The Demon King didn't move immediately. Instead, he gestured toward the arena's far edge where a structure materialized—something that hadn't been there moments before.

A throne.

Not decorative. Not symbolic. This was the throne. The seat of absolute authority in the Underworld. Built from compressed bones of every demon who'd challenged his rule and failed. Wreathed in flames that had burned since the realm's founding. Radiating power that made even the arena's earlier trials seem like ...