing softly in the wet floor, and raised his voice. It rang out across the arena, amplified by a Sound Enhancement Rune.

"People of... this kingdom, whatever it's called," he began, his smile widening just enough to reveal a hint of sharpness. "Today marks the end of this barbaric spectacle. No longer will these slaves, who you call gladiators, be forced to fight for your amusement."

The crowd murmured, but many found themselves captivated despite their unease.

"You cheer for bloodshed," Vastarael continued, his gaze sweeping across the stands, "but do you understand the cost? Do you see the lives you've taken, the families you've destroyed? Or have you blinded yourselves to the truth? Not that I care but how sadistic are you people? I know I'm the same but at least I have my limits. You guys... are messed up."

The king, sitting stiffly in his throne, glared down at Vastarael, his face dark with anger.

"Who dares disrupt this event?" He thundered, his voice struggling to match the presence of the man below.

Vastarael tilted his head slightly, his expression turning playful.

"Who am I, you ask? I am merely a prince from another land. A wanderer, if you will. But today... today, I am your reckoning."

The women in the audience could hardly contain themselves, their emotions wavering between fear and infatuation. Vastarael's presence was intoxicating, his beauty and power weaving a spell that left them breathless.

He turned slightly, his eyes finding Chainless in the shadows near the cages. She stood silently, her chains coiled like serpents ready to strike. He nodded to her, a silent command passing between them.

With the barrier in place and the creatures slain, the time for freedom had begun. And Vastarael, with his devastating smile and unshakable resolve, would lead the charge.

"So let me ask you this. What are slaves to you?"

"Are they property?" He asked, pacing slowly, his boots splashing faintly in the rain-soaked ring. "Things to be bought, sold, used and discarded? Are they tools for your amusement? Mere objects whose lives are worth less than the coins you spend to watch them bleed?"

The crowd shifted uneasily. Some murmured among themselves, while others remained silent, mesmerized by his words.

"Do they have no dreams of their own? No families waiting for their return? No right to exist beyond the walls of this cage you call an arena?"

He stopped and looked up, his gaze piercing through the royal box where the king and his family sat.

"Do you not see the hypocrisy in your joy? You call yourselves noble and civilized. Yet you sit there, dressed in silk and gold, while those you call slaves die for your entertainment. What nobility lies in that?"

The eldest of the king's daughters, unable to control herself, leaned forward in her seat, her lips parted slightly. Her pulse quickened at the intensity in Vastarael's voice, at the raw charisma radiating from him. Even the youngest daughter, though bashful, could not look away, her face flushed as if caught in a fever dream.

Vastarael's lips curled into a devastating smile, the kind that stole breaths and silenced protests.

"I'll tell you what I see when I look at these people. I see strength. Resilience. Courage. I see individuals who've endured what none of you could bear for a single day. And you dare to call them lesser? You, who sit idle while others bleed for your pleasures? At least do that to your enemies, not people from your own kingdom!"

His words sent ripples through the crowd. The women, enthralled by his beauty and power, found themselves leaning forward unconsciously. Even the married women were not immune, their gazes lingering on him as their minds wandered to forbidden fantasies.

The men, on the other hand, burned with jealousy. But even as envy swirled within them, they couldn't deny his magnetism, his aura of command. Some nodded grudgingly, acknowledging his points, while others clenched their fists, helpless to challenge the overwhelming presence he exuded.

Vastarael took a deep breath, his expression softening slightly, though his eyes still burned with determination.

"I didn't come here to give you a lecture. I came here to put an end to this. To ensure that the chains binding these people are shattered forever."

He raised his arms, sapphire energy radiating from him, his presence growing even more divine.

"But let me tell you one thing before I do. Freedom," he said, his gaze sweeping across the arena, locking onto the faces of those in the cages, "is not given. It's taken. It's claimed by those who refuse to bow down, those who refuse to be broken. And today…"

His smile turned razor-sharp once more.

"Today, I will help them claim it."

The crowd erupted into a cacophony of mixed emotions. Cheers from those inspired, gasps from those shocked, and stunned silence from those unable to process the man standing before them.

The king stood abruptly, his face red with fury, but his daughters, lost in their desire, barely noticed. One of them whispered, almost inaudibly;

"He's perfect."

Vastarael, unfazed by the reactions around him, turned his attention back to the gladiators in their cages.

"To all of you who've endured, stand with me. Fight with me. And I promise you… today, the arena falls."

The rain began to pour harder as if the heavens themselves acknowledged his declaration. Vastarael stood tall, his sapphire shards hovering in the air around him.

And with that single speech, he gained a new title.

The Handsome Prince of Freedom.