"Release them? Did they ever consider releasing these people?"
Ye Luo casually pointed toward the young girls and the hardened bloodstains in the gladiator arena!
Because of years of ceaseless battles, even the ground of the arena bore large blackened marks—traces left by the blood of innumerable lives lost here.
That blood, hardened over time, told a grim tale.
Time and time again, fresh blood had flowed in this arena, and who knows how many lives it had taken to leave behind such thick, black crusts.
Ye Luo's words left the young noblemen puzzled. In their eyes, the lives of these slaves were utterly worthless, their degradation into mere tools for entertainment was, to them, a privilege for the slaves. One of them instinctively muttered:
"You... You're doing this for these filthy slaves? Being of service to us is their honor..."
"Oh? Is that so?"
