The usher forwarded the saved image to his superior. The marking on the woman’s ear stood out clearly—unmistakable.
The manager’s hands trembled when he viewed the photograph. That really was Silas’s private symbol.
His fingers flew across the keyboard: "Escort her to the premium section imdiately. Show her maximum courtesy."
Sweat beaded on the manager’s forehead.
"Mr. Pendragon vanished ages ago—could he be monitoring us secretly? That theory made no sense. Why display the marking so boldly? This might be Mr. Pendragon’s woman. Regardless, we must handle her perfectly. One misstep could cost everything. Mr. Pendragon wields trendous influence. Who else would possess his private symbol?"
The usher responded frantically: "Copy that."
——
Elara’s POV
A thunderous blast echoed as Giselle’s tal prison rolled into view. I erged simultaneously. Giselle served as entertainnt for the gambling masses, while I controlled her destiny.
I didn’t want Giselle’s death. Dying would be rciful. I needed her broken, pleading for escape.
Only then could I honor everything done to the original soul.
Giselle spotted instantly, her face twisting in disbelief—I was being guided to the exclusive seating by a parade of fawning staff mbers.
I could see the disbelief on her face, as if she were wondering how I, an ordinary female she believed lacked any power, could manage to secure premium access when even Cassian couldn’t.
Horror and confusion overwheld Giselle’s features.
The audience gasped as I ascended. Every gaze fixed on , voices murmuring speculation about my identity. The manager imdiately released his SS-level spiritual force, compelling everyone to avert their eyes.
The manager’s fierce expression made it clear he would defend Mr. Pendragon’s woman with his existence, daring anyone to stare at .
Giselle’s expression crumbled.
Her crumbling expression suggested she realized she had made a terrible mistake, likely wondering where Cassian was and knowing I was beyond their reach.
The Arena operated independently from the Valerion Empire’s monarchy. It controlled an entire level and ranked as Glimraven Port’s most exclusive establishnt. Its leadership remained completely anonymous.
Nobody conducted business with them. Those premium seats had stayed vacant for years. Cassian once proposed fifty million credits but was still rejected.
Her eyes darted wildly, clearly unable to comprehend why I was seated in the vacant premium section.
Giselle’s thoughts scattered—until she noticed the A-grade serpent beast rushing toward her.
The crowd erupted with wagers. Giselle’s shrieks disappeared beneath the chaos.
I observed Giselle with icy detachnt. The peculiar pain within diminished slightly. I recognized it as the original girl’s lingering emotions. Thorne had murdered her.
I gripped my glass firmly.
I won’t let your death be aningless. Everyone who hard you will suffer—beginning with Giselle.
I’d tornt Giselle first. Predator and prey always made the most entertaining sport.
Below, the betting intensified dramatically.
No female had ever been cast into the coliseum previously, particularly not one with A-grade spiritual abilities. It was unprecedented. The audience wagered recklessly, barely concerned with winning or losing.
Then soone identified the caged girl as the Sterling family’s daughter. The crowd fell silent... before exploding into raucous laughter.
"Ms. Sterling is quite the character..."
"I heard she’s involved in questionable activities..."
The taunts reached Giselle’s ears crystal clear.
She looked utterly defeated, as though realizing Cassian had destroyed her entirely.
Giselle glared up at in the premium section, eyes burning with fury. She shrieked, "You orchestrated this! You’re that worthless Elara. I know it’s you!"
Nobody acknowledged her.
The furious serpent beast had already attacked.
A piercing scream sliced through the air. Giselle collapsed unconscious imdiately.
I smiled coldly and mockingly.
All appearance, no substance. Just a spoiled weakling.
What else should I expect from soone who only bullied the defenseless?
I settled into my seat. A staff mber promptly delivered coffee and refreshnts, then positioned himself respectfully nearby. If I had glanced up, I would have recognized Trevor Butler, the Arena’s head administrator with SS-grade spiritual power.
I was occupied sending a "present" to the Sterling household. News of Giselle in the coliseum spread rapidly, with images going viral. I contacted local galactic entertainnt networks. Ti to enliven everyone’s mundane feeds.
Surely not everything needs to focus on spiritual power incidents, right?
Doesn’t the original girl’s wicked mother treasure Giselle? She can continue treasuring her now.
I hoped they appreciated my gift. I invested 1 million credits in Pulsewave and promoted Giselle’s Arena footage and pictures directly to the trending page’s summit.
"This is entertaining," I said aloud. "Finally, sothing beyond the usual stories."
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