Imit stood alone on the terrace on the top floor of the castle, with the circular gladiatorial arena below.

Following the Legion of Heaven, he abandoned everything in his hometown and came to this strange world alone.

In just a few years, he went from an unknown boy to a famous slave owner in more than a dozen surrounding city-states.

His eyes were gentle, and he eagerly looked at the gladiatorial empire under him. Imit looked at his beloved child.

This is his achievement, the achievement of his imit, and there is no doubt that the cause of all this is only a gift from a singer who tries to vent his resentment. From that day on, Imit prefixed his name with piety.

This has nothing to do with his true beliefs, but only an expression of attitude.

Before you know it, you've been living in the city called Cologne for five years. Five years, for a strong person with divinity, this is just a blink of an eye. But for the self-proclaimed pious Imit, Mr. Imit, who is actually known to others as the gold coin Imit, did not have many five years in his life.

Not so long ago, the beautiful maid found gray hair from his head.

"Time will not be forgiving, but my empire will continue to be brilliant!"

After a slight sip of wine, Imit, who had lost his enterprising spirit, was happiest every day when he stood on the terrace and looked down at the gladiatorial empire he had built.

Bang!

A sudden explosion erupted in the night that had fallen silent.

"Damn it, who is it!" the pious Imit was stunned for less than a second, and immediately leaned out half of his body from the terrace. A fierce roar on his face was fierce: "Guards, damned guards, do you all want to be branded as slaves!Who dares to destroy the empire that my pious Imit has built with his own hands!?"

The sound of a tyrannical roar echoed through the night, and the sound of clanging weapons against armor came and went. The guards stationed in the Colosseum and all over the castle stepped forward and galloped in the direction of the sound explosion!

Soon the second explosion sounded again!

"Damn, it's a dungeon?filthy slave rebellion trying to provoke the pious Imit!" Imit stood on the terrace, guarded by the personal knights who had rushed to hear the news. Vulture-like eyes, glowing with cruelty, stared at the source of the riot.

It was a pitch-black tunnel, with a stone staircase leading to an enclosed dungeon. The sound of the explosion came from the mouth of the dark tunnel!

"Catch the troublemaker! I'm going to skin him alive and hang him in the middle of the gladiatorial arena!" Imit's voice twisted and hideous, stirring the minds of the guards who kept rushing to it.

"Perhaps, from today onwards, the gold coin Imit will usher in a new nickname!Imit the Skinner?" several holy knights guarding him glanced at each other in unison, and they all couldn't help but feel a chill in their hearts.

The entire gladiatorial arena was in complete chaos! Compared to the guards on the ground, who were still gathered in an orderly manner, the dungeon was completely boiling at this moment.

Bahrain had never thought of breaking through the heavily defended arena with the strength of a first-class arcanist. Imprisoned in the dungeons, the elite gladiators who walk between life and death on a daily basis are his most powerful allies.

As soon as he blasted open the steel gates, Balin rushed to the nearest dungeon.

The hand of the mage who transformed into the hand of flames, the old technique was repeated, and the nearest steel prison door was slammed open with a fierce palm!

A burly gladiator, topless with a long scar on his face, was looking at the naked uninvited guest with a look of surprise.

"Mage?" the hoarse voice protruded a syllable, with disbelief and doubt.

"You're free, butcher!" Barin grinned, and a molten fireball shot out of his hand, instantly dissolving the shackles that bound him.

I was slightly stunned for a moment, and my mind was extremely thinking about gains and losses. Finally, the butcher smiled cruelly: "Hehe, hey, free!"

By this time, there was already a roar in his ears from the slaves in the other cells. Pairs of shackled hands slammed against the walls, and the sound of metal shackles grinding against each other resounded throughout the dungeon.

Without hesitation, Balin ran to the next cell! He didn't have much time, he had to release enough gladiators before the first wave of guards.

Except for him and the butcher, who have the qualifications of a single room, the other gladiators are mixed in several people.

Balin raced towards the remaining cells, the Hand of Fire striking at each other. It has to be said that Imit is not an idiot.

Every cell door in the dungeon was made of thick steel, and even then he shackled each slave with weights. In the face of gladiators who have been blocked from their extraordinary powers, such a defense is enough to be called foolproof.

The only thing he didn't imagine was that someone could break through the blockade of the shackles and regain his extraordinary power.

It's not that he's negligent, it's just that he's done as much as he can. Confinement shackles have proven their reliability over the years!

Bahrain is just an unexpected product of this world community that does not belong in the first place!

"You're free!" said Balin, who continued to untie the slaves' shackles, repeating the cry of freedom.

There was a strict hierarchy, and the closer you got to the cells in Bahrain, the more elite the slave gladiators were held inside.

No matter why these people were captured in the first place, but after many life-and-death battles, the cowardly has already fallen in a pool of blood. Even a coward like Bahrain, who once tried to survive in vain, has now completed his self-transformation, not to mention the other gladiators who are on the verge of life and death every time?

The Cologne City Gladiatorial Arena has been fought again and again, and the elite has now become Bahrain's most powerful ally!

When hope is lost, people may become numb. But when hope comes, the instinct for freedom burns again.

But it doesn't matter. Each of the elite gladiators here has experienced many gladiatorial battles with their bare hands against heavily armed men.

After releasing more than thirty elite gladiators in a row, Bahrain finally stopped.

He hasn't built his own Arcane Tower yet. Without the Arcane Tower's mana furnace to provide him with a steady stream of power, relying on the simple heart of molten fire to absorb and transform is too inefficient.

He must leave enough mana for the breakout later. It is enough to release these most elite gladiators, and then spending precious mana to release those inferior gladiators will not outweigh the losses.

At the exit of the dungeon, the two sides were already fighting together! The Holy Knight with divine power was far more powerful than the ordinary warrior. But among these gladiators who have survived the brutal fights again and again, who is not a strong man with extraordinary power?

Ordinary warriors can't survive now! The battlefield, which was already in a crushing situation, collapsed even more after the arrival of Bahrain.

A large flaming hand passed over the gladiators and descended on the Holy Knight's head.